I have had cosmetic surgery. Contrary to what most people assume, it is not my breasts which I have had done (apparently I look like the sort who would do that; whatever that means) Nope these baps are my own! I have had a tummy tuck. I sport an almighty scar from one hip to the other and a brand new belly button. Do I mind the scar? No. Did it hurt? Of course. Would I do it again with hindsight? Absolutely. My reason for doing it? Vanity, self esteem, to fit into clothes more comfortably? All the above.
After my daughter was born I exercised like a maniac and ate the most depressing selection of health foods and within 3 months I was below my pre-pregnancy weight. “Show off” I can hear you say, it was 3 months of very hard work done at the lowest part of my life (suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and my so-called achievement did not make me look better, I looked haggard, grey and had about as much personality as a bowl of porridge!
I gave birth to my son 18 months later by cesarean section and found that without the depression to back it up, the exercising was not as frantic and although I had less to lose this time round, I took it at a healthy steady pace to get my figure back. Problem was though that the more I slimmed down, the more people asked if I was pregnant again, due to the classic baby sack skin I was left with as a result of the cesarean which would never go without surgery.
I made several appointments with Manchester Clinic, Transorm & met 2 Surgeons; I did some serious homework on both theirs and the hospitals credentials. When I was happy and confident with them I handed over £5,500 and nervously awaited the day when surgery would be performed.
I had some apprehension over the fact that even though I was in good health and a non-smoker, there was always the possibility of complications. I felt an enormous amount of guilt that I was not only spending a lot of money which as far as everyone else was concerned could be put to better use, but I was also risking myself at the expense of my children who could not care less if I had a jelly belly but would be devastated if Mummy went to Heaven because of it; this was not being over-dramatic as my surgeon had explained that this was the most high risk operation which they perform.
The day of the operation arrived and my Dad reluctantly took me to the hospital. I was asked to wait in the foyer with about six other women, the nurse eventually arrived and asked us to follow her upstairs. “That’s right Lynz, get on the conveyor belt” said my Dad a little too loudly, earning himself a murderous look from every female in the room, he might have been tactless but he was right on the money with the way us ladies were feeling.
In the short stay ward the girls and I all sneakily eyed each other, making bets with ourselves as to what surgery we think the others had come in for. Behind a curtain later that morning, a Surgeon arrived to draw with a marker pen on my tummy, followed by the Anesthetist who told me in monotone what to expect. A quick blood pressure check and I was wheeled into the operating theatre.
I awoke in my private room, calm and comfortable and in no pain at all… unless I tried to move. I decided that I would not drink much water as the thought of getting up to use the toilet was terrifying – good plan except for the fact that I had a drip pumping fluid into me anyway so I quickly abandoned that idea. The care from my nurses was excellent, as was the food. The first night that I was in I decided to watch Holby City and can you believe there was a storyline on about a woman who dies from complications due to a tummy tuck done abroad? The seriousness of my operation hit home yet again.
The results were excellent. I regained my confidence and am still pleased that I have done it but to anyone considering cosmetic surgery, I cannot express the importance of doing your research strongly enough. Take advice from your GP as well as the Aesthetic surgeon and do not be pressured by any person, trend or fashion. My biggest gripe was that the fashion for low slung trousers and short tops made it impossible for me to find anything to wear and blow me if the fashion just 6 months on isn’t high-waisted trousers and long tops. £5,500 could have bought me a whole new wardrobe and a holiday.
The hospital which performed my surgery was Transform, Greater Manchester, Although, Transform do have hospitals in London, Belfast & Scotland too.
- Note: This post has in no way been sponsored by Transform or any other Cosmetic Surgery practise but is a genuine account of my surgical procedure.
- First published in 2007 edition of Denbighshire Free Press.