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May 2004
Keep YourHair Forever
His noggin was bare.He wanted hair.All he had to do was spend a week insunny Florida--and let a doctor cut2,200 holes in his head.
YVACATION PLANS were set: a week in a nice hotel in beautiful Boca Raton. But while other guys would returnfrom such a trip with golf scorecards and stealth bikini photos, I'd be coming home with the ultimate souvenir-afull head of hair. Or the seeds of one, at least. I'd decided that I was done being bald, so I signed on for a $10,000 procedure called follicular-unitmicrografting, a new surgery that lets you treat your scalp like a wheatfield and grow your own.My intended crop: hair. Lots of it.I was nervous, of course. Alot could happen. My seedlings could diein the field. It could look terrible. It could hurt. (The doctor told me I'd be awake the whole time.) Nursing these anxieties, I sat in the lobby of my hotel, jittery, waiting for the Town Car the surgeon sent for me. ThenI ran a hand across my smooth scalp and smiled. It would all be over soon. My indecent scalp exposure, that is.Here's what the first day of my vacation itinerary included: After numbing my skull with lots of anesthetics and some quality drugs (agreat selling point for any surgical procedure), the doctor would peel along, thin strip of hairy skin off the back and sides of my scalp-a eel of flesh with one greasy yellow side and one long, hairy, buzz-cut - side.Medical technicians would then separate every tiny, egg-shaped hair follicle from this "donor" tissue. Next, the doctor would incise thousandsof 3/16-inch-deep slits in my scalp. Then the surgical team would plant4,800 of my own healthy, productive hair follicles into the open wounds,one, two, or three at a time.The more I thought about it, the more I thought that sending a driver was the least the clinic could do. Acigarette and a blindfold might bemore like it.The sterling service continued when I arrived in the wood and earth-toned lobby of the Bauman Medical Group. Apretty, redheaded nurse brought me water and Valium. (Should I have tipped?) Smooth jazzdripped from speakers. After I was shown to Dr. Alan Bauman's office, Irealized that he was Valium in human form-so calming, experienced, andreassuring. Plus, he'd assembled a team of two M.D.'s and four nurse/technicians to work the assembly line of my bead. And this is theguy who is a nationally recognized leader in microsurgical hair restoration including eyelash transplants. My head is the Capitol dome incomparison. How could he miss?Dr. Bauman made sure that I'd adhered to the pre-op regimen of abstinence from alcohol and aspirin (blood thinners) and had refrainedfrom strenuous exercise. (Impact workouts can hinder clotting.) Why the precautions? Well, you've heard about how head wounds bleed. In thename of progress, Dr. Bauman was about to inflict thousands of them.
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