Fiberfiend is currently blogging on her attempt to knit an almost authentic Bohus sweater.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Check Back in 2 Weeks




Though I feel a little tight around the ears and through the throat, I think we will call this adventure a success. I'm sleeping in my own bed (though not as well as I expect I will in another day or two), I'm eating semi-solid food (still no steak) and I'm off all pain meds with the occassional exception of a Tylenol. I have a one-month check-in scheduled with the surgeon for the first week of March; I'll take final photos and do a running comparison then.

See you in two weeks!

Monday, February 15, 2010

In the Public Eye




I think I'm on the last legs of looking like a surgical patient even though it still feels like my head's been twisted onto my neck a little too tightly, and I don't like the dull ache that comes from trying to sleep on my side. Some throat bruising still has to resolve, there are little knots under the skin at the outside corners of my eyes that should smooth out over the next few days, and I keep finding bits of the outside stitches on my lower eyelids as the inside stitches dissolve.

But I did go out to the grocery store this afternoon and there was no screaming from the patrons nor mothers trying to shield their babies from my looks. In fact, no one even blinked looking at me. So I guess my self imposed isolation period is over.

There are a couple of things that have surprised me during this little respite from the world; things I wish I had had the forethought to ask before the surgery, or had the brains to have figured out after. Like:

The itching as I healed was all but intolerable, and kept me from sleeping well more than one night. When I asked the surgeon for more sleeping pills at our one week check-in, he suggested benedryl to both sooth the itch and make me drowsy. Wish I'd thought of that ahead of time. I already had several bottles in the house.

The ointment used to lubricate the eyes and keep the incisions on the eyelids moist came in very tiny tubes. I used up two tubes and started on the third before the stitches came out. I'm glad my husband was available to run out to the drug store for more when I used up the first tube on day 3. If I hadn't had him to run errands I would have been in big trouble. Wish I had been instructed to pick up more than one tube to begin with.

The week before surgery I picked up several books on tape, a novel, and a number of movies to watch as I laid around and ate bon bons. Nobody mentioned that my eyes would be too swollen to read or watch TV for at least a week, and that my ears would be too tender to wear earphones (or hold a phone to!) for just as long. Those first five or six days were so mind numbingly boring that I wanted to scream. Of course, I can't think of what other amusements I might have planned for myself if I had known I would neither be able to see or touch my ears.

During my initial consultation I asked, as I suppose all potential patients do, how long I would be "out". The standard reply is "about a week." Which, in retrospect, is about right; after my one week check-in I went to the movies. But my stamina is compromised; I was in pretty good shape before surgery and now I'm pretty much worn out by simple exertion. When you consider that I'm at the early end of the age spectrum of women who do this, a week isn't really long enough to be back fully in the swing of things. So a better answer might have been "a week to be presentable in public, another week to be back to full strength." Maybe then I wouldn't have planned quite as much activity in post-op week 2.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

10 Days Later I'm a Little Chinese




Ten days after surgery, and I'm amazed at how different I look. The eyes are still a little puffy, and there's a little swelling in front of the ears and along the jaw line, giving me a sort of Asian look according to my husband. Put on a little makeup to see if I can get by in public, and I've decided that it's time to get out of the house tomorrow!

I still have some issues with chewing; the tightness along the side of my ears and down my neck make opening my mouth very wide painful, and chewing anything "stiff" (think steak) or too crunchy is out of the question. But every day is a little better.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Just Another Day




Lest you think that the first week is the only week that counts in the healing process, let me say that, although I'm feeling 1000 times better than I was a week ago, I'm not all the way back. My ears are so tender that I still can't lay on my side, which means I'm still sleeping in the recliner. Geez. The lymph nodes at the back of my head and neck are the size and texture of hazelnuts, and I can't set the ear pieces of my glasses on the top curve of my ears for more than 15 minutes at a time. The bruises on my throat and under my left eye still haven't faded enough not raise eyebrows in public and the odd way I have to turn my body instead of my head is a real bother.

But other than that, I'm in pretty good shape.

Friday, February 12, 2010

What a Difference a Week Makes




It's been exactly a week since the surgery, and time for the stitches holding together my eyelids and chin to come out. I slept badly last night since it's still very uncomfortable to sleep in any position but sitting up; the tenderness around my ears is significant, and even the light pressure of a pillow on the side of my head is disturbing. If I had had any more sleeping pills (they only dispensed 5; one for the night before surgery, two for during surgery, and two to be used during the first week post op) I would have taken one. But all things considered, I woke up feeling pretty much like myself, albeit like myself with puffy eyes like I had been crying all night.

Headed to the surgeon's office to have my stitches removed. His Surgical Manager met me at the door and escorted me to an exam room where she snipped the threads holding my upper eyelids together and pulled them out, and did the same with the two little stitches under my chin. Didn't hurt a bit. She reviewed what care and treatment I should follow for the next week, took some "after" photos, set up an appointment for a one month check-up and went to fetch the doctor.

Then the doc came in and gave me a hug. "You look wonderful," he said, "better than expected for one week." He reviewed another few items (I could go back to exercising if I started slow and was careful, could start wearing make up if I kept it off the incisions, and could switch to warm wet compresses instead of ice if I was so inclined.)

"But doc," I said, "the stitches in my lower eyelids are driving me crazy." Turns out the lower lids are stitched with dissolvable stitches that would take care of themselves. "But it's like having caterpillars on my eye, and they itch. A lot. And I'm not sleeping very well." Though he couldn't refill the sleeping pill script, he suggested I pick up some Benedryl at the drug store that would help both with the lingering itchiness and would help me sleep. Those two little stitches at the inside corners of my eyes were buried pretty deep, but he took a good look and told the Surgical Manager she could go ahead and remove them, too, since I was healed well enough.

She had to dig a little to get them out. That hurt. But it was such a relief to get them out that I forgive her the 10 seconds of real pain.

There's still another week or two where the swelling will diminish and the real shape of my "new" face will reveal itself. I'm beginning to see cheekbones.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

On Being Human




On the 5th night after surgery I slept like a rock. Maybe that's because I hadn't properly slept since I left the surgeon's office, or maybe I was just exhausted from doing nothing for so long, but in any event I slept well and felt almost human when I awoke.

I'm beginning to look like myself again, but it's too soon to tell if I'm a younger version of myself or not. The eyes, clearly, are different, but the chipmunk cheeks from the swelling make it difficult to tell what I look like underneath the bruises. DH says there's a real difference in the number of countable chins but he's a good man who like to tell me what I want to hear so his opinion is suspect.

I'm fascinated by the way the incisions around the ear were done; almost imperceptible around the front and very thin around the back. I can detect no stitches around the front of my ears and can't figure out how the incisions were closed; glue, maybe? (Don't laugh; superglue was originally a skin adhesive.)

I'm still missing some feeling in the right ear, and there's a steady ache in my cheekbones, but neither is unbearable. My neck is still very tight; turning my body seems to make so much more sense than turning my head. I had to sneeze today, and the shock to my eyes and neck with the jolt of the sneeze was like being zapped with a taser. (OK, I've never personally been zapped by a taser, but it felt just like it looks on TV.)

I did sneak out of the house for about 30 seconds in the middle of the night; it was trash day, a chore usually attended to by The Man of the House, but he pulled a hamstring playing basketball and went to bed without setting out the recycling. When it occurred to me that someone should do it and the choices were slim, I sneaked out, ace bandage wrapped around my head, and took the trash to the curb. The night was brisk, the stars were out, and to some small degree it was like getting out of jail.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

You PAID Someone to Do That To You?




Most of my face and a goodly portion of my neck have moved to that shade of chartreuse unique to 5 day old bruises. I stayed awake all day with only a brief doze before dinner, took only Tylenol for discomfort and made corn chowder out of my frozen corn face packs.

I knit most of a small shawl, watched 6 episodes of Good Eats and made the best orange scented pound cake I've ever had (thank you Alton Brown).

I tried napping in my own bed propped up on pillows but the pressure on my ears made me anxious I would tear out stitches, so I couldn't sleep.

I turned down visits from two dear friends because I'm a little grouchy but that's probably due to the fact that I haven't had a full night's sleep in 5 days; I'm thinking tonight I should sleep well, and then I'll be ready for company. (Won't be going out in public yet, though, because I'm afraid someone would suspect that I was a victim of spousal abuse, and I would hate to have anyone think that of my kind and gentle husband.)

I'm starting to feel a little fat and sloppy 'cause I can't properly wash my hair, I've been living in sweat pants and pajamas, and I can't do much of anything but eat. (Yes, it's soft foods only, but that includes frozen dark cherry yogurt, tender pound cake, six cheese lasagna, cheddar omelets, fresh pineapple with toasted coconut and my husband's famous dinner rolls. By the dozen.) I'm ready for a little yoga, if not a 5k run.

And I'm really ready to have these cursed stitches taken out of my eyes.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Coming Along




OK, at this point I think I'm going to survive; my eyes are much less swollen and I can see the TV. Can't read yet, but I can knit by feel, so I don't feel completely useless. I'm using cold packs only a couple times a day instead of constantly, and I'm thinking tomorrow I may even cook something (hubby's had kitchen duty since this started, and a darn good job he's done, too.)

Still sleeping sitting up, still wishing I could lay on my side, but I guess that will come with time. Really starting to crave normal food; enough with the soup and pasta already! But opening my mouth far enough to put in a big bite of anything isn't happening yet; too tight, too stiff, too sore. And chewing hurts a little. Starting to dream about a big bowl of cereal, maybe granola. And cookies with nuts in them. And maybe caramels.

There must be a dozen tiny little stitches in my eyelids, and they itch like crazy. When they're not itching, they're poking me, which is most uncomfortable. The bruises on my neck have gone green, as have the bruises under my eyes. More than anything, my eyes look like really bad Mardi Gras make-up, something from an 80s disco theme party (don't laugh; I remember my mother had green mascara she wore with green eye shadow.)

I found a tiny bottle of topical analgesic that came with an eyebrow waxing kit. It has benzocaine in it, and I'm tempted to use it on the parts of my face that hurt. I mean, if you can put it on skin that's just had hairs ripped out by the roots with hot wax, it's probably OK to use on tender spots. I remember it being very mild and soothing when I used it in the past, but I haven't gotten up the nerve to try it yet; what if it burns? Or hurts more? Maybe I'll wait a little longer.....

The feeling in my left ear has returned, and it's not too bad. That plastic feeling is gone, but the ear doesn't hurt as much as I had expected. The right ear is coming back in stages; there's sensation at the top of the ear, but it's pretty much styrofoam from the midpoint down. I imagine that will fade over the next few days.

So now it's a waiting game; waiting for the stitches to come out (4 more days!), waiting for the bruising to fade, waiting for the swelling to come down so I can see what I really look like. Right now it's anybody's guess.

Just don't call me Joan.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Mindlessly Boring Healing




I have entered that No Man's Land in the healing process where I can't really do anything and I'm bored. I'm tired of sleeping alone in a recliner, I'm tired of eating soft stuff, and I'm tired of feeling useless. I'm not a great patient; two days should be enough down time, by my thinking. My mother used to say "Wait 3 days. You'll either be better, or dead." She was probably talking about the flu, though, and not face surgery.

I'm a little worried about my ears; it's usual for the ears to be numb for some time after surgery, but mine feel like plastic. It's as though they don't actually belong to me and are perched on the side of my face so there will be something for my reading glasses to rest on. I suppose I should be grateful; my guess is that when feeling comes back to my ears, it will come with a vengeance.

The directions from the doctor were specific about the compression bandage fitting over the ears to provide pressure both in front and in back. I take this to mean that the Ace bandage is holding my ears in place. There's also a warning about being careful not to tear the ear sutures putting on or taking off clothing. But not to worry, the warning says, if you tear your ears off they're easy enough to put back on. (OK, it doesn't actually say "if you tear your ears off", it's more along the lines of "if you tear the sutures out." Same thing, though. Right?)

Too much light seems to bother my eyes quite a bit; for the first time ever I asked my husband to close the blinds on the sliders that lead to the back porch because it was too bright. I can manage about an hour of TV before I need to lay back and ice my eyes some more. The swelling around my eyes is much less than yesterday, and I'm beginning to think I'll resemble "normal" in another day or two, at least around the eyes.

My husband says I look a lot like my sister right now. My sister, seven years younger than I and known as The Pretty One, has a more triangular shaped face than mine, and swelling around my cheeks and ears has distorted my face towards that shape. All things considered, it could be worse; I could look like my brother, who is older. Frankly, I'm thinking I look eerily like Julie Newmar (hah! that dates me!)

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Wrap Comes Off!





I know that the compression bandage was supposed to stay on 48 hours straight, but I couldn't stand it any more and took it off at 8 a.m. on Day 2. Only long enough to shower and comb the gunk out of my hair, and to redress the incisions. Then I put it back on.

The itching on my neck has been pretty intense, and not much helps. There's only one little incision under my chin, but the whole neck area feels like ants are in there. I'm guessing the liposuction causes the itch. If I put an ice pack on it, the itching abates a little, but freezes my neck. I tried to juggle two bags of frozen corn, a towel to wrap them in, the blanket on my lap, and the recliner lever all at once; too many things to do on pain meds. I finally figured out that I could set everything down on the end table, climb into the recliner, cover myself up, then apply the ice. Now I understand the Don't Drive directive.

I also figured out how to ice my eyes and nap at the same time. If I lay just so, with my head at just the right angle, and set the ice pack on the towel in such a way that it covers my eyes but not my nose, and hold very still, I can doze. But my own snoring can startle me awake.

My neck looks a little lumpy where the liposuction was done. I think that's normal at first, and will even out as the swelling continues to go down. I'm surprised by how much swelling has left my eyes; I feel like I have a bad allergy or sunburn. I've been icing my eyes almost continuously and that helps a lot.

Took the compression bandage off at the 48 hour mark and, lo and behold, the itching stopped. Maybe I'm reacting to the compression band itself; it's pretty much an Ace bandage with a velcro strip on the end instead of hooks (now that's an ugly picture; using those little metal hooks to hold on a bandage around your new face. Ewww.)

I'm feeling a little more like I was hit by a bus as the residual numbness leaves new parts of my face. I've stopped taking the heavy pain medicine and moved on to Tylenol, and that makes a difference, too. Bruises are leaking into my cheeks and neck, but they're minor; none of that dark purple and blue I expected.

I haven't had much appetite since the surgery, and it's difficult to open my mouth very far, so I'm sticking to really soft and manageable foods; lasagna for dinner tonight. A friend dropped by with some home made chocolate coconut pecan cookies and I almost cried trying to eat one; had to break it into crumbs and suck on those.

My neck feels like a rubber band that's pulled too tight. I'm going back to bed.

First 24 Hours

I can't tell you much about the first evening after surgery; between the pain pills and the anti-anxiety meds I just don't remember much. I do know that I slept. And put bags of frozen corn on my face. And slept. And put fresh bags of frozen corn on my face. And slept some more. My eyelids were swollen shut and my vision was pretty limited; I could see to move around and get into the recliner, and I could find the bathroom, but reading or watching TV was out of the question. My husband kept a glass of juice mixed with ginger ale by my side and I sipped that all night.

Eating wasn't on the agenda either. Good thing I had that big brunch, not because I was nauseated after surgery, but because the head wrap kept my mouth closed. The compression bandage was supposed to keep my ears stitched to my head in one position, and effectively kept me from opening my mouth more than about an inch. I could talk, but it came out a mumble. (Most face tightening requires that the ears are almost cut out, and then stitched back in place once excess skin is pulled up and cut off. There will be a small scar that outlines the ear from front to back. I only hope my freckles hid it.)

I didn't have any pain at all the first night, and slept well. The very next morning, bright and early, we were back at the surgeon's office for a post-op check. I was a little amused that they had us come in through the back door; no mummy wrapped bloody patients at the main entrance, please. My stomach was a little unsettled, and while I waited for the surgeon to get his supplies I kept a trash can handy. As soon as the doc dropped the back of the chair and I laid back, the nausea stopped. He removed the head wrap, cleaned everything , applied some ointment, and re-wrapped my head. Still no pain, though the stitches in my eyelids were poking me every time I blinked. He sent me home with an appointment to return in one week to have stitches removed. That seemed an awfully long time in the future.

The first full day wasn't horrible, but I was glad to have the pain pills at the ready. It seemed that I was comfortable for the first hour after I took pain meds, the second hour I began to realize that I was achy, the third hour I was irritable and by the fourth hour my husband was wishing he were somewhere else. We worked out a system where he handed me a pain pill and a glass of water every three and a half hours, and that helped.

It wasn't so much that I was in a great deal of pain, but that things were starting to itch. I was applying an eye lubricant every hour or so to keep the eye sutures soft and moist. I used up the original small tube pretty quickly and DH had to pick up a second tube at the drugstore that night. I was alternating frozen corn with frozen peas on my face, and the eye swelling had diminished enough for me to focus, so I could check my email, but any more reading than that was tiring. Watching TV was tiring, too, so after one TV show I gave that up and opted for dozing. I was starting to look like I had been run over; the bruising from my eyes was draining into my face.

The big issue was my chin, where the incisions were made for the liposuction; there was a four inch strip under my chin that itched and ached. Moving my mouth made it worse, so eating was problematic. But by mid day I was hungry! My husband is an excellent baker, and made fresh rolls for me to eat. I had to tear them into tiny pieces to fit into the little opening of my mouth and then mash them up; chewing was kept to a minimum. By evening my ears were aching, too, and I was counting minutes to the next pain pill.

I wanted to tear off the compression bandage and scratch everywhere! I wanted a shower, I wanted to comb my hair, and I wanted to rub my itching ears. But the bandage is supposed to stay put for 48 hours, and I'm a compliant patient. Sleeping the second night was much harder than the first; I'd doze, then wake and ice my face, then doze, then get up and put lubricant in my eyes. And try not to scratch.

Post Op ride home

24 hours Post Op

My big plans for Day 3; take a shower!

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Nip 'n Tuck (Warning: PG 13 Photos)

I slept really well the night before my little surgery, and I think I could have done so without the little anti-anxiety pill the doc gave me. I only woke once or twice thinking "what are you doing?" and "are you sure you haven't lost your mind?" The Morning Of Surgery dawned clear and sunny and I had finished all the things I promised myself I would accomplish before going under the knife (one of DH's less funny comments); my post-surgery clothing was washed and folded and easily accessible (all those yoga pants and button up shirts), the pharmacy supplies picked up (including a nice assortment of pain pills, which is actually an oxymoron, since they are truly anti-pain pills) and a stack of reading materials, books on tape, and an updated Netflix list by the recliner. The freezer was full of frozen peas and corn to use as cold compresses, and I had a dozen little towels to wrap them in.

Did my last real exercise workout for a while (no bending, lunging or side kicks for two weeks) and made sure it was a good one; I'd like to get back into the same size pants in two weeks as I wear now, and only extreme exercise seems to make that possible. After 312 cross-legged sit ups, crunch frogs and oblique V-ups, I washed my hair one more time, and I was ready. Per doctor's instructions, DH and I were to have one more balanced meal before I hit the clinic. My pick, so IHop for eggs and pancakes with butter pecan syrup (a real no-no since Tony Horton and P90X entered my life.) On the way out I had my sweetheart take one more "before" shot, this time absent make up or combed hair. At 12:35 we pulled into the clinic parking lot and spent 15 minutes reading the paper (well, DH read the paper while I tried not to hyperventilate.)

A lovely young woman named Monica took me, along with all the prescribed meds and the whopping check to pay for the procedure, to the surgical suite and sent DH to go waste a couple of hours on his own. The "surgical suite" looked like most exam rooms I've been in over the past few years, with the addition of a wide reclining chair. She took the required Before photos against a stark beige wall. After I was seated, she gave me another couple of anti-anxiety pills, took my blood pressure (123/87 which was waaaay on the anxious side for me) and "prepped me for surgery." This included tying back my hair, draping me from chin to toe in blankets and then surgical sheets, and scrubbing my face with antibacterial soap. By this time I was calm, almost serene; better living through chemicals.

The surgeon came in to check on me, reviewed the procedure with me one more time, and left for what I guess was a minute or two but may have been longer because my sense of time was distorting. When he came back, the fun began.

The actual procedure I was having was a "reduction" of my upper and lower eyelids, a liposuction of my chin and a tightening of my face and neck by making incisions around the ears and pulling the skin taut. This is all done with local anesthesia; no "going under," and is usually considered a "mini lift." I took the anti-anxiety pills about 1:30, the doctor began his work just before 2 p.m. and I was in the car on the way home by 4:30.

The most uncomfortable part of the procedure was the "numbing medicine." Both the doctor and his nurse referred to the injections as "numbing medicine"; not novacaine, not lidocaine, just "numbing medicine". This seemed funny to me at the time, because I wanted to ask for numbing medicine for the numbing medicine. Those needle pricks hurt! The worst were the ones along the eyebrow; I was convinced the doctor was using a 4" long needle and he was gong to inject it into my eye (it wasn't and he didn't). But once those injections were done, nothing hurt. In fact, though I was awake for the whole procedure, it wasn't even uncomfortable. My only complaint was that my left hand, kept outside of the blankets so a blood pressure cuff and oxygen monitor could be attached, was cold.


The surgeon began on my right side, and completed the liposuction first. If you've ever seen a TV show where liposuction is performed, it looks pretty much exactly like that; a long skinny metal straw attached to a plastic tube is inserted into a hole the doctor makes under the chin (I like to think the hole was between my 1st and 2nd chins) and the excess fat is sucked out. It's a pretty vigorous procedure; the surgeon appeared to be playing a violin for the most part (or that was my impression, because I kept my eyes shut for most of it.)

He then moved on to my right ear. I could hear what he was doing, and thought it sounded a lot like someone sawing a piece of styrofoam. I tried to follow along with what I expected him to do and what it sounded like, but my train of thought was often interrupted by old songs and I'd have to stop listening to the doctor to sing along in my head. As he finished with my ear, it felt as though he gathered up a number of threads and pulled them very tight, then tied them into a knot (which may be exactly what he did, I guess.) Then he moved to my right eye.

I can't begin to explain what the surgeon was doing with my upper eyelid; my best guess is that he put a small clamp on my eyelid, sort of like those big hair clips that hold twisted hair up on the back of your head, and then snipped off the excess skin sticking out. I can only guess because I couldn't actually see what he was doing, and I only caught a glimpse of some tiny scissors, much like cuticle scissors. It didn't hurt, and it didn't seem to take long.

I'm totally clueless about the bottom eyelids; I guess I was in LaLa Land for that portion of the procedure. I woke up with teeny tiny stitches along the lower eyelid, but that's all I know for sure.

After the right side of my face was complete, the doctor rolled himself around to the other side on his little 6 wheeled seat and did the same thing again. Throughout all this, his nurse was by my side, and she usually had a comforting hand on my arm or shoulder. The thought occurs to me that she may have been holding me down, but it was comforting all the same.

When the surgeon was done, he got up, shook my hand, told me I was going to be even more lovely, and left for a moment. The nurse finished cleaning me up; this included a compression bandage that runs up, over and around my head at ear level. She then helped me up and to the door where the doctor met us and walked me out to where my husband and the car were waiting. The nurse turned me over to my husband, gave him some post-op insturctions, and we were on our way home.





I think this is the point where I say "You should see the other guy."

Tomorrow: Recovery Begins

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Before



It's two days before my mini-lift is scheduled and I've had my sweet, indulgent husband take "before" photos. In all the ads and all the web sites that show before and after photos of plastic surgery, the before photos are always taken when the patient looks their very worst; no makeup, hair straggly or pulled back, harsh lighting, pre-surgery anxiety adding to the horror. This, of course, is designed to make the "after" pix that much more amazing in their transformation.

Hooey.

I wanted a before photo that shows me at my current best; makeup on, hair combed, good lights. That way there would be a more "apple to apple" comparison for judging the overall results. So here they are in all their reveling glory: my Before Pictures

.

This one was taken with a flash, which washes out the dark circles under my eyes and softens the lines running from my nose to my mouth. Unfortunately, such flattering lighting isn't how most people see me. This is:



The side views show where my face is starting to slide:



And there's where you see the start of Mom's double chins.

(And Honey, thanks for the soft focus, but even that doesn't help much.)

It should be said that I've spent most of the past 6 months getting myself into shape physically; I've been following an extreme workout program that has given my a body better than what I had 20 years ago. So now that I have the body of a 30 year old (OK, a 40 year old in good shape) I want the face to match. Two days to go....

Monday, February 1, 2010

A Woman of a Certain Age


I've always known what I was going to look like as I age; it's been suggested more than once that I may have been the first human clone, that's how much I look like my mother.

I always thought my mother was a handsome woman. That is, she was good looking until she hit 50. Then her face melted. Sort of slid down a little, giving her jowls and eradicating her jawline. But she was Mom, ya' know? So I didn't think too much about it. After all, she was a heavy smoker, heavy drinker, had high blood pressure, weight fluctuations for years, and generally didn't do much to take care of herself. Mom passed a few years back at age 77 with deep smokers lines and three chins.



I expected that my lifetime of healthy eating and exercise would save me from that face (with a Hail Mary that my misspent years smoking would be forgiven.) It was not to be; every day for the past five years I look at myself in the mirror and see Mom. And not the handsome-before-50 Mom, the face-sliding Mom. And though I'm past the magic age of 50, I'm not that much past 50. Seven years ago (looooong before I turned 50) when I married I looked pretty good. Last month we had a formal photo taken and holy sh*t I look old! My husband, who is six years older than I am, is pretty much standing still age-wise. At this rate I'm starting to look like the older of the two of us, and I don't like it, not one little bit. I've been whining about this for long enough, and have decided that it's time to do something about. I'm going to have a mini-lift and get my eyelids fixed. I want back the face I had when I married.



I did all the research and solicited referrals from friends, narrowed it down to a charming, young surgeon in Tampa, and scheduled the procedure for Friday, February 5. I'll post all the before and after photos, and keep a detailed record of what happens. Does it hurt, and how much. What helps, what doesn't. How long before I'm public presentable. You know, all the stuff I wanted to know before I jumped into this with both feet. Stay tuned.