Behold! The following is a brief record of my horribly tragic, pitiable and heartbreaking hair loss experience. My story is the ultimate in classic tragedy, forcing upon all predecessors a veil of inferiority that not even Hamlet, Death of a Salesman or Blues Clues could overcome.
Too much build up? You're probably right. After all, it's just hair. And as they say, "Hair today, gone tomorrow."
I am in my early thirties. Although I have always had fair, thin hair and a relatively higher hairline than some, I noticed in my later college years that my hairline seemed to be getting higher than Robert Downey Jr. at the Viper Room in 1995. And believe me, that's high. Since I was lucky enough to have the top, center area of hair intact, I simply wore my hair longer on the top and let it rest over the higher hairline in a modified "bowl cut" look.
But I noticed the hairline continue to recede like Betamax sales for the next year, and decided to start taking Propecia daily starting in late 2002. Three years ago I changed to Proscar, and have continued this ever since. It looks to have helped taper off the hair loss progression.
Over the last six years since starting Propecia, my hairline has maintained a similar level. I have noticed very subtle thinning front and center, and perhaps a few millimeters continued recession, but nothing dramatic.
I have decided that this is the perfect time to begin the transplant process. I still have my top hair intact, and can successfully shroud the procedure. My hairline is high enough to make it worthwhile, but not so high that people will ask questions. If I continue my current medication and my hair-loss trends continue, I anticipate I may need another transplant in the future, but likely not for another 8-10 years. Just in time for my Mid-Life crisis. I look forward to it!
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