***CAUTION! this post contains explicit photos that may not be suitable for children or adults with weak stomachs. read at your own risk.*** 

i feel like ass. hammered ass to be exact. and it’s all self inflicted. i’m sure you’re wondering why someone would intentionally subject themselves to feeling like hammered ass, so i guess i’ll tell you.

it all started with a picture. this picture, to be exact. there, do you see it? my neck. or what’s left of it.

i’m a pretty tiny person, but i guess when you have two kids and top out in hindenburg-like proportions twice in five years before shrinking back down to normal, something’s gotta give. and in my case, i just blew out my neck. 

plus this whole middle age thing has been bugging me, so i decided it’s finally time to start the renovation. when i broached the subject with my husband, i got this:

me: so i was thinking i’d like to have my neck, you know, fixed.

him: there’s nothing wrong with your neck.

me: yes, there is. it’s saggy and it makes me feel old.

him: how much is this going to cost me? (this is really the crux of the whole conversation)

me: not that much. it’s about $XXXX.

him: what??!! that’s ridiculous! there’s nothing wrong with your neck from what i can see. if you’re going to get some work done, you should get something done that at least i can get some benefit from…like your boobs.

me:   *crickets*  …well, THAT’S interesting because i wasn’t AWARE that there was anything WRONG with my boobs.

him: well, they could always be bigger. you know… pamela anderson. i’m just sayin’.

anyway, so after he came to, we agreed i could move forward with this.

i’ve never actually had any kind of cosmetic procedures done so i had no idea what to expect. the whole idea of being put under kinda scares me, so i was excited when i found a doc who would perform the procedure using local anesthesia. (here’s some foreshadowing. pay attention.) i’ve had the pleasure of popping out one child without the benefit of an epidural, and anyone who’s done that knows what hell is like. so i figured this would be a piece of cake.

so the day of the procedure, i go in early to be prepped. they give me two valium to “calm” my nerves and something else for nausea. awesome, i think. i immediately pass out fall asleep in the room. i wake up about an hour later thinking it was all over and realized they haven’t even gotten to me.

another hour passes and finally the doc comes in. at this point, the drugs are starting to wear off so i’m starting to get a little panicky but now he’s raring to go. first he gives me some shots in my face to numb me up. a LOT of shots.  then he starts doing some lipo under my chin. he is jabbing this long pointy needle looking thing under my chin which i can completely see (but not feel) and all i’m thinking is, great, he’s going to hit my jugular. he must have noticed i was about to lose consciousness.

doc: hmmmm…..ms. X? you’re looking a little pale. did you eat this morning?

me: no.

doc: you were supposed to eat. nurse, can you please bring ms. X a cookie and some sprite?

so i eat my snack like a good little girl, and then he goes back for phase two. i realize now, that i never really asked him EXACTLY what he was going to do to “tighten up” my neck but now i was at the point of no return. i’m not going to bore you with all the little details but let’s just say there was cutting and the smell of burning flesh, and pulling and tugging and sewing going on.  and then we were all done.

the first day or so i spent wrapped up in bandages and eating darvocet like jelly beans, and i had no desire to even look to see what was underneath the gauze. when i started to feel better, i decided to take a peek. i had several reactions all at once, including holy f*&k, wow, and gee…yellow is not such a good color for me.

i must have about 100 stitches around each ear and they are so tiny it’s amazing. my nurse informed me that as a resident, my doc’s nickname was “the human sewing machine.” effing sweet. the man is good. ladies, this is why you want a board-certified facial plastic surgeon. not some dermatologist who took a weekend class. if anyone wants his number, just email me.

but whoa!!! check out that neck! turkey waddle? gone. even my sister sessie, was *kind* enough to remark, “hey, i remember when you used to look like that!”

and now, i do again, hammered ass and all. thanks sis.

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