Samson.
I don’t know what it is about hair, but men have a thing about it.
Some men can accept it I suppose, when baldness begins earlier in life and is a slow process; in other words, when it slowly becomes part of their appearance, even part of their character. But there are some whom baldness attacks in another way and leaves them with the dreaded comb-over. They hate the comb-over, but they hate the thought of revealing their baldness even more. And the odd thing about it is that everyone else knows they have a comb-over. Still, they don’t mind as long as the bald pate is covered.
I think it was from the aged of fifty or so that my receding hair and my comb-over began to take shape. It also became a great problem. I would watch the weather forecast to see if the next day going to be windy. If it did turn out to be windy, I would wet my finger with my mouth and hold it up to find out which direction the wind was coming from so that I could position myself in such a way that the comb-over wouldn’t blow over.
I also used a lot of spray to hold the comb-over in position. And whenever I wasn’t working the baseball hat became part of my attire. This was okay when I was on holidays as everyone else wore baseball caps. But then, everyone else could dive into the pool and enjoy their swim. I couldn’t, of course. I remember the last dive. As I emerged from the pool, someone smiled and said, ‘A high forehead!’ Their way of saying I was going bald. So I stopped swimming and sat on my deckchair and watched everyone else enjoying themselves. Difficult as all this was, it was somehow preferable to revealing my baldness to the world. And the awful thing about it was, I knew there was no cure. Or so I thought. I had seen people wearing hair pieces – you can spot them a mile away! And I had seen people with crude implants – plugs that were even worse than hair pieces.
But it wasn’t until I saw Maurice Collins on TV talking about his new procedure at Samson House that I began to wonder. Was it possible that people could have hair again? – their own hair transplanted from other areas of their own head? Furthermore, from my point of view, was it worthwhile? After all I was now approaching the age of 70. I discussed it with my wife; yes, I told her, I would love to try it, 70 or not. She was also acutely aware of my problem and she agreed. Why not? So I decided to go for it. Even then I didn’t think it would work. Even after the first transplant procedure, I didn’t think it would work. However, the staff assured me as I was leaving that it would, and they were right.
I think my wife and I were on a short visit to Prague when I spotted the first new hairs on the front part of my head where the first transplant had been done. The growth was gradual, so much so that no one else noticed it and I was so delighted that I decided to get the rest of my scalp done. What a change! What a wonderful feeling. I had hair again! No more baseball caps. No more fear of the wind. No more fear of baldness.
For the first time in thirty years, I dived into the pool while on holidays this year. I swam every day and intend to do so again on my next break. Maurice Collins said the procedure would take twenty years off me, and so it has. People say to me, ‘How are you? You’re looking very well. I smile. They know I am looking well, but the procedure has been so gradual, they don’t know why. My wife knows why, and she’s as delighted with it as I am. She says it was worth every cent, and I agree.
And, by the way, I didn’t get a cent for writing this! Incidentally, did I say I was 70? Maybe I am but you wouldn’t know it to look at me. And I don’t feel 70!
