THIS IS A RE-POST OF THE DRAMATIC TALE OF MY FACELIFT, DONE IN JUNE, 2009
It’s now S (for surgery) minus 12 days, and counting. On June 15, I will be getting a new face. Oddly, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t approached a plastic surgeon at a nearby teaching hospital with a few questions about the safety and development of new procedures a few weeks ago; one look at me, and he dubbed me the “perfect candidate” (not sure whether this is good or bad).
It so happened that the senior resident at the hospital was specializing in cosmetic facial work, and looking for a few good faces to rearrange before she moved on to private practice. So on June 15, the resident, under the supervision of a local plastic surgeon of excellent reputation (I checked—hey, research is what I do), will be chatting over a table full of instruments and yours truly, out cold.
I’m trying not to think about it—I’ve never been one to welcome pain (Hi there! Come on in and take a seat. Coffee?). But I couldn’t say no to the adventure AND the opportunity to stock up on Glucerna (the equally yucky low-sugar version of Ensure), as I’ll not be able to open my mouth much for a few days after the operation. People could be anticipating this all over town.
I MIGHT run the pix of before, during and after on this blog. I don’t know yet.
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