The question: Do we age naturally and let it all go or do we ease our aging with cosmetic surgery? That’s a tough question because some of us do not age slowly with little changes here and there. Some of us hit it head on with results that look exactly like that---like we’ve been hit head on. The genes we have are the genes we get. Take a peek at older family members and be prepared to be horrified.
I broke my ankle a few years ago and it was taken care of following routine procedures. On follow up visits my doctor explained I might want a minor corrective surgery to fix a displacement issue that might cause limping. The pain of the ankle and recovery was so intense I couldn’t bear the thought of surgery and going through all that recovery. I was working full time then and was so happy to be back to normal. If I limped then I didn’t notice. I limp now however at certain times of the day. I am not considering surgery at this late date to correct the limp. My gate isn’t terribly weird looking but if I looked like the hunch back of Notre Dame perhaps I would request the corrective surgery. It’s all about degrees and what we can accept about ourselves.
My hair is gray now but it’s not a pretty white silvery gray. It’s mousy brown gray. It sticks up all over the place and resembles hair that grows in another region of the body. Coarse, weird, mousy brown hair. Oh, and a bizarre “curl” but it really doesn’t qualify as curls. I have (or had) straight hair so where did this “curl” come from? Judging from my inspection of relatives on my dad’s side of the family, whom I favor, it will stay that way. I’ve always been blond and I may go back to the coloring routine. Not only will the mousy brown be gone but coloring the hair also changes the texture of the hair. With blond it usually de-frizzes it. I’m holding off for a few months.
It’s not vanity entirely. It’s also difficulty dealing with the weird hair follicles that stick up and my stylist hates the texture so her cuts have been less than stylish. She now favors a little boy cut. It’s cute but I have NO hair.
I plaster it all down with goo in the mornings but by noon it starts sticking up again. She has adjusted the cut to enhance the strands so that it looks like it’s supposed to do that. I suppose I could just shampoo and head out the door and not give a damn. But I do give a damn.
My eyelids droop after noon. Countless people ask me if I’m “okay,” or “Oh, is something wrong,” etc. Even my family says “Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?” By early evening I look like I’ve attended a funeral. My friend’s husband had the same problem and he wasn’t even 50 and I’m 66. He still worked full time and felt his staff was thinking he was too tired, i.e. old, for the job. He also experienced discomfort and my lids have gotten so bad that I have to adjust my head to accommodate the droop when reading or cutting vegetables. That’s just dangerous. There’s a simple cosmetic procedure for it with subsequent pain and an ugly healing period but he looks his age now and feels so much better when reading and working.
Some of my friends with giant breasts now have genuine pain and discomfort as those things bounce around their knees. A few have had “lifts” and feel a thousand times better. Two friends had breast reduction surgery because they hated how people looked at them and no bra in the world concealed their mammoth size. Once they had the surgery they looked and felt great and one runs marathons now which she never could have with those things beating her up as she ran. She has permanent indentations on her shoulders from industrial strength bras.
I lost my teeth in a car accident and have a full denture on the top of my mouth. I suppose I could have done without but to what end? Would I ever get a job? A husband? A friend? Wouldn’t people wonder why I didn’t have teeth? Would I wear a sign saying “I lost my teeth in a car accident not from poor dental hygiene”? Interestingly, my insurance did not cover the denture because it’s considered cosmetic. Really? Teeth aren’t necessary for eating? I guess not.
To what extent can we accept ourselves with our without assistance from the drug store or the cosmetic surgeon? Do we have procedures done only when we feel discomfort? If so, some insurance companies will pay for that type of corrective surgery. My friend with the eye lift and friends with the breast lifts were happy to have had good news from their insurance companies.
What about the pain in our ego? Some egos are so fragile they can’t manage aging without procedures. Others don’t care. I am in the middle somewhere. I don’t care that I look older but I don’t like that people thinking I’m crying in the afternoons. I don’t think I could go shopping or out to lunch without my teeth. My breasts are small but even so have headed south so I’m wearing sports bras but years ago I was very thin and wore bras with inserts so that my clothes would look right. It’s impossible for a thin person with no breasts to buy a swimsuit.
As in all areas of life going to extremes in anything (alcohol, medications, inappropriate clothing as we age, hair color [red at 90?], cosmetic surgery) is a dilemma. A little nip and tuck if it makes the person feel better or corrects a discomfort is not bad. No worse than using foundation makeup, mascara, lipstick, wrinkle cream, hair gel, hair spray, hair color, wigs (my mom has a huge bald spot), support underwear, loose clothing, sensible shoes, nail polish, and the list goes on.
A person working in a corporate position in the golden years must wear a uniform of sorts. Proper clothing for a high level position is necessary for men and women of any age. We all have our values for aging. I don’t mind getting old and looking my age but I don’t want to look older or like some kind of witch from a Disney movie. When children start running and screaming when they come near me I will head to the surgeon that very day. Until then, just a little makeup and hair color and a support bra will take care of me. For now. I’m going to hold off on a face “do over” for a bit longer but I haven’t ruled it out. At the first encounter with a terror stricken screaming child as I walk down the street I’m taking out an equity loan.
[No part of this content may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author. Blog series began in March 2009.]
