It hardly seems possible that it’s already a week since my GIC appointment.
I’ve been in something of a numb state since then, not really able to take it all in. After all the nervous build-up and the tension everything was so simple. Effectively I’d done all the hard work at my first appointment and last week was just a review and rubber stamping exercise, which was the last thing I’d expected.
About the only thing that has gelled with me over the past week has been the realisation that with the best will in the world I’m never going to “look right” with my own hair, unless the hormones combined with the Finasteride can somehow work miracles, and so a wig finally rose to the top of the pile as far as necessities are concerned.