Well, yes, anytime you are put to sleep there is a risk you will not wake up. For a long time I was afraid to take that chance and carried these very large sagging breast around like I thought they were just the greatest ones in town but damn it I did get tried of the sheer weight of them. At 64 years old I bit the bullet and had them reduced. For the longest time afterwards I had to resist the urge to stop folks on the street and ask them, “Hey there you. would you like to see my “little bosom?” At 66 I am finding out that the smaller ones fall too. So would I do it again if I had known that? Yes, lord, yes! But the other day when an old friend told me “You are looking thinner, how did you loss so much weight?” I look her in the eye and said, “I haven’t lost weight.” It was only later that I remembered she didn’t know I had had my breast done, had not seen me since I had the breast reduction. Was it a risk worth taking, would I do if I knew all I know now? Oh, Yes.
Sex: When I went to college in America, my London family doctor prescribed the pill in case I ever found myself having sex. I grew entirely round, all breasts and thighs, swollen upper eyelids, and fat hands, thereby becoming immensely attractive only to the kind of man who had fantasies about mating with a doughnut. I went off the pill.
Beauty: When I was a fashion assistant at Glamour, all the editors were kept thin and wildly alert by a doctor whose middle name was Comet. When I could no longer fit into the sample sizes, I was sent to the Comet. He prescribed tiny blue pills and pink pills and yellow pills, along with a strict diet. Within two months I couldn’t wake up until I had swallowed a blue pill or fall asleep until I had swallowed a yellow one. I weighed 101 pounds, stopped menstruating and started having hallucinations, thereby becoming immensely attractive to the kind of man who had fantasies about androgynous psychic Chihuahuas, and perfectly useless to the rest of society. I went off the pills.
Health: A good Italian doctor prescribed sea water three times a day to balance my Electrolytes. It was very good stuff. Unfortunately the sea water was packaged in glass ampoules which had to be carefully broken at each end and poured into a tumbler of water. One time out of three I cut my fingers on the broken glass. Furthermore, as I carried the seawater with me everywhere, some people who saw the slender glass phials in my handbag were able to surmise, deduce, and finally be quite certain that I was addicted to a strange colorless substance. Within a year I was said to be a junkie. I went off the seawater.
Risks for the sake of a newspaper assignment, yes. For the sake of my children, yes. For pure foolishness, like going into a private Spanish bull ring with a fighting heifer, yes. For beauty, no. (Can’t imagine that the results would be thrilling enough to warrant the risk.)
7 years after having my last child i had my breast redone. I think its a very personal choice. Would I do it again?YESYESYES!!! I did it for myself only. After 3 kids it was just so uncomfortable. I just asked him to put them back where they belong. And he did such a great job, they don’t look fake, and very few people even know I had it done. Through out my life of course I tried diets, not really with any sucess. Last year I lost 35 lbs with the help of my dr., but made many life style and eating changes to do so, and am doing well keping it off. I love my healthier life and its brought my family much closer doing it together.
I just wish that women especially so those who work in the entertainment industry would not succumb to the peer and other pressures and give in to all the ubitquitous sucking tucking and cutting going on at a massive rate these daze. Even young actors on there 20’s these days are fooling around with Botox and getting all sorts of plastic procedures to enlarge breasts and the like. Just look at the reality shows based upon extreme makeovers ect. Growing old gracefully and naturally is no longer an option for these women. Instead they run around with their new swollen puffed up “fish lips”, and have their stretched so tight around there mouth and eyes in bad face lifts or they have these frozen expressionless faces as the new faddish in thing to do. Worse yet, they pay a king’s ransom to look like this and seem rather proud of the results. Do they think people don’t notice the before and after difference for the worse? Many a beautiful face has been permanently ruined by plastic surgery. There are plenty of botched jobs out there. Why take the risk if your ALREADY beautiful to start with? It seems poor self esteem and a lack of confidence plays a part as well as the pressure to remain forever young. There is no shame in growing old unaltered yet plastic surgery and botox parties are still keeping the (predominantly male) plastic surgeons very, very wealthy. This still seems like the in faddish thing to do. I find that such a tragic state of affairs that growing old naturally no longer seems a realistic option. I think those that got altered got sold a real bill of false goods. Not one of these procedures can successfully prevent or reverse aging permanently no matter what. Its bad enough having to get surgery if you really need it medically because of the pain involved and recovery involved but to do it just for sheer vanitys sake is revolting to me. I had my nose straightened for medical reasons only.
You have to reach WAYBACK to remember this song, but it
goes like this: “No, no, a thousand times no, I’d rather die
than say yes.” That’s the way I feel about botox, face lifts,
tummy tucks, breast implants, etc. I will finish my life with the hand I was dealt. Case in point: Has anyone seen
Priscilla Presley on Dancing with the Stars? A true beauty,
poor job from a doctor from Hell. Still, if she wasn’t there,
it wouldn’t have happened. Being in the public eye brings
tremendous pressure. As for myself, I consider myself truly
blessed - excellent health, for which I am truly grateful. Thank God and leave well enough alone. There is nothing wrong with growing old gracefully. I love this verse by Karle
Wilson Baker:
Let me grow lovely, growing old -
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees,
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?
Arlene, One of the saddest stories was Olivia Goldsmith author of “First Wives Club.” She’d had a bad divorce, lost lots of $, and then worked so hard to write and sell her book and turn her life around. Big success of course. At 54 she was having some face work done, was exhausted and barely over the flu and died in surgery. My understanding was that she was financially helping 35 family members and friends at the time. She was so prolific in her new career and had 30 years left at least. So I think if a person wants to do it at least minimize the risk by being in super health and investigate the doctor thoroughly.
Suzanne, that is really heartbreaking. Reading is my favorite pastime (outside of this website). I will definitely check her book out. If an individual does want to have surgery
done, checking the doctor’s background is key. Thanks for your input - I always enjoy
your posts.
I knew Carol Doda years ago in San Francisco (I worked for her accountant) and I was totally horrified by the way she was treated. It was like a vaccination. Men (and women) always talked to her chest. I don’t think they even knew what her face looked like. And Marilyn, of course, broke my heart.
Diets: At 15, I was 5’7”and 175 lbs. My mom was 5’ and 100 lbs. She complained that she couldn’t imagine how this “big, fat horse” (me) came out of her tiny body. Sent me to a Dr. who gave me an Rx for diet pills (later called “Red Devils”). I quickly got down to 135, married at 20 to a man who loved me primarily because I was pretty and had a great body. Got pregnant and had 3 babies in 4 yrs. My OB/GYN put me on diet pills with each pregnancy, warning me to not gain more than 2 pounds/month. In spite of the pills, I gained 30 pounds each time and had healthy (thank God) 9 pound babies. The rest of my life was spent chasing diet fads, taking pills, and yo-yo-ing up and down. Finally, at 55, I got rid of my husband and my weight stabilized to a normal (for me) 150.
Surgeries: When I was 50 I had my double chin removed - a familial feature inhereted from my tiny mother - and my saggy-baggy eye lids fixed. The best thing I ever did for myself. At 63 I had a tummy tuck to get rid of the bag of loose, sprung muscles I’d been dragging around for 40 yrs. from those 9 lb. babies. Another best thing I ever did for myself.
Now, at 70, I feel great, look good, and have no regrets about the surgeries.
After a really bad motercycle accident that ripped my foot off, I was luck and was able to have it re-attached by a marvelous Dr!! It didn’t look pretty though. When all the surgeries were almost over for the “keeping me walking” part I asked the Dr. if he could make sure it looked as good as it could scar wise. I was thinking of the future sandals and summer barefoot days and wanted to not have to answer questions about why my foot looked the way it did. If thats for beauty, then so be it. I’m grateful I can walk, but happy it looks good doing it also.
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Sex: When I went to college in America, my London family doctor prescribed the pill in case I ever found myself having sex. I grew entirely round, all breasts and thighs, swollen upper eyelids, and fat hands, thereby becoming immensely attractive only to the kind of man who had fantasies about mating with a doughnut. I went off the pill.
Beauty: When I was a fashion assistant at Glamour, all the editors were kept thin and wildly alert by a doctor whose middle name was Comet. When I could no longer fit into the sample sizes, I was sent to the Comet. He prescribed tiny blue pills and pink pills and yellow pills, along with a strict diet. Within two months I couldn’t wake up until I had swallowed a blue pill or fall asleep until I had swallowed a yellow one. I weighed 101 pounds, stopped menstruating and started having hallucinations, thereby becoming immensely attractive to the kind of man who had fantasies about androgynous psychic Chihuahuas, and perfectly useless to the rest of society. I went off the pills.
Health: A good Italian doctor prescribed sea water three times a day to balance my Electrolytes. It was very good stuff. Unfortunately the sea water was packaged in glass ampoules which had to be carefully broken at each end and poured into a tumbler of water. One time out of three I cut my fingers on the broken glass. Furthermore, as I carried the seawater with me everywhere, some people who saw the slender glass phials in my handbag were able to surmise, deduce, and finally be quite certain that I was addicted to a strange colorless substance. Within a year I was said to be a junkie. I went off the seawater.