Call Me Plastic Surgery Curious

When I was young, I sniffed and sneered at the idea of plastic surgery. Now that I’ve reached what is politely called “a certain age,” I’m not so sure. At 69, my jowls have headed south, and my neck waddle rivals a turkey. As a result, I’ve become plastic surgery curious. Very curious.

Oh, how my family would be appalled!

You see, my mother wore her wrinkles with pride. She was vehemently anti-plastic surgery. My oldest brother, whose legal expertise focused on medical mishaps, was strongly opposed to unnecessary surgeries.

Plastic Surgery Curious

And so, even though for the past few years, whenever I looked in the mirror, meaning daily, and saw the signs of aging, I toyed with the idea of a lift here, a tuck there. However, I always dropped the idea — so strong was the sense of familial disapproval (even though both my mother and 21-years-older brother are long deceased). The mere thought of their displeasure put the proverbial kibosh on my daydreams of renewed facial tautness and glory!

Cuts Like a Knife

That plus I’m a coward.

I mean, honestly, the idea of “optional” surgery is scary! Why voluntarily entrust someone with a knife and invite them to start carving on your face? “They” might call it a scalpel and “it” might be in the name of vanity, but still, if it’s sharp, cuts, and draws blood, it’s all bloody scary!

Anyway, Cher, who obviously has had a ton of face (and body) work done looks great. Madonna (the singer, not the mother of you-know-who), looks ungodly awful! Jennifer Aniston looks pretty good, but not “quite” herself. So, plastic surgery is no small thing to consider even when done by a plastic surgeon master.

So, what’s a vain almost-oldster with wrinkles and a harsh magnifying mirror to do?

Still Plastic Surgery Curious. And More Curious!

My dilemma recently became more complicated because I identified a doctor-with-a-knife — i.e. a plastic surgeon — of high repute who I consulted with, liked, and most important of all, trusted.

Curses!

I went in hoping he would tell me I was being too harsh on myself. I went in hoping he’d say I look great and don’t need to do anything. At a minimum, I hoped he’d say I don’t need to do too much.

The appointment began on a promising note.

Dr. S told me I had great hair. Hooray! Then, he added that the way I styled it would be perfect for covering the initial post-surgical scars.

After that “compliment,” he ticked off a long list of recommended improvements to “refresh” my face. It was a doozy of a list! It made my head spin. My jowls wiggle. My turkey neck wabble. The worst part? All the suggestions were appropriate. Moderate even.

I can assure you this “to-do” list wasn’t about the doctor running a tab. He’s a close friend of a family member and kindly offers me a ridiculous discount for his services.

To Facelift or Not to Facelift?

So, I’m conflicted. I’m vain. The doctor’s skilled. So, I’m game, sorta …

On the other hand, is it right to tamper with what Mother Nature and Mom gave you?

Plus, no matter how great the surgery goes, I won’t simply look “refreshed” but somehow different, no matter how subtly so. How will I feel about that? How will my husband feel?

Handsome Hubby Says …

And, you might wonder, how does Handsome Hubby feel about this idea? Truthfully, he’s not thrilled. In fact, he’s sweetly terrified. He thinks I look great, but you know what they say, “Love is blind.” HH worries that I’ll look different and he’s also, concerned about possible surgical complications. Still, the non-judgmental person that he is, HH says it’s my decision. If I want to do it, then I should.

So, there you have it.

It’s up to me and I’m up in the air. I’m leaning toward doing it. We’ll see …

(To be continued … although I’m not exactly sure when.)

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