“Why are you patting your head?” It’s itchy.
Mum looked confused. I was watching TV, and every few seconds I would pat my head with the base of my palm. On the top, on the sides. I looked like a mad woman, but I didn’t want to scratch it.
I’d been told that a sensitive scalp was normal, and it would feel like each follicle would be crying for attention; or that my hair would feel like it had been pulled back tightly. It was driving me crazy. Every now and again I would scratch a part slightly, but quickly look to see if anything had come out.
That was the tail end of Christmas week. Five days ago I started shedding.