B
brian boru
Valued member
I M greedy, I guess. Eighteen months ago I had a transplant at the Farjo Clinic in Manchester and the result was fantastic. What was once a head that resembled a bare car park sprinkled with a few dying leaves was transformed. Not into a thick, lush jungle of hair, I have to say but an area with a lovely growing, garden.
And each morning since I ve looked at my new hair with pride and appreciation.
However, the garden had a little patch - at the crown - that remained thin. Even the gifted Dr F couldn t spread the 3250 FUs he d relocated onto scalp previously to the point complete forestation was achieved. And so I spoke to Mick, the genial clinic manager and who had guided me through the process last time.
We can sort it out, he said, reassuringly.
And so I travelled to Manchester for a second procedure, and once again the hair garden team were slick, efficient and hugely welcoming. The drinks, the Granola bars, chicken sandwich and comforting smiles all arrived right on cue and I took great delight in learning that 2,100 lovely little FUs had been planted in the crown and in a V shape , towards the front.
Come Christmas the garden will be patchless.
Was the process any different this time? Not at all. Again, the back of my head was a little tender for a few days but the spray antiseptic provided acts like balm. It s wonderful.
I was back at work three days after the procedure and this time around however not a single person had a clue what had been going on - and in - my head. And why would they? My head wasn t shaved, and there was no sigh at all of any scalp irritation. And after about ten days the stitches dissolved, like tiny particles of snow exposed to sunlight.
But there is one feature of this transplant that doesn t match up with the previous. Not all of the implanted hairs have fallen out, as is expected, only to regrow four months later. Every morning when I wake up I touch my scalp and feel the little spiky hairs - and it s a delight.
Am I completely glad to have undergone a second procedure? Some may feel it s gilding the lily, perhaps all a little too self-indulgent - or perhaps even tempting fate. Who knows? All I know is that since the original hair transplant there hasn t been a day goes past when I haven t looked in the mirror and watched my face register a double smile of appreciation and delight.
I m back to the wonderful days of disturbed, sometimes mad, morning hair, when the top of my head looks messier than a teenager s bedroom. Now I grin as I decide how I m going to part my hair each day, (side or middle) or just leave it floppy and let nature and the wind determine the rest.
However I reckoned that if you can go for something close to hair perfection, then why not. I still won t have the David Cassidy hair I had when I was eighteen, but I have to say I m headed, no pun intended, entirely in that direction.
I ll let you know how it all thickens out at the end of the year.
And each morning since I ve looked at my new hair with pride and appreciation.
However, the garden had a little patch - at the crown - that remained thin. Even the gifted Dr F couldn t spread the 3250 FUs he d relocated onto scalp previously to the point complete forestation was achieved. And so I spoke to Mick, the genial clinic manager and who had guided me through the process last time.
We can sort it out, he said, reassuringly.
And so I travelled to Manchester for a second procedure, and once again the hair garden team were slick, efficient and hugely welcoming. The drinks, the Granola bars, chicken sandwich and comforting smiles all arrived right on cue and I took great delight in learning that 2,100 lovely little FUs had been planted in the crown and in a V shape , towards the front.
Come Christmas the garden will be patchless.
Was the process any different this time? Not at all. Again, the back of my head was a little tender for a few days but the spray antiseptic provided acts like balm. It s wonderful.
I was back at work three days after the procedure and this time around however not a single person had a clue what had been going on - and in - my head. And why would they? My head wasn t shaved, and there was no sigh at all of any scalp irritation. And after about ten days the stitches dissolved, like tiny particles of snow exposed to sunlight.
But there is one feature of this transplant that doesn t match up with the previous. Not all of the implanted hairs have fallen out, as is expected, only to regrow four months later. Every morning when I wake up I touch my scalp and feel the little spiky hairs - and it s a delight.
Am I completely glad to have undergone a second procedure? Some may feel it s gilding the lily, perhaps all a little too self-indulgent - or perhaps even tempting fate. Who knows? All I know is that since the original hair transplant there hasn t been a day goes past when I haven t looked in the mirror and watched my face register a double smile of appreciation and delight.
I m back to the wonderful days of disturbed, sometimes mad, morning hair, when the top of my head looks messier than a teenager s bedroom. Now I grin as I decide how I m going to part my hair each day, (side or middle) or just leave it floppy and let nature and the wind determine the rest.
However I reckoned that if you can go for something close to hair perfection, then why not. I still won t have the David Cassidy hair I had when I was eighteen, but I have to say I m headed, no pun intended, entirely in that direction.
I ll let you know how it all thickens out at the end of the year.