Journal: Surviving a Lonely Week in a Hotel After a Transplant

celeb hair vet · December 21, 2008

Hi guys, sorta newbie here. Am enjoying looking up the blogs and especially reading everybody's heartfelt journey to improving their appearances. One thing I noticed is that most guys here were married when they did a HT. I wasnt married during my first HT and decided to get a weekly hotel insteading of heading back home. I knew I was out of the social game for awhile, and didnt have a wife waiting for me, so I spent a lonely week in a crappy motel room recuperating. For anyone who can relate, here was part of my journal:

Post Op: Wow! I really did it. All the lead up seemed surreal but ive really dont it. Im sitting on the bed and i go to the mirror and cant believe my head looks like a refugee zone. This is seriously drastic! What did i get myself into?

Night One: Took a short nap and woke up feeling lonely. I feel the loneliness pretty intensely now. Can I really make it through another six days here in this crappy room? I know Im making an investment in my future but i wasnt ready for this lonely road. In the words of Springsteen it feels like a freight train running through the middle of my head. I slam some meds down, watch "Cops" ( a few dudes wearing sleeveless t shirts with tattoos headed to jail for domestic violence) and drift off to sleep worried about my mini grafts. What happens if I roll over in my sleep and they start bleeding?

Day Two: Wake up in a fog. How did i get into this crappy motel? What am i doing here? And then it hits me. Transplant!! And then the compulsive dash to the mirror to "inspect" your surgery. My head was wrapped in a turban-like bandage that looks bloody. I gingerly unwrap the thing and take a peek. Bloody mess. Im tempted to get into the shower and wash it off but ive been told to wait another day before the shower "trickle". The painful freight train starts again and I slam my meds and start a long day of television shows. Its been awhile since I've watched "Newhart" re runs. The telly has become my best friend which is pretty pathetic. Im not hungry but by the end of the day i order out for pizza and answer the door in my turban. The middle east driver is wearing one too so he thinks i'm a blood brother from the sand wars. the pizza is cold and before I drift off it occurs to me that I've watched at least nineteen television shows today. Two of which were watchable.

Day Three: Im feel like a veteran at this now. Slept pretty well. There is some dizziness and a serious head rush when I get up quickly off the bed. Then it hits me. I get to shower today! What a luxury. I crawl toward the bathroom and carefully remove the turban. Some blood has tumbled down onto my face and into my eyebrows. I hope the grafts are implanted! Stepping into the shower, i set the water on lukewarm and soap up my body, careful to keep my head away from the spray. Im truly filthy. I must have smelled like a diseased camel to the pizza delivery guy last night but who cares? Now for the hard part. I've been told to let the shower water hit that back of my head lightly and let the water tumble forward over the top of my grafts. The sensation is strange but I think Im doing it right. I take some shampoo and clean the horseshoe area around my head. I dont want to use any of it for a couple days on the top yet. I spend at least five minutes letting the glorious water flow over the top of my head removing all that blood, gunk, sweat, dirt, grease, and funk. When I exit the shower i feel like a new man and finally get a better look at the grafts. Less gruesome than i thought. I feel woozy again and sit down on the bed. This room is starting to close in on me. I settle in for for another long day of television. Im starting to feel like im living in a cave. I decide to switch up and order a sub sandwich for dinner. No strange look from the delivery driver this time. Im wearing an oversize cap.

Day Four: Slept awful last night. More dizziness on my way to the shower. This time i let the tepid water run over my scalp and venture to use a little Johnsons baby shampoo on my grafts. The grafts feel strange to the touch but they feel solid. I feel tiny little hairs in them. Im getting the hell outta this room today!!!! I dress in some sweatpants, get into my car, and drive to a local park that i'd scoped out before my HT. I get out of the car and begin to walk and it feels great. Im wearing the cap on my head and the excercise feels good. There are people and dogs here and i begin to feel human for the first time. I cant walk quickly because there is a slight pulsing in my forehead and graft area. The excercise does me wonders. No doubt i could have done this the second day but i was paranoid. I walk a good mile or two at a slow pace and then check out a movie that afternoon. Im starting to return to regular life now. I could probably head home now, but i made the decision to give myself a week before seeing friends again on this self-imposed exile. Its is a sort of vacation that i've never taken before. I've never spent a week alone! More pizza in the room later.

Day Five: I awake to some swelling in my forehead. I look like Frankenstein! The swelling is getting worse. Nothing much to worry about. I decide to actually do some work and i get my briefcase out and make some phone calls to customers. The contact is strange. I havnt spoken to anyone except three delivery drivers. I've already made plans to wear a jogging suit and a ballcap for a couple weeks when i return to work next week. I can get away with it because when im at the plant im only there to pick up brochures and such. Im gonna work the phones for a couple weeks at home instead of working in the field.

Day Six: I return to the Docs office and they inspect my head. Too early to remove the staples. The swelling doesnt concern the doc too much. Im doing great he says. He gives me more pain meds. I dont really need them but i take them. They'll go into the medicine cabinet at home for a rainy day when i slam my toe on the bedpost or something. When I return to the room I sit down on the bed and then get hit by a thought. I cant stand another minute of this place and im getting outta Dodge. The bald hotel clerk gives me a wary glance when I announce im leaving early. Im wearing the oversize cap and my eyes have some swelling. I can see in his eyes "FREAK!" Dude knows something's up, because his beady eyes keep blinking, but he cant figure out what my gig is.

I do a quick pack and im on the road. Four hour drive ahead of me. I feel like I just escaped from Leavenworth on the back of a garbage truck. Ive returned to the real world. I keep blinking like a rat stowed aboard the space shuttle. Funny how six days of virtually no human contact can turn you into some kind of deviant hermit. I finally arrive home and feel like I've been gone a month.

Am I really going to make it to the three month mark before this stuff starts growing? (mini grafts in the old days on a virgin scalp started popping up at 2 and 3 months).

I stumble into bed careful not to disturb either the grafts or my donor strip. The damn thing hurts in the back, theres no getting around it.

All those ads from transplant doctors about "virtually no pain" are out and out lies because slamming the back of your head down on a pillow hurts when you've got an eight inch incision line that keeps oozing blood around the stitches.

While im on the topic, those needles hurt like crazy. Sticking needles into the back of your neck HURTS. Why sugar coat it?

If you've got the balls to do a transplant, you've got the balls to endure the pain, plain and simple.

I sleep like a baby ready to face the world....but im like a small child on christmas night.

I have no idea how hard it is going to be waiting for those little suckers to grow!

celeb hair vet · December 21, 2008