Face(lift) Of An Angel

January 21, 2006

Berkeley, California

My feminist friends think I'm nuts but I had to do it. As a divorced woman well into my fifties, I needed a little "help" getting back into the dating game. After much agonizing, I decided to get a little cosmetic surgery. Nothing really major, just a face, brow, and breast lift. The only problem, I didn't have much money and local doctors quoted me over $15,000.00 for the procedures. Luckily, my cousin Jean knew of a friend's aunt who had a face lift done in Argentina for a fraction of what she would have paid in this country. It was exactly what I needed.

After several hours of research on the internet, I decided to use Dr. Angel Fuentes, as his web page was clearly the most professional. I called the number and he told me he could see me at his Buenos Aires office as soon as I could get there. I couldn't believe my good fortune - not only did he say he was the finest cosmetic surgeon in all the western hemisphere, but his price was a very reasonable $1,450.00 for everything! The fact he sounded like Ricky Ricardo on the phone pretty much sealed the deal and I was on my way to Argentina the next morning.

After arriving, I checked into the stately but worn El Conquistador Hotel. The next morning I took a cab to the Fuentes Medical Center. I have to admit I was a little disappointed by the facility, as it was basically a small stucco building that looked kind of like a house. A sign hanging from the porch read, "Centro Médico De Fuentes y Transmisión Reparación," which I think means "Fuentes Medical Transition Restoration Center." There were several cars on blocks parked in the dirt front yard, and the whole place was very un-medical-like except for the discarded bandages, etc. in the garbage cans next to the garage. Then it dawned on me - I was unfairly judging this place by elitist American standards! I suddenly felt ashamed and realized I needed to approach this whole thing with an open mind.

Inside, the waiting room was decorated like a living room which gave it a cozy and comfortable feel. When Dr. Fuentes came in and introduced himself, I knew I was in good hands. He was charming, professional, VERY handsome, and his insistence that I call him Angel put me totally at ease. After a brief examination, his assistant Juanita led me to the operating room which was very clean and even included a full kitchen. Once on the table, I was connected to an IV and fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke to Ricky Ricardo's reassuring voice telling me everything had gone well. Several hours later I was painfully transported by medical motorcycle back to my hotel, where for the next four days I convalesced. My recovery was painful but uneventful and the staff at the El Conquistador was great, outside of the fact someone took my credit cards, camera, and most of the painkillers Angel had prescribed for me.

I was so excited the day my bandages were to be removed! Juanita did the honors as Angel had been called away on an emergency. I guess my first clue that there was a problem was Juanita's stifled scream when the last gauze was removed from my face. Over her objections, I grabbed a nearby mirror and studied Angel's handiwork. Actually, I thought I looked pretty good except for a few minor things. First of all, I looked like I was really, really surprised, as my eyebrows were now in the middle of my forehead. Also, my mouth was pulled into a big grin due to the tightness of my skin, but I decided this made me look happy, and probably wasn't a bad thing.

What bothered me most was the symmetry of my breasts - I've never seen anyone's actually pointing at each other like mine. For some reason it reminded me of that machine you see in every old monster movie - the one with sparks flashing between two electrode thingies. I couldn't even look down for fear I'd see a buzzing arc of electricity jumping from nipple to nipple! When I asked Juanita about this, she was unable to reply in English, obviously suffering from a freak language block or something. But all in all, I looked a lot less wrinkled and had saved a small fortune, so I was happy.

After returning home, I managed to fix my eyebrows by simply shaving them off and drawing new ones where they belong. Also, thanks to a sneezing fit yesterday that blew about ten staples into the ceiling, my smile is not so extreme, at least on one side. Now I just look bemused and somewhat mysterious - something I think men will find attractive. I'm still trying to straighten my breasts, but a traction system of strings and fishing weights I wear at night seems to be helping.

Let the dating begin!

       

Comments

[Adolph from Cuba]

Did you check the where your navel is? I wonder where it had come to end up being, with that much skin stretching!!! :):):)

P. Moonbeam: It is about 4" under my right breast. I keep a bandaid over it and have a new navel tattooed in the correct area.

[ApopkaTom]

I had a vasectomy done on the kitchen table during half time of a football game. I put "the samples", in his mailbox in the morning on my way to work. It worked out great. He is a uroligist friend of mine. We met in Viet Nam.

[BillyBob]

Beware of that "PatC", fella, Ms. Moonbeam!

all that sweet talk and yet he want's to wisk you away to a "mobile home" !
Here in the midwest, we have a name for those things, "TORNADO MAGNETS"!

and you just KNOW that "one horse" is HIS!
galloping and giddayuping around all day on a saddle as hard as a brick...."lot's of babys" HAH! the old "family jewels" are probably the consistency of refried beans.

Check his i.s.p. #, I betcha "PatC" is from Brokeback Mountain!...if you get my drift

beside, I suspect that he's a r-e-p-u-b-l-i-c-a-n...

yer pal
BillyBob

[PatC]

Dear Miss Peace Moonbeam will you marry me?

Boy, Miss Moonbeam, I so regret leaving San Francisco because I'm not sure if you'd like living in my mobile home in this one-horse town in the middle of nowhere and the damn horse is an old mare with really bad breath, yellow teeth and a prolapsed something-or-the-other because she's been ridden too hard by the local rednecks. I'd give my eye-teeth (if they hadn't been replaced with cheap plastic ones when I was 15) just to be near you, my darling Miss Moonbeam.

I spent the whole of last night just reading your blog. I just couldn't get enough of it. Am I damned to spending the rest of my life in this internet limbo laughing till my ribs ache with longing for you? You torment me with your blissful understatements and double entendres till I am beside myself in a trembling ecstasy of sweaty delight.

I could spend the rest of my life reading about all the wonderful brave and adventurous things you have done - like travelling in a bus with Cindy Sheehan after a Mexican buffet, visiting Paris during the riots, doing peace protests and helping PETA to save minks and especially that sweetly intimate Christmas dinner with your family.

I don't know if I can live without you, my Moonbeam. You are my soul-mate, my kindred spirit. Every moment spent away from you is worse than watching Oprah when I have the flu. I'm not sure how long I can survive just reading your blog especially when you post naughty pictures of your braided armpit hair and unshaven legs.

I want to make babies with you - lots of babies who will all be as cute and chubby as Michael Moore or Ted Kennedy and grow up to be inspiring world leaders like John Kerry and Howard Dean. I know you are fifty something and I'm nearly sixty but, if lesbians can do it with turkey-basters, I'm sure we'll find a way. Peace Moonbeam, my dear heart, will you marry me?

[SeanS]

I love the picture from Young Frankenstein. It adds to the whole 'electrode' thing nicely.

LOL!

[BillyBob]

Dear Ms. Moonbeam

Had I known of your vain concern over a few wrinkles, I could have saved you a trip to Argentina, not to mention the $1450.

Here, in the midwest folks have been removing wrinkles, conditioning baseball mitts and restoring leather car interiors with a miracle product called "mink oil", for years.

I would offer you a source for this all natural, non-toxic elixir but our local mink rancher has closed shop due to a recent rash of burglaries and vandalism attacks and sold his land to a company called Haliburton, for an experimental open air toxic waste dump. It's endorsed by the government and savethecaves.org so I'm sure it will be wonderful.

I'm sure that you can find it (mink oil) on Google or Ebay though.

Peace, Peace

yer pal
BillyBob

p.s. very cool blog, keep it up.

[Mike's America]

Too funny... If anyone really did see an operating room on the kitchen table, I guess that would be a clue.