When I was a kid, there was a book that sat on the family bookshelf titled Boldness Be My Friend. It recounts the World War II experiences of its author Richard Pape. I never read it, but it sticks in my mind, because my brother and I made fun of the title. We had an uncle who was bald, and we renamed the book, Baldness Be My Friend.
My uncle had gone bald at a very young age, in his early 20s. And despite the jokes my brother and I made, that fact began to worry me when I reached that age. I had a good head of hair in my early 20s, but it was fine and blond, making it seem thin.
This fed into an anxiety about going bald that wasn’t helped by a common theory that baldness was passed on through the mother’s side of the family. My bald uncle was my mother’s brother.
Apparently anxiety is not helpful. Whether or not anxiety played a part, I did eventually go bald around age 40.
Would treatment have stopped me going bald?
I did briefly consider getting treatment to try to slow the decline. By that stage, cricketers like Greg Matthews and Graham Gooch had gone down the ‘Advanced Hair, yeah yeah!’ path. But anyone who had that treatment seemed to be the subject of as much ridicule as those who’d gone bald. So was there any point?
For whatever reason, going bald did affect my psyche, as it does for many men. For me a combination of recognising I was no longer young, and thinking I might become less attractive to women played a role in my concerns. I was married with children at the time, so the latter shouldn’t have been a factor. But I suppose ego and insecurities don’t necessarily disappear with marriage.
Having been bald for nigh on 20 years now, I still wish I had my hair back. However, I’m glad I never went down the medical path of attempted hair restoration. A story published in The Economist earlier this year has served only to reaffirm that gladness.
The story is of the author’s friend, Ben, who began to lose his hair in his 20s. This was too young in Ben’s mind. As I and many others have, Ben aligned loss of hair with loss of attractiveness and youth. He tried minoxidil (also known by the brand name Rogaine), and over-the-counter scalp treatment with no success.
Finasteride
Then Ben heard about another treatment, a drug called finasteride. Also known as Propecia and other brand names, it is generally considered the most effective treatment for male-pattern baldness.
Finasteride does, however, come with potential side-effects. Then again, almost every drug does. Finasteride is a hormone blocker. Specifically it blocks the male hormone that causes ‘hair follicle miniaturisation’, which makes you go bald.
My obviously still fragile male ego baulks at the thought of this. “I don’t want to become less of a man”, I say to myself silently. In fact, I’ve taken this a step further with anyone who ribs me about my lack of head hair. “I’ve got better things to do with hormones than grow hair on my head,” I respond, adopting a macho pose.
Ben had concerns, too. He knew finasteride came with a risk of depression and sexual side-effects. Some men had even claimed the side-effects persisted after they stopped taking it.
In light of those concerns, Ben initially said no to finasteride, but as the hair loss continued, changed his mind.
What followed can only be described as a nightmare. Ben took finasteride for two months with little change to his hair. Despite being told finasteride could take up to six months to take effect, he changed his mind. Reassured by his girlfriend that she loved him, not his hair, Ben stopped taking finasteride.
The bald facts
A few days later, though, Ben had what he thought was a panic attack. Then came another, and another. Soon after, physical changes started occurring. He was losing weight, and his muscles were losing definition.
From there it only got worse. Ben stopped getting morning erections, then erections at any time of the day or night. His sex drive withered. Then he discovered that a calcified plaque began to form on the underside of his penis.
Turning to online forums, Ben found his experience wasn’t unique. Others had similar stories after they stopped taking finasteride. They called the experience “the crash”.
Ben’s nightmare did not end there. His testosterone levels dropped, and he had trouble finding medical agreement on a possible solution. Eventually he agreed to take a course of a drug called clomid, taken by injection.
To cut a long and traumatic story short, Ben eventually recovered his health. He never recovered his hair but he is now more than happy with how he looks.
Was finasteride the cause of Ben’s nightmare? Certainly not, according to Merck, the company that developed it. There have been lawsuits, but these were settled out of court. To make a definitive link between Ben’s symptoms and finasteride is very difficult.
For me, even just reading about Ben’s experience has been enough to make it a cautionary tale. Do I wish I wasn’t bald? Absolutely, but unless a new proven cure with no side-effects comes along, I won’t do anything about it. Whenever it gets me down, I’ll just think back to Richard Pape’s book and distort the title: Baldness Be My Friend.
Have you gone bald? Has it had a negative psychological effect on you? Let us know via the comments section below.
Also read: The haircuts of our youth
Disclaimer: This article contains general information about health issues and is not advice. For health advice, consult your medical practitioner.
