Adventures in Cosmetic Surgery, Epilogue

By the time I hit the  publish button for this posting, I will be almost 5 weeks post surgery.

Where to begin?

I spent the first night in Dr. B’s recovery suite, upstairs from his office. A beautiful apartment overlooking the water. The view is pointless. I spent most of my time with cold compresses over my eyes.

I am riding high from the drugs, but I am also buzzing on adrenaline. I did it! It’s over and I didn’t die! That was one of my concerns. It would be such a stupid reason to die. I imagine Paul and Christina being embarrassed. Hopefully, they would invent something more meaningful and dramatic.  Imagine you’re a friend at the memorial luncheon. (maybe I have thought about this a little too much). What on earth would you say? “Well at least she died doing what she loved?” I did find get well cards for cosmetic surgery (mostly breast implants). Hallmark should work on cards with the appropriate sentiment. And if I died, would Paul still have to pay for the surgery? You couldn’t have an open casket with people admiring my new face. I’m a mess! there are stitches hanging out of my eyelids and staples in my head.

A lovely retired nurse, Penny, is taking care of me. She keeps the cold compresses coming, fixes me food (all soft things) and, most importantly, monitors that pain medication. After the IV sedation wears off, there is pain. Not screaming torture pain, but way past uncomfortable. I have to sleep sitting up (for the next two weeks as well). This is impossible, even with the valium prescription. I spent the night channel surfing while tossing and turning.

In the morning, Paul arrives just as the nurse is removing the head bandages and the drain. Who knew I even had a drain.? A word about Paul. He finds gross things fascinating and never turns his head. (There was the time I sliced my thumb open on a mandoline. He watched the nurse stick a needle in the middle of my thumb and counted every stitch.) Watching Paul’s face as she pulled the drain out told me all I needed.

One of my concerns was getting home without anybody seeing me. While I had told many people, I did not put a flyer in the condominium elevator. I pulled up my hoodie and put on giant sunglasses. I looked like the Unabomber Wanted Sketch (sans mustache)!

Settling in at home (we had moved a recliner into the bedroom), Paul had been given his nurse/ care instruction from Penny: Ice 30 minutes on/ 30 minutes off except at night. Clean the stitches and staples three times a day. ANOTHER word about Paul: give this man a task and a schedule and only a Zombie Apocalypse might deter him. By Sunday I was calling him Nurse Ratched. But, he took excellent, excellent, EXCELLENT care of me. Even dashing to the health food store 5 minutes before it closed to pick up arnica, after the nurse said it might help with bruising. Come Monday morning, no longer taking the pain meds,  I sent him back to work. I heard him whistling on his way out the door.

MY OBSERVATIONS ABOUT RECOVERING:

-You WILL NOT be presentable two weeks after surgery. That is a common sales pitch, because people have to go back to work, etc. and if clients knew it really takes closer to four weeks  (and even then you will need A LOT of concealer) people might reconsider. Also, you are still exhausted.

-Don’t Google! I obsessively googled any and everything about my procedures. The inter-webs are a place of too much information, a good bit  of it wacky garbage. Stay away from the horror stories as well. It’s too late.

-It is an emotional roller coaster. As I saw things improving, I was thrilled. I also would be upset with the slow process. I went a little stir crazy. I had imagined a zen like time of reading and resting and writing. That did not happen. I had trouble sleeping. Every time I thought about writing I found it difficult to gather my thoughts and put them into words. Even my love of reading failed me as it took more concentration than I could muster.

I have  had an issue that is not resolved. Because I bruise easily (and deeply) I still have a bruised lump behind my chin. At first the area was full of fluid (which is fairly common) and Dr. B has stuck numerous needles in there for draining. The first time  he did this (a week after surgery) was excruciating. Again Paul was there to witness! I have been back every week for draining and last week a steroid injection. The irony of this being the very place I wanted fixed is not lost on me!  After surgery, recovery and thousands of dollars, I’m still feeling bad about my neck.

Remember the two-week promise? When things don’t go as planned the staff will remind you that full recovery will take up to a year and everyone heals differently. It becomes their mantra.

My goal has been to be completely honest about MY experience. With all the ups and downs of this process, I am pleased with what I see. I do believe that my bruised lump will disappear. Dr. B. has been professional and caring  and kind and I would choose him again. As with most things in life, time heals and I am sure that a year from now the issues I encountered will seem minor  and worth it when compared to the results.

I know what you are saying: “SHOW ME THE PHOTOS!” I am working with my IT team to get these photos posted And by team, I mean Robert, my daughter’s boyfriend.

I will update you on my progress, but it’s time to move on. Even for me, this self-absorption has gone on long enough.

NEXT TIME:  B.O.B Syndrome (Bitter Old Broad)  What are the symptoms and how to prevent and treat this joy sucking disease.