Every Single Thing That Happened During My Hair Transplant
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Picture this: You’re 5,672 miles away from home, nine hours ahead of all your loved ones. While they’re asleep, you’re lying face down on an operating table, about to undergo the biggest procedure of your life in a country you’ve never been to before. Scared and unsure of the outcome, you maintain composure and focus on the end goal: a full head of hair. Let me explain.
If you’re familiar with the cosmetic industry, you've likely seen the buzz around hair transplants on TikTok, especially those in Turkey. But what if I told you my hair journey led me to the Netherlands instead?
For those of you who are new to the conversation of hair transplants: welcome! The water is warm and the most important SparkNote you need is this: A hair transplant is a procedure that moves hair follicles from one part of the body to the other, helping to achieve fuller-looking hair where needed. It sounds straightforward, but it's a significant decision involving financial investment, emotional acceptance, upkeep, and finding trustworthy doctors (more on all that in a minute).
Because of that first reason—the financial investment—many people find themselves traveling to Turkey to undergo hair transplants, where the procedure, on average, costs $10,000 less than in the United States. But I decided against that pretty quickly. Although Turkey is a secular country, I feared the thought of keeping a lower profile as a gay man in a place where I might not be accepted. To paint the picture for you: As recently as 2015, a Pride march in Istanbul was blocked by the city, positioned as a threat to Turkish family values. I have gay friends who ventured to Turkey for their procedures, and while their experiences seemed safe, I didn’t want to risk it—so I opted for Haarkliniek De Kroon in the Netherlands. Before we get into why, I’ll take you through my journey one step at a time.
My Personal Experience With Hair Loss
My hair started thinning in my early twenties, but I learned about the relationship between hair and identity long before then. As a ‘90s kid, gender norms paved the way on how society categorized me into heteronormative boxes. Even with liberal parents who understood I was gay from a young age, there was a clear line between the characteristics of a boy and a girl, with no room for anything in between. Boys had short hair and were expected to play sports, use toy trucks, and be tough; girls had long hair and were known for painting their nails, playing with dolls, and being sensitive. Unfortunately, my parents fell victim to society’s demands of gender exclusivity; northeast Los Angeles, where my parents are also from, wasn’t as progressive as it is now. Allowing your child to be any different could attract negative attention and slurs, so I’d like to think that my short hair was one of the ways my parents protected me in my adolescence.
In high school, I took rebellious control of my appearance, letting my hair grow out and straightening it as my form of expression. My hair was an important part of my identity at the time. Whether it was straight, naturally wavy, clean, or dirty, I was the best version of myself when I had a full head of hair. Working in the beauty industry as a young adult gave me access to hair products and tools to continue styling my hair as I wanted. My philosophy at the time mirrored Mark Twain’s take on whiskey: Too much of anything is bad, but too many good hair products are barely enough.
Despite that, genetics hit me like a ton of bricks in my twenties. My family members have always teased me by comparing me to my dad—turns out, I also inherited his thinning crown area.. “It's not completely surprising if somebody comes in with some initial hair loss in their late teens, early 20s, especially if it runs pretty deep in the family,” says Dhaval Bhanusali, MD, a board-certified dermatologist in New York City. I can’t recall my dad ever having a full head of hair except for what I’ve seen in pictures; I always assumed it was his choice to buzz his hair off a couple times a week. But in fact, my dad noticed his hair loss as early as high school.
The culprit for hair loss in men is often increased levels of dihydrotestosterone (DHT), a form of testosterone that plays a role in the sexual development of males, says Robert Finney, MD, a board-certified dermatologist based in New York City. High levels of DHT can damage hair follicles and result in androgenetic alopecia, commonly known as male pattern baldness, he says. While higher-than-normal levels of DHT can be genetic, Dr. Bhanusali adds that it can also be caused by a number of external reasons including lifestyle factors such as stress and diet.
The signs of my early hair loss were there: clumps of hair falling out on my wash days or whenever I finger-combed throughout the day. When I would take backward selfies in front of my mirror, I could see light reflecting off my scalp in the crown area where my hair was thinnest. More recently, I’d noticed my thinning making its way to my forehead as well, becoming particularly noticeable after I showered, exposing my scalp.
I knew I could follow in my dad's footsteps, shaving my head regularly to hide the thinner patches. But at 27, I was ready to throw in the towel without exploring other options that might let me keep the hair I'd always seen as part of my identity. On Instagram, ads for topical and oral treatments from brands like Hims and Keeps flooded my feed; eventually, I bought into the latter. My Keeps questionnaire results directed me to purchase their 5% Minoxidil Topical Solution. After receiving the three-month treatment, my impatient tendencies kicked in, and I realized I wasn’t disciplined enough to take on this new responsibility, even during COVID-19 stay-at-home orders.
Dr. Finney says these types of at-home medical services can be beneficial for people who don’t have the means to see a reputable dermatologist—but they lack counsel and follow-up, which is critical in the long-term treatment of hair loss. “When somebody comes in and sees me for an initial hair loss consultation, I want to set the stage,” he says. “Hair loss is progressive, and when we're coming up with a treatment routine, you are marrying this treatment, and you use it as long as you want it to work.”
In a literal sense, it was easy for me to ignore my hair loss because it was on my crown area, leaving it in the back of my mind (and head) until it worsened and became noticeable to me. Accepting that my hair was at a decline was the biggest obstacle I faced before taking the first step towards a transplant. By the time I was certain I wanted the procedure, nearly all the hair on my crown area was gone. Despite the risks involved in such a big—and slightly impulsive—decision, I was willing to take the leap if it meant having a fuller head of hair.
What You Need to Know About Hair Transplants
I was indirectly introduced to hair transplants in 2020 via the influencer Zane Hijazi who posted a video on YouTube titled “My Hair Transplant Surgery Changed My Life.” He shared his experience undergoing a follicular unit transplantation (FUT) or the “strip method hair transplant,” a hair transplant procedure that removes a strip of hair-covered skin from the back of the scalp and transplants it to thinning or balding areas. This was my first glimpse into the world of hair transplants during a time where the conversation wasn’t particularly common on social media, especially amongst young men. Dr. Bhanusali echoes this sentiment, saying, “I actually think social media is probably the best advocate for education. More people should talk about hair loss on social media.”
Making the decision to get a hair transplant of my own wasn’t easy, and without the help and support from friends who have undergone hair transplants themselves, I would have been lost in the process. There was a point when I thought of transplants as only being for people with accessibility to notable doctors, fancy treatments… and, of course, the funds. Episodes of Botched painted a financially devastating picture for me, leaving me discouraged every time I thought about it.
And I had reason to be: hair transplants can be expensive, sometimes costing north of $20,000 or more in the United States, as previously reported by Allure. (That number is, of course, contingent on the severity of one's hair loss.) That’s where medical tourism comes in—and for hair transplants, Turkey is like Disney World. Many clinics there offer all-inclusive packages that include the procedure (anesthesia, graft harvesting, implanting, etc.), hotels, flights, and more for price in the low to mid four figures; for instance, one such clinic, Smile Hair Clinic, offers all of this for around $3,500. “In Turkey, they have the process pretty streamlined at this point,” says Dr. Bhanusali. “My thing is this: I'm not against people going to Turkey. It's just that you have to know what you're getting yourself into. It's like Russian roulette, and we've seen incredible results from some of the places there. To that point, we've also seen equally terrifying results.”
Before I made my decision, I had to make sure I was investing in a clinic with a good reputation, excellent doctors and results to show for it. When speaking to Dr. Finney about my vetting process, I learned there was more to look for than just before-and-afters pictures and customer reviews, and that assessing a doctor’s background for legitimacy is an important piece of homework, too. “In dermatology, our training is focused on becoming experts of the hair, skin and nails. That being said, many hair transplant surgeons come from varying backgrounds,” he says.
The first thing you should confirm is if your doctor did a fellowship for hair transplantation, Dr. Finney explains. “Given the disparity in the background of many surgeons, training can vary. I always look at the prior history and what type of doctor they were originally,” he says. “Someone who trained as an ER doc and took a weekend course prior to labeling themself as a hair transplant surgeon would be a red flag for me. The procedure most closely aligns with dermatologists, as well as plastic and facial plastic surgeons.”
As an added precaution, Dr. Finney notes that the ISHRS (International Society of Hair Restoration Surgery) is a reputable society for hair surgeons to belong to, so if you’re feeling conflicted when shopping around, it’s a great resource to confirm a doctor's legitimacy.
I was fortunate enough to know of success stories from two proudly gay friends who had visited the Breda-based Haarkliniek De Kroon in the Netherlands. Seeing their results firsthand in addition to seeing the clinic’s before-and-afters on social media encouraged me to reach out and book a virtual consultation—and seeing that my doctor was a member of ISHRS sealed the deal.
The Consultation
With the help of Google Translate, I signed up for a consultation on Haarkliniek De Kroon’s website in March of this year. Welcoming me with open arms was their very first question: “Are you suffering from (beginning) baldness?”
A few days later, a consultant emailed me directly to schedule a virtual consultation for their next available opening. Even at 6 a.m. my time, I was elated to get on the phone and talk to her about my goal to fill my crown and the top of my head with healthy follicles. She asked me about my main areas of concern, when I first noticed my hair loss, and whether I intended to travel to the Netherlands for the procedure if I decided to move forward. Even though it was an early start to my day, I felt quite comfortable speaking with a complete stranger about my hair loss and left the conversation feeling optimistic.
The next step was to share pictures of my hair with my doctor via Whatsapp. After further assessment, I was discouraged to learn that my doctor was only willing to target my crown area in a single session versus the entire top of my head. My doctor expressed that since there was almost no hair left on my crown area, it should take priority, and there could be a possibility for a second transplant in the future. I was disappointed, to say the least, that I couldn’t treat all my hair loss in one go, but I didn’t want to give up just because it wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.
The doctor said they’d need 2,500 grafts to create a nice density on my crown area, where I hardly had hair, and they had doubts of harvesting that many from my donor area (the back of my head leading up to my ears). Dr. Finney confirms that many factors determine how many grafts are harvested in a single transplant, with the most important factors being someone's donor area and the size of the treatment area. “Some [donor areas] have higher density, thus, you can take a lot, while some do not and that will limit the number,” he says. “The second most important determining factor is how big of an area you need to transplant.”
It’s important to mention that one graft doesn’t always represent one follicle; in fact, each follicle can carry over anywhere from one to four hairs in a single extraction. “Sometimes our hair grows in singular hairs, doubles, triples, and quadruples. If you have a quadruple hair follicle, you don't want to put that in the hairline because it would look a little funny,” says Dr. Finney. “So, occasionally doctors will actually split follicles.”
Despite these obstacles, they assured me they would do their best to ensure that I was satisfied with the result and sent me the initial paperwork needed to set a date for my procedure. I was quoted a flat rate of $5,354 for the procedure and paid a 10% down payment to lock in the big day. Unfortunately, Haarkliniek De Kroon doesn’t offer the all-inclusive packages clinics Turkey are known for, so I booked my travel to the Netherlands on my own. It cost me an additional $1,200, but that was totally fine with me—I’ve always wanted to see the canals!
My Journey to the Netherlands
I decided to turn my procedure into a European vacation, touching down in London a week before the big day to give myself time to embrace a new city and experiences. I assumed I would be instructed to rest as much as I could for the majority of the recovery period while in the Netherlands, so I decided to head to Amsterdam a couple of days before my procedure so I had enough time to admire the canals, experience nightlife on bikes, and mingle with friends while enjoying a sparkling water on the Reguliersdwarsstraat.
In my conversations with the specialists at Haarkliniek De Kroon leading up to the big day, I was given a list of instructions to follow before my procedure. I needed to grow my hair to at least 1 cm or longer and ensure I had enough paracetamol (the European name for acetaminophen aka Tylenol) at home for the recovery period. On the treatment day, they recommended wearing comfortable clothing, like a jacket or button-up, that wouldn't need to be pulled over my head. They also told me to have a good breakfast before the treatment—though you’ll find out that I failed this one—and arrange transportation to and from the clinic. Additionally, I was to avoid using drugs and drinking alcohol one week before the treatment—an easy one for me since I'm coming up on my fourth year of sobriety! I also needed to avoid garlic and certain vitamins, especially vitamin E and biotin (B8), as they can prolong bleeding.
The Day of My Procedure
This won’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, but I accidentally set my alarm for 5:30 p.m., instead of 5:30 a.m., for my procedure that morning. Luckily, I woke up naturally, showered and fled out the door to head to the small town of Breda in the North Brabant of the Netherlands. I didn’t get to have that recommended hearty breakfast but I did grab some snacks on the way and made it to my procedure on time.
An hour and a half long Uber drive later, I arrived at Haarkliniek De Kroon. Upon entry, I was greeted by my doctor and had a sit-down to discuss what the day would entail. He didn’t say how long the procedure would take, which is fine with me because I dread counting time. Instead, he talked about the main portions of the procedure—the extractions and implantation—and reassured me that I’d be on local anesthesia and wouldn’t feel a thing.
Step 1: The Buzzcut
My doctor sat me down to take my “before” pictures before buzzing off all my hair to further inspect my donor area. Watching each strand of hair make its way to the floor was emotional for me. It took me back to days where I couldn’t make decisions on my own, express who I was the way I wanted to, or feel comfortable in my own skin (or with my own hair). I kept my composure in an attempt to not get emotional in front of my doctor as I allowed him to inspect the back of my head like I was a science experiment. Upon final examination, my donor area was marked and it was time to go under the lamps.
My doctor walked me into a bleak operating room where I was greeted by two hair technicians. I sat on the surgical chair while I tried to focus on the music playing in the background and make small talk with the hair techs. I did this to avoid catching a glimpse at my doctor’s surgical instruments because the thought of tools plucking me like a peacock was not pleasant. Understandably so, the operating room was very cold and the only color the room had was coming from the TV that played top 40s. My doctor told me I could watch Netflix if I wanted to, but I was too nervous to think about a series to binge while being operated on. I decided I’d get lost in the music and try to maintain my composure on my own first. Eventually, it worked.
Step 2: The Numbing
I've always had a high pain tolerance—by junior year of high school, I already had six cartilage piercings. So when my doctor announced that the numbing portion of the procedure was about to begin, I didn't brace myself as much as I should have. I felt each and every one of the injections on the back of my head. I wept like a baby, loud enough for the entire clinic to hear me. Thankfully, the anesthesia kicked in quickly, but not fast enough to erase the memory of each injection.
Local anesthesia turned out to be all I needed in order for them to begin extracting my follicles, which was great because the thought of having to go under for a cosmetic surgery was scary (and I wasn’t offered anything else). Dr. Finney says that local anesthesia is the most common when performing a hair transplant, however, launching gas (nitrous oxide) or benzodiazepines are also usually available if you need it. “Local anesthesia is by far the most common. You could anesthetize someone [with general anesthesia], but there are risks associated,” he says. “We provide nitrous oxide to our patients, as well as local anesthesia,” adds Dr. Bhanusali. “While there may be some slight discomfort in the first few minutes, the rest of the time is relatively pleasant.”
Step 3: Extracting My Hair Follicles
The local anesthesia kicked in within seconds and it was time to begin extracting follicles from my donor area—or as a doctor called it, “follicular unit extraction.” “A follicular unit extraction (FUE) refers to harvesting individual grafts via punch excisions on the back of the scalp and planting them on the areas where more hair is needed,” says Dr. Bhanusali. “This is in contrast to a follicular unit transplantation (FUT), where a strip [of hair] is surgically removed, and hairs are then implanted after closure of the site.”
Like all cosmetic procedures, there are pros and cons of FUE and FUT. Scarring is one factor to consider when thinking about getting a hair transplant, says Dr. Finney, adding that FUE is a preferred method for minimal scarring. “[FUE] scarring is microscopic and would be very difficult to see even if you shave your head in the future, whereas [FUT] creates a line scar that will be visible if you ever cut the back really short,” he says. FUT is often a preferred method for patients with longer hair because it doesn’t require them to shave their head for the procedure either. “The upside is that you can leave your hair long on the day of [an FUT] transplant, thus, you can hide the fact you got a transplant from people,” says Dr. Finney.
The FUE process took place over several hours, and during this time, I wasn’t in pain, but I was intrigued by the micro-punching that resonated in my eardrums as each hair follicle was being pulled out. I couldn’t do much while lying on my stomach for the majority of this portion, so I tried to put my focus into my breathing as much as I could. However, I’m claustrophobic and my head was too big for the prone pillow (which has an opening for the nose and mouth), so it felt a bit like I was being smothered. I took several breaks throughout this step just to catch my breath.
Thankfully I was able to lie on my sides as the hair technicians started extracting follicles from the sides of my head, making the final home stretch pleasant. I even caught glimpses of my doctor inspecting my follicles as I was lying on my right side. Dr. Finney emphasizes the importance of analyzing each follicle to ensure they are not transected or crushed during removal, which is crucial for implanting viable grafts. “If a doctor transects a follicle and cuts off the base, leaving less than half of it, it doesn't have the necessary cells to actually regrow,” says Dr. Finney.
Before I knew it, this portion was over and I had a couple of minutes to take some silly content of my doctor inspecting my grafts. While sifting through a salad-dressing-size cup of bloody hairs, my doctor confirmed he examined about 800 grafts at that moment. He still had more to inspect, and in the end, they would end up harvesting 1,600 grafts for my crown area.
Only getting 1,600 grafts was disappointing, considering my initial consultation set the stage for me to transplant 2,500 for a nice density. But my doctor explained he didn’t want to over-harvest my donor area at the risk of causing unwanted bald spots.
My doctor placed bandages on my head and covered it with a medical cap before I was escorted to a private room for lunch, something I was especially excited for after sleeping through my breakfast opportunity. I ate every last bit of my chicken sandwich and enjoyed the assorted juices my clinic had for me, too.
Step 4: Incisions and Implants
A knock came at my door to signal that lunch time was over and the next part of my procedure—incisions and implants in the area where I wanted new growth—awaited. In this moment, I forced myself to believe that the most painful part of this experience was behind me. One of the hair technicians even said that most patients say the numbing and extraction are their least favorite parts, which I believed, too, as I headed back into the procedure room.
Once I was back in the chair, my doctor conducted yet another round of anesthetic injections before making incisions on my crown area. While the pain of needles lingered for some time, this portion was easier for me as my upper body was at a 45 degree angle. While this position was comfortable for watching TikToks and Gossip Girl, staying still for a long period of time in any position eventually becomes uncomfortable. My doctor made it a point to tell me he counts each incision one by one and could not be distracted. I willingly obliged as he counted every incision and called in the technicians to begin implanting my grafts.The local anesthesia made it so I didn’t feel a thing, but I did hear each insertion: They sounded like thumbtacks going onto drywall.
Every hour on the hour I asked them how much longer we had to go. Ultimately, this part of the process took a little over four hours. It was just my luck that my doctor had to make additional incisions as some of them had closed in the hours between procedures, delaying the process even further.
Step 5: My Post-Treatment PRP
After too many head injections and incisions to count that day, the final portion of my procedure, a platelet-rich plasma (PRP) treatment, was relatively simple. Once my procedure was over, my doctor proceeded to draw my blood in order to begin this last round of injections. “PRP therapy is beneficial in promoting faster hair density, minimizing the loss of transplanted hair, accelerating skin healing by reducing inflammation, and activating dormant follicles in patients undergoing hair transplants, specifically FUE,” says Sheila Farhang, MD, a board certified-dermatologist in Beverly Hills. “Although every hair transplant surgeon’s protocol may differ, it is generally recommended to continue with a few sessions of monthly PRP after the procedure and possibly maintenance every quarter to maintain healthy hair regrowth.”
It’s pretty common for hair transplant patients to receive a series of PRP treatments immediately after their procedure. “PRP injections are typically administered immediately after the hair transplant procedure or within the first few days,” Dr. Farhang says. “This timing helps maximize the benefits by promoting healing and supporting the newly transplanted hair follicles.” My treatment plan at Haarkliniek De Kroon included this initial PRP session in the price.
Finally, my procedure was complete and my doctor and hair technicians prepared an after-care package for me consisting of gauze pads, pads to go over pillows and for the ride home, a hypoallergenic shampoo, a hot and cold pack, and a 0.9% sodium chloride spray bottle to keep my head moist over the next few days. After nine hours, I was in a car and headed back to Amsterdam to rest and enjoy the rest of my time in the Netherlands.
The Recovery Period
I decided to stay in town for an extra week after seeking advice from my doctor about the recovery time. Although my clinic assured me that flying back to Los Angeles two days after my procedure wouldn’t be an issue, they flagged that I could run the risk of losing grafts and getting an infection along the way. Originally, I had planned on having an in-person follow-up, but I opted for a virtual check-up instead, which my clinic said would suffice as long as they could clearly see that my grafts were healing. This saved me from having to pay another $400 to get from Amsterdam to the suburb of Breda like I had on the day of my procedure—something to keep in mind if you consider Haarkliniek De Kroon.
The clinic’s aftercare instructions packet outlined a laundry list of restrictions I had to follow for optimal recovery, which included avoiding the sun, forgoing workouts, and avoiding harsh chemicals like hair dyes and chlorine in order to protect my hair grafts. The clinic stated that wounds typically heal within seven to 10 days, and it was important to avoid hats for the first week.
The best way I can describe how my head felt the first three days post-op is simply… weird. Imagine trying to make a fist while your hand is taped to a wall. Sure, you can feel your bones and nerves straining to break free, and you probably could do it with enough force, but you’re afraid of breaking the tape so you do nothing and keep your hand where it is, as it is. That was how my transplanted area felt when I yawned, lifted my eyebrows, bent over… the list goes on.
Grooming writer for GQ and founder of the forthcoming grooming platform Blue Print, Adam Hurly, agreed with my assessment. “It's a very weird experience, but to be honest, I kind of think of it fondly,” he says. (He got a transplant in Turkey a few years back.)
My head became less tender each day, and on the fourth day post-op, I was finally able to wash my donor area with the hypoallergenic shampoo I was given, gently patting the foam it created onto my transplanted area. It was refreshing to clean myself up as much as I could. I also had my follow-up on this day, during which my doctor assured me that my grafts were healing nicely and said to gently massage away the remaining dried blood during my next shampoo.
Over the next couple of days, my donor and crown areas were itchier than ever. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do to combat this. (I tried fanning my head, which provided very little relief.) This was a sign that my grafts were healing, and it was important for me to remain calm to avoid scratching my head and causing an infection. I spent my days distracting myself as much as I could by reading, watching TV, and getting plenty of rest.
It’s worth mentioning that I wasn’t incapacitated throughout my trip like I thought I’d be. While I was scared to go outside during the day, I knew getting outside would raise my spirits. I made it out quite a bit during my time in Amsterdam, meeting with friends for meals and taking walks for some fresh air and coffee. Per my doctor’s aftercare instructions, I did everything I could to avoid the sun, and brought an umbrella everywhere I went.
By the time I returned to Los Angeles, about eight days post-op and post-Microsoft IT outages that left me stranded at London Gatwick Airport for nearly 12 hours, I could finally massage my entire head with a hypoallergenic shampoo without fear of damaging my hair grafts. By this point, my wound scabs were falling off in bulk, which unveiled hair covering my entire crown area for the first time in years. Still very itchy, it was fun to get a sneak peek of what my hair would look like post-shock loss.
It Doesn’t Stop Here
What’s shock loss, you might be wondering? I was, too. It wasn’t until speaking to Dr. Bhanusali that I learned that “shock loss” is the temporary shedding of the transplant or donor area, which is triggered by the body’s response to the stress of the surgery, he told me. Some people experience this four to six weeks post-procedure, while some people notice it more like two to three months later. At about two and a half weeks post-procedure, my shock loss was starting. Dr. Bhanusali assured me it’s just a part of the process. “The [final] results are not dependent on how much shock loss you have. Some people have it, some people don't,” he says. “I don't stress too much about it. I just let my patients know it probably will happen. And if it does, it’s nothing to worry about.”
Patience is going to be my biggest challenge throughout this next phase. Dr. Bhanusali set realistic expectations for me by saying I should expect my best results at the 12-month mark. “You're going to be frustrated the first two weeks, and by the three-month mark, you’re still frustrated because you're not seeing the growth,” he says. “By six to eight months, you think, ‘Okay, maybe this is doing something’ and by 12 months, you say, ‘This is the best decision of my life.’”
But even so, a hair transplant isn’t a one-and-done cure-all for hair loss. “If you do a transplant and you're not taking care of the ongoing hair loss, the transplant doesn't stop that,” says Dr. Finney. “You need a good plan in place to combat the ongoing hair loss.” After hearing this, I knew I had to get to work on a routine that was suitable for me so I didn’t end up balding in the shape of a donut around my crown area. My doctor in the Netherlands initially recommended topical minoxidil to combat hair loss and make my hair appear thicker, but when speaking to Dr. Finney, he said that I should use a topical or oral finasteride to block DHT, the root cause of damage to my hair follicles, and strongly consider finishing a PRP series. He recommends beginning with three treatments spaced out four weeks apart, and following up with two to three treatments per year afterwards to help maintain the results. “PRP increases the viability of the grafts [by stimulating] wound healing and collagen[-building],” he says.” It helps improve the scalp and the blood supply, so that will get your grafts to regrow quicker and ensure that less of them die off.”
My Thoughts Post-Hair Transplant
After sharing snippets of my recovery on social media, I received numerous questions from friends curious about my experience. They asked about everything from pricing and location to pain levels and the recovery period—the list goes on. While none of their questions were complex, most of my answers stemmed from the same sentiment: Everyone is different. It was gratifying to know people in my network were looking to me for answers to questions they might have been pondering for a long time. I say this with confidence because for a long time, that was me.
Looking back, my hair transplant experience was daunting, from the initial consultation to the completion of my procedure. However, it was ultimately rewarding, and I am excited to see my results sprout one hair at a time.
Here are my final thoughts: If your hair has been thinning over the last few years, don’t lose hope—and talk to an expert right away. As a man, societal norms have prevented me from oversharing for fear of seeming too vulnerable. While my hesitancy to speak about my hair loss could be the reason that led me to get a hair transplant, little did I know the more I expressed my hair insecurities to people I trusted, the more I was exposing myself to the world of cosmetic procedures, breaking down the stigma surrounding hair transplants in men just like me.
If you are on the market for a lasting solution, do your research and find a doctor that’s right for you. Take the time to research their clinic and look for before-and-after photos of previous patients for credibility. And try to remember that hair loss isn’t just about losing your hair; it’s about finding a solution to rebuilding your happiness, confidence, and self-esteem from the ground up.
I often regret not addressing my hair loss sooner, but I’m grateful I got a transplant when I did. Now, as I see my renewed self and rebuild my confidence, I feel a sense of pride and purpose, knowing my journey can inspire men like me to take action and share their journeys as openly as I am.
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