Lifted, refreshed, oxygen-deficient

It's been about nine days since Facelift Day, and my habit of never getting through any major event without a hiccup or two was evident as always. Anesthetics do such an odd number on our memories and I was no exception, so hearing about the immediate post-surgical events from Rachel* was downright weird.

 I showed up for surgery as scheduled, and the doc amused me by literally marking up my face with a pen so we both could see which areas he would be "enhancing" - his words, not mine. Then his anesthesiologist knocked me out and he got to work. The surgery itself went as expected, but when it was time to wake me up, things went awry.

I ended up aspirating stomach acid and my oxygen level dived, and according to the OR nurse, I literally turned purple for about 30 seconds as my oxygen dropped to around 30%. This was fixed in less than a minute as I was still intubated, but then I went into full-scale attack mode.  The doctor had already called an ambulance so I could be admitted to a hospital for observation, and it had taken four staff members to hold me down and get me into an ambulance. The doctor said later "I had no idea you were so strong."

According to Rachel, who had shown up to drive me home but ended up heading to the hospital, the surgeon was so upset that he stayed in my hospital room for several hours after I was admitted. He told her that that in 20 years of practice and weekly surgeries, he hadn't seen this happen with anyone else.

The next morning I couldn't remember any of what had happened, and didn't even know where I was as I didn't have my glasses with me. Rachel showed up later to tell me that I had regained consciousess last night and correctly answered all of the usual questions nurses ask, even adding an amusing anti-Trump rant when asked who was President.

I ended up staying in the hospital for one additional night before Rachel took me to our doctor friend's house to recuperate for a few more days.

On the bright side, the surgery turned out really well and the stitches and staples are all out now, although I am still pretty bruised up.  

* See The Usual Suspects.

Wet but not particularly wild

After a week of rain - some of it pretty heavy - I have loaded up with mosquito repellent. I'm not able to sort out the back lawn which is badly overgrown and the local mosquitoes are having a field day and they have brought in a few legions of flies as well.  

I have eight days until the facelift and am frankly a bit nervous. One only has to Google "one day after facelift" photos to be horrified (or amused). The doctor did admit that patients leave the office post-surgery looking like a Q-tip.

Ian* has taken another job and escaped the hell known as LaGuardia Airport, after being told to his face that he was "too old" to be considered for any career advancement. He will not be in NYC any more, but in Buffalo, which doesn't seem to bother him much. 

* See The Usual Suspects.

No more retrogrades?

My first week of unemployment has been mostly enjoyable. I feel particularly fortunate to be living rent- and mortgage-free, although Ian* is still almost impossible to reach at times, and now I have plenty of time to declutter and sell things. I can't go find new work immediately as I still have the facelift fun scheduled during the first week of October.

If truth be told, I feel as if my luck is changing, although I don't believe in luck. After a year of searching, I finally found the dress I'd searched for in vain - much cheaper than I'd seen it on eBay. I just couldn't bite at paying $300.00 for it, but then I was snooping through my favorite consignment shop two days ago and found it for $70.00.   Although I rarely wear prints - if I deviate from solids, I go for tartans or a Robert Graham shirt - this was irresistible. I wonder what the colors are saying to me?

Even Pandora is in sync. Whenever I turn on my Soundtouch, it plays all the songs I like the most, including some that I haven't given the thumbs-up to.  I can't help but wonder if there's meaning in the fact that it chose Etta James' classic At Last. 

* See The Usual Suspects.

"Hey, don't take your coat off."

In case you're wondering, I was laid off earlier today. The mortgage industry is having a pretty bad year, although my now former-employer seemed to make strange choices when it came to picking out the folks they canned. Hint:  I was the only writer in Marketing, yet they retained all three designers and canned the better web designer.

While I wasn't the only one, I found it creepy that everyone I knew who was laid off were some of the oldest people in their department (if not the oldest).  Is it time to play Age Discrimination Lawsuit?

It wasn't that painless, except that my boss looked as if she were going to burst into tears for the entire 10 minutes of our chat, which was mostly the chubby HR guy explaining the usual mundane crap. And then several colleagues got sniffly as I packed up my desk stuff. These days I'm careful not to trash out my cube farm with excessive desk toys for this specific reason.

If truth be told, I'm not that bothered. I have so much to do before I depart Texas, and now I can get it done faster.

gravity loses ... for a while at least

As of last Friday, I have officially booked myself a face lift. It happens the first week of October. 

Even though I've been waiting forever to proceed with this, it was still odd to go to a doctor and not have an illness to discuss. For the first minute or two it was a bit embarrassing. But I like this doctor and he admitted to having some work done himself. Besides liking his portfolio of 'before and after' jaw lifts,  I liked his honesty. Even though I keep wanting to call him Dr Robert after the Beatles song, instead of his real name which is Roberts.

He did talk me into a brow lift as well, which got me off the fence about it. It makes a bigger overall difference than I first realized, as I have had this turkey neck obsession for decades. It will be nice to put on eye shadow that others can actually see and appreciate, in addition to people not making remarks that I look tired.

I've also decided that if I'm going to improve my facial features, I should improve the rest of me as well, so I'm taking fitness more seriously. I've even dragged my scales into the kitchen so I won't overeat. 

There has been a bit of navel gazing as well. I have finally admitted to myself that the main reason I've kept the extra weight around for so long is that I'm shit-scared of Long Term Relationships.  Since I don't have to actually look for this sort of relationship to stop being scared of the possibility, my fear is illogical. I can always say no.