Walker Thornton’s monthly column “Talking Sex” reflects her current immobile state….
A Nip Here and a Tuck There
by Walker Thornton of A Woman’s Page
I’ve got two broken bones in my left foot as I write this; it’s been twenty days and I’ve got at least three more weeks of keeping all weight off that foot and another four-five weeks in this removable cast after that. So, I’m doing a lot of sitting around, contemplating my navel and trying not to think about my apparent clumsiness.
The other day, I was looking at myself in the mirror and thinking about how age is marching on. I’ll be 56 years old this week. I’ve discovered a bit of a sag and … “something” that looks like the beginning of a turkey neck…. on my neck. *Expletive deleted* I’m not surprised, but seeing the signs of aging gave me a bit of a start. You know it’s coming but you’re never quite ready when it does finally appear.
I dislike surgery and am grateful to find that my foot will not require surgery, though pending a recent MRI, that’s not a total guarantee. As I contemplated surgery, since I do like to do the ‘worst option’ bit, it seemed time to make a list of the top things I never, ever plan to have surgically altered.
My rear end: People get implants nowadays, plumping up and in some cases enhancing a flat rear end. Mine’s not flat and it’s full enough–but not so full that I think liposuction might be indicated.
A boob job: Mine are fine; they sag a little but that’s the proud reminder of breastfeeding two children and the hippie days when I chose to go braless. If I wanted a more pert bust line, I gather the doctor would simply, surgically, remove my nipples and move them up a little. No way. I’ll stick with my underwire bras.
My feet: I catered a party once where a woman, with both feet in casts, proudly announced that she had her flat feet reshaped to give them a nice arch! I know for a fact that being unable to walk, however temporary, is not an option.
Vaginal Reconstruction: From getting a labiaplasty to getting a “Box job” (a term made famous in The Godfather), there are now popular options for enhancing and re-invigorating one’s lower regions. I can’t possibly imagine why one would ever, ever, ever contemplate that kind of surgery. I’ll make do and add a few Kegels to my infrequent exercise routine.
Face Lifts: If I did succumb, how would I camouflage the aging in my hands? Or the liver spots (and whoever coined that phrase should have been shot), the advancing crepe-like skin on my neck and all the other signs that beckon a face lift? I don’t want a mouth like Julia Roberts, or that perpetually surprised, half-alien look that Joan Rivers sports. I want to try and accept, with grace, all the bits and pieces that come with aging.
But I have to admit that there is one part of my body that I think may end up being altered in some fashion. I have very droopy eyelids. In allergy season, the folds are excessive and puffy, giving me a distinctly non-Caucasian look. One day, like my mother, I anticipate that one or both of my lids will begin to partially obscure my vision. If that happens–all bets are off!
Edited to add, 4/5/2011:
Photo Credit: http://www.instablogsimages.com/images/2008/06/25/teen_sjAOC_8167.jpg
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