24 February 2011
366
R. Linda:
Well, ever since the 60th birthday party, me wife has been looking in the mirror. She's decided she's starting to look like her mother, and that isn't (in Tonya's book) a good thing. Well, if truth be known, it isn't for me either. The last thing I want, is to wake up one morning finding the Dragon in bed with me. Shudder the thought!
"Look, Gabe, look at this," she came at me with a finger full of skin she was stretching from under her chin, "a wattle!"
"A what? Tonya, really, you do not have a double chin."
"Not only DO I, but I have jowls growing. Look, look at this when I put the turtleneck up. Look what it does; not only does it push the fat out, but my ears too!"
So this was why she was wearing nothing but turtlenecks lately. Okay, I wanted to laugh, but you know appearance to a women is serious business. I took a look like I actually knew what I was looking for and shook me head. I just didn't see any of it. I thought that was the end, but no, no, I came home the other day to Tonya looking over our health insurance to see what it covers and what it does not. When asked what she was doing, she told me she had an appointment to see a plastic surgeon. Eee-yeah.
I tried, I did, to talk her out of this foolishness. Why does a 34-year-old woman need a plastic surgeon for (as she calls them) 'fat pockets' that aren't there? Well, there was no stopping her. The appointment was made and I decided I better go with her before she signed up for God knows what and I end up with someone I know, but has a different face!
The appointed day arrived. She was all set and HAPPY. I was sceptical and thinking what a waste of time and money this would be, because any good doctor could plainly see there was nothing to fix. Oi! So off we went to the big city of Nashua (I jest about the big city; Morristown, New Jersey, is a big city compared to what little quaint Nashua be). We get to the medical centre building, and we go to a posh office. Well, as posh as it can be by New England standards (no chrome and glass here, no more like shabby chic but pricey shabby chic). She is given papers to fill out while we wait. While she's doing that, I covertly check out the others waiting. No one was under forty but us.
One of the receptionists came to get Tonya for paperwork, leaving me for the moment. I noticed a woman looking at me, and I smiled. She commented that Tonya was a pretty girl. Had she had work done by the doctor before? No, I said, she hadn't; this was her first time in the office.
"Oh, I had my nose done. He did a very good job. I'm here for a post-op check."
"Me too!" Said another woman on the other side of the room. "Same thing. He did my nose, and I just love it."
"Well, can I add my two cents? Me too!" Said a third woman.
As I looked from one to the other, I noticed all three had the same nose! R. Linda, it was bizarre, I tell ya. They all looked similar. They could have been sisters. One had more than just the nose done, eyelid lift and another had ears pinned in addition to the nose. I was excluded from the conversation as they admired each other's "work." None seemed to see the resemblance. Oi!
I was called to go in. Tonya wanted me there for the consult, so I went to meet the Doctor. He seemed pretty plastic himself, not a line on the man's face (it was as smooth as a baby's behind). He had to be in his early 50s. You know what I mean, very smooth skin, but you know he's no spring chicken, so it looks odd. Coiffed hair (looking suspiciously like a hairpiece), the expensive and tailored suit, and the big white toothy smile, you get the picture. He was very personable and happy (well, wouldn't you be? Lots of money in his profession because many vain women and another bunch who (simply put) do NOT want to look like their mothers).
He looks at Ton's paperwork and says, "So, Mrs. O'Sullivan, you are here because you want your jowls and chin lifted."
"Yes," says Tonya as I close me eyes and shake me head, hoping he will tell her there is nothing to fix.
"Let's see what is what, shall we?" Says he. He sits her down, and under an extremely bright light with an attached magnifying glass, he goes over her face and neck, looking intensely at her skin. "Well, some jaw wrinkles are starting, um, hum, and your top lip is very thin compared to the bottom. Ohhh, the mouth is asymmetrical. That's why. A little Botox could fix that. Let's see, jowls, yesss, there is a preponderance of fat in the neck."
OH my God, let me see, I wanna see, where? WHERE? I wanted to shout and push him off his wheeled stool so I could sit there with that magnifier and take a look. But I couldn't very well do that, so I leaned over his shoulder, looking at all this. He put the magnifier to the side and told her he would take some pictures of the areas in question and could instantly project them on a screen so she, too, could see what he was talking about. Well, I thought, this should be interesting because, for the life of me, I didn't see what he was talking about.
Snap, snap, snap, snap, and we had pictures! He plugged the camera into a thingie on the counter and turned us toward a screen the size of a movie theatre cinema. There flashing on the screen were close-up pictures of the "problem areas" that, until today, Tonya was totally unaware she had! Her reaction was a quick intake of breath, as if she was experiencing heart failure. Later, she told me that seeing herself on that gigantic screen, with every blemish she ever had, was there for the world to see, and every fatty part of her face was hanging out. Well, she said she felt butt ugly for one and like shite for another. Oh my.
As the doctor took a moment to answer a question outside the room, I told Tonya that if any of us were blown up that BIG on a screen, well, every little flaw would show. That was the wrong thing to say. I found out almost immediately I had me head handed to me. "Flaws? You mean my big fat neck and jowls, Gabe? THOSE flaws?"
Before I could say anything in defence of myself, the doctor strolled back in and said we were ready to talk procedures, the risks of the different kinds of surgeries, recovery, and what that entails. Lastly, the good part is how much this will cost us. Oh, goody.
"You know, Mrs. O'Sullivan, we could do a dermabrasion on your acne scars."
WHAT? She, like all of us when teenagers, experienced pimples that evidently faded away. These you can't see without a magnifying glass, for God's sake. And you have to look hard to even see them. Even if you did, you'd not know what you were looking at but skin and pores. She didn't need dermabrasion, chemical peel or laser for THAT. If she did then every single one of us is in need!
"No, I cover that with my make-up," she stuttered, embarrassed.
"Now, Mrs O'Sullivan, we could do a complete facelift which is surgery, so hospital time, preparatory tests for blood and heart. Your recovery time, ummm, would be a minimum of 2 weeks. You'll need round-the-clock home care." And he looks at her and SMILES.
She is stunned but vain, "How will I look during that time? Will I see a difference?"
He laughed, yes, he did, "No, you'll be quite swollen, but as the swelling comes down within weeks, you'll see a visible difference, and makeup can cover any black and bluing." Big smile.
"Sooo, I'll be a mess for a while?"
"You could say that, yes." Another big smile.
And, of course, what I wanted to know was, "How much is the procedure?"
"$12,000."
Yup.
"And you really really think she needs a full facelift at the age of 34, do ya?" I asked. I was given a dirty look by Tonya, but he smiled at me and told me we weren't any of us getting any younger. Big smile and a guffaw. Right.
"And when will I notice a difference?"
"Oh, I should say within two to three months. And I would like to see you twice for this procedure should you choose it because we want to get all the fat out of there so you'll have a nice firm jawline." Bigger grin.
"The cost?" I asked meekly.
"$3,000 per session, so $6,000 total." Big wide wolfish grin.
"$6,000 for this fatso to undergo? Twice because of a lot of fat under my jaw. Ok." Tonya mused to herself.
R. Linda:
Well, ever since the 60th birthday party, me wife has been looking in the mirror. She's decided she's starting to look like her mother, and that isn't (in Tonya's book) a good thing. Well, if truth be known, it isn't for me either. The last thing I want, is to wake up one morning finding the Dragon in bed with me. Shudder the thought!
"Look, Gabe, look at this," she came at me with a finger full of skin she was stretching from under her chin, "a wattle!"
"A what? Tonya, really, you do not have a double chin."
"Not only DO I, but I have jowls growing. Look, look at this when I put the turtleneck up. Look what it does; not only does it push the fat out, but my ears too!"
So this was why she was wearing nothing but turtlenecks lately. Okay, I wanted to laugh, but you know appearance to a women is serious business. I took a look like I actually knew what I was looking for and shook me head. I just didn't see any of it. I thought that was the end, but no, no, I came home the other day to Tonya looking over our health insurance to see what it covers and what it does not. When asked what she was doing, she told me she had an appointment to see a plastic surgeon. Eee-yeah.
I tried, I did, to talk her out of this foolishness. Why does a 34-year-old woman need a plastic surgeon for (as she calls them) 'fat pockets' that aren't there? Well, there was no stopping her. The appointment was made and I decided I better go with her before she signed up for God knows what and I end up with someone I know, but has a different face!
The appointed day arrived. She was all set and HAPPY. I was sceptical and thinking what a waste of time and money this would be, because any good doctor could plainly see there was nothing to fix. Oi! So off we went to the big city of Nashua (I jest about the big city; Morristown, New Jersey, is a big city compared to what little quaint Nashua be). We get to the medical centre building, and we go to a posh office. Well, as posh as it can be by New England standards (no chrome and glass here, no more like shabby chic but pricey shabby chic). She is given papers to fill out while we wait. While she's doing that, I covertly check out the others waiting. No one was under forty but us.
One of the receptionists came to get Tonya for paperwork, leaving me for the moment. I noticed a woman looking at me, and I smiled. She commented that Tonya was a pretty girl. Had she had work done by the doctor before? No, I said, she hadn't; this was her first time in the office.
"Oh, I had my nose done. He did a very good job. I'm here for a post-op check."
"Me too!" Said another woman on the other side of the room. "Same thing. He did my nose, and I just love it."
"Well, can I add my two cents? Me too!" Said a third woman.
As I looked from one to the other, I noticed all three had the same nose! R. Linda, it was bizarre, I tell ya. They all looked similar. They could have been sisters. One had more than just the nose done, eyelid lift and another had ears pinned in addition to the nose. I was excluded from the conversation as they admired each other's "work." None seemed to see the resemblance. Oi!
I was called to go in. Tonya wanted me there for the consult, so I went to meet the Doctor. He seemed pretty plastic himself, not a line on the man's face (it was as smooth as a baby's behind). He had to be in his early 50s. You know what I mean, very smooth skin, but you know he's no spring chicken, so it looks odd. Coiffed hair (looking suspiciously like a hairpiece), the expensive and tailored suit, and the big white toothy smile, you get the picture. He was very personable and happy (well, wouldn't you be? Lots of money in his profession because many vain women and another bunch who (simply put) do NOT want to look like their mothers).
He looks at Ton's paperwork and says, "So, Mrs. O'Sullivan, you are here because you want your jowls and chin lifted."
"Yes," says Tonya as I close me eyes and shake me head, hoping he will tell her there is nothing to fix.
"Let's see what is what, shall we?" Says he. He sits her down, and under an extremely bright light with an attached magnifying glass, he goes over her face and neck, looking intensely at her skin. "Well, some jaw wrinkles are starting, um, hum, and your top lip is very thin compared to the bottom. Ohhh, the mouth is asymmetrical. That's why. A little Botox could fix that. Let's see, jowls, yesss, there is a preponderance of fat in the neck."
OH my God, let me see, I wanna see, where? WHERE? I wanted to shout and push him off his wheeled stool so I could sit there with that magnifier and take a look. But I couldn't very well do that, so I leaned over his shoulder, looking at all this. He put the magnifier to the side and told her he would take some pictures of the areas in question and could instantly project them on a screen so she, too, could see what he was talking about. Well, I thought, this should be interesting because, for the life of me, I didn't see what he was talking about.
Snap, snap, snap, snap, and we had pictures! He plugged the camera into a thingie on the counter and turned us toward a screen the size of a movie theatre cinema. There flashing on the screen were close-up pictures of the "problem areas" that, until today, Tonya was totally unaware she had! Her reaction was a quick intake of breath, as if she was experiencing heart failure. Later, she told me that seeing herself on that gigantic screen, with every blemish she ever had, was there for the world to see, and every fatty part of her face was hanging out. Well, she said she felt butt ugly for one and like shite for another. Oh my.
As the doctor took a moment to answer a question outside the room, I told Tonya that if any of us were blown up that BIG on a screen, well, every little flaw would show. That was the wrong thing to say. I found out almost immediately I had me head handed to me. "Flaws? You mean my big fat neck and jowls, Gabe? THOSE flaws?"
Before I could say anything in defence of myself, the doctor strolled back in and said we were ready to talk procedures, the risks of the different kinds of surgeries, recovery, and what that entails. Lastly, the good part is how much this will cost us. Oh, goody.
"You know, Mrs. O'Sullivan, we could do a dermabrasion on your acne scars."
WHAT? She, like all of us when teenagers, experienced pimples that evidently faded away. These you can't see without a magnifying glass, for God's sake. And you have to look hard to even see them. Even if you did, you'd not know what you were looking at but skin and pores. She didn't need dermabrasion, chemical peel or laser for THAT. If she did then every single one of us is in need!
"No, I cover that with my make-up," she stuttered, embarrassed.
"Now, Mrs O'Sullivan, we could do a complete facelift which is surgery, so hospital time, preparatory tests for blood and heart. Your recovery time, ummm, would be a minimum of 2 weeks. You'll need round-the-clock home care." And he looks at her and SMILES.
She is stunned but vain, "How will I look during that time? Will I see a difference?"
He laughed, yes, he did, "No, you'll be quite swollen, but as the swelling comes down within weeks, you'll see a visible difference, and makeup can cover any black and bluing." Big smile.
"Sooo, I'll be a mess for a while?"
"You could say that, yes." Another big smile.
And, of course, what I wanted to know was, "How much is the procedure?"
"$12,000."
Yup.
"And you really really think she needs a full facelift at the age of 34, do ya?" I asked. I was given a dirty look by Tonya, but he smiled at me and told me we weren't any of us getting any younger. Big smile and a guffaw. Right.
"Or, we could just to the neck and jowls, and we could use a moderately invasive technique called liposuction. Do you know about lipo?"
"Yes, yes I do," she said as if in a dream. "And would there be hospital time for that?"
"Well, with any surgery, you will need the prep tests done at the hospital. What I would do is make minuscule incisions behind both of your ears and under your chin. With the machine, we suck out the fat." SMILE.
"Uh, will you be able to see these incisions?" She asks apprehensively.
"Well, under the chin probably and just don't comb your hair back away from your ears. There are at least five days of recovery, but the good news is that, unlike a full surgical facelift, you'll be back to most of your routine in three days if everything is healing accordingly. You will need assistance at home, and you can't bend down because you might break blood vessels around the incisions, and that will cause more bruising, thus more recovery time." Bigger smile.
"Uh, so scars. Ok, and I'll look . . .?"
"You'll have some swelling and bruising for about two days, but it gradually lessens from the neck and the good news is no bruising around the jowls. But you must wear a constrictive bandage to keep everything from moving for at least 3 to 5 days."
"A mild mess," she mutters.
"And costs?" I pipe up since this be me area of concern.
"Oh, in the range of $5,500. The other alternative is laser therapy of your neck and jowls and it's the least invasive of the procedures. The operation lasts for 45 minutes, and in some patients, it is very painful, like a six on a scale of one to ten being the top of the pain scale. You'll be prescribed Percocet to ease any pain afterwards. What happens is the laser burns the fat cells, and after the procedure, there should be little to no pain and no recovery time. You can resume regular routine immediately." GRIN.
"Yes, yes I do," she said as if in a dream. "And would there be hospital time for that?"
"Well, with any surgery, you will need the prep tests done at the hospital. What I would do is make minuscule incisions behind both of your ears and under your chin. With the machine, we suck out the fat." SMILE.
"Uh, will you be able to see these incisions?" She asks apprehensively.
"Well, under the chin probably and just don't comb your hair back away from your ears. There are at least five days of recovery, but the good news is that, unlike a full surgical facelift, you'll be back to most of your routine in three days if everything is healing accordingly. You will need assistance at home, and you can't bend down because you might break blood vessels around the incisions, and that will cause more bruising, thus more recovery time." Bigger smile.
"Uh, so scars. Ok, and I'll look . . .?"
"You'll have some swelling and bruising for about two days, but it gradually lessens from the neck and the good news is no bruising around the jowls. But you must wear a constrictive bandage to keep everything from moving for at least 3 to 5 days."
"A mild mess," she mutters.
"And costs?" I pipe up since this be me area of concern.
"Oh, in the range of $5,500. The other alternative is laser therapy of your neck and jowls and it's the least invasive of the procedures. The operation lasts for 45 minutes, and in some patients, it is very painful, like a six on a scale of one to ten being the top of the pain scale. You'll be prescribed Percocet to ease any pain afterwards. What happens is the laser burns the fat cells, and after the procedure, there should be little to no pain and no recovery time. You can resume regular routine immediately." GRIN.
"And when will I notice a difference?"
"Oh, I should say within two to three months. And I would like to see you twice for this procedure should you choose it because we want to get all the fat out of there so you'll have a nice firm jawline." Bigger grin.
"The cost?" I asked meekly.
"$3,000 per session, so $6,000 total." Big wide wolfish grin.
"$6,000 for this fatso to undergo? Twice because of a lot of fat under my jaw. Ok." Tonya mused to herself.
So, after paying the $200 for the consult and destroying my wife's ego, we took off for home. She was sitting there talking to herself about lipo vs. laser.
"YOU ARE NOT SERIOUSLY considering this are you?" I said, totally floored.
"I dunno, it seems like a lot of money and recovery. That doesn't sound like an easy time, but you saw all that fat!"
"No, Tonya. I did not see all that fat. I don't know what you were looking at, or him either for that matter. I think instead of a plastic surgeon, you need an image therapist because I don't see any . . . what did you call it? Oh yeah, I did not see a wattle or massive jowls. Give me a break. I could understand this if you were 60 . . ." I trailed off. She wasn't listening.
"What was getting to me," she said softly, deep in thought, "was the minimum time. He made it sound like it could be much longer in recovery time."
I had noticed that as well, and every time I was going to ask him about it, the flashing of those huge white false teeth took me mind to dentists and full set caps and then bizarrely to sharks, yes, big, sharp, gnashing, money-hungry teeth.
"So what be the verdict on this Tonya?" I asked as we arrived home.
"I don't know yet, lots to digest and consider. After all, you don't want me to look like my mother, do you? So maybe a facelift and a nose job with dermabrasion and hairline re-sectioning might be the way to go." With that, she chuckled to herself, leaving me in open-mouthed horror, watching her go inside. I do not know if she's joking or not, and that's disturbing. Stay tuned.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
"YOU ARE NOT SERIOUSLY considering this are you?" I said, totally floored.
"I dunno, it seems like a lot of money and recovery. That doesn't sound like an easy time, but you saw all that fat!"
"No, Tonya. I did not see all that fat. I don't know what you were looking at, or him either for that matter. I think instead of a plastic surgeon, you need an image therapist because I don't see any . . . what did you call it? Oh yeah, I did not see a wattle or massive jowls. Give me a break. I could understand this if you were 60 . . ." I trailed off. She wasn't listening.
"What was getting to me," she said softly, deep in thought, "was the minimum time. He made it sound like it could be much longer in recovery time."
I had noticed that as well, and every time I was going to ask him about it, the flashing of those huge white false teeth took me mind to dentists and full set caps and then bizarrely to sharks, yes, big, sharp, gnashing, money-hungry teeth.
"So what be the verdict on this Tonya?" I asked as we arrived home.
"I don't know yet, lots to digest and consider. After all, you don't want me to look like my mother, do you? So maybe a facelift and a nose job with dermabrasion and hairline re-sectioning might be the way to go." With that, she chuckled to herself, leaving me in open-mouthed horror, watching her go inside. I do not know if she's joking or not, and that's disturbing. Stay tuned.
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
