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Monday, September 10,
2001
God, I’m nervous!
Is this the right decision? I’m not sure if I should go through
with this.
I arrive at the doctor’s
office five minutes prior to my appointment for my first treatment
of New-Fill (polylactic acid) injections. I’ve always hated
needles, and they want to stick them in my face? I don’t think
so! Well, I’m here, and I’ve already ordered the kit from
DAAIR. I can’t afford to waste $500. I had to take out a loan
against my life insurance to pay for the treatments, which
will run me about $3000 for four treatments, which includes
the price of two kits of New-Fill.
My plastic surgeon (I’ve
always wanted to say that), Dr. Kenneth Stein, puts me right
at ease. A very nice man with a superb bedside manner, he
tells me that while the results from my first treatment will
be instantaneous, they will pretty much fade after one week.
I’ll have some initial swelling, but that should be gone by
tomorrow.
Well, that doesn’t sound
so bad. Let’s see, $750 for my first treatment, seven days…“In
just seven days, I can make you a ma-a-a-a-an”…that’s about
one hundred dollars a day. The scariest part, at this point,
is, what if I like the results, I mean, really really like
them, and then it’s gone after seven days and I’m back to
my old face? How will that affect me psychologically? I’d
discussed this several times at length with my partner, Stephen,
who was concerned about that very issue. But I had to try
this, if I didn’t, I would never know. I was willing to take
the risk. I mean, I miss my old face.
Dr. Stein goes back to work
on his earlier patient, who is also getting a treatment of
New-Fill. I don’t hear any screaming or moaning coming from
the other room, so that’s a good sign. He comes back, takes
some pictures, you know, for before and after shots, and then
he draws on my face with a marker. He explains that the procedure
should only take about thirty minutes, I have my vitals taken,
then I’m given icepacks to place on my face for a few minutes,
to constrict the blood vessels and help keep the swelling
and bleeding (hey, nobody said anything about blood) to a
minimum. I’m supposed to hold them to my face as long as I
can, and pull away when it gets too cold. Have you ever eaten
something cold too fast, and you get that terrible headache?
Multiply that by about ten times and, well, you get the idea.
First he’ll numb my face,
and then he’s going to concentrate on four areas of each side
of my face, including the temples. He tells me that the lower
part of my jaw, around my mouth and lower lip (fill ‘em up,
doc, while you’re at it!) would probably be the most sensitive
(he was right). If the pain is too much, I’m supposed to tell
him, and he will administer more lidocaine, but too much and
I will be drooling for half the day.
I probably get around four
or five injections in each site, for a total of about 40-50
needle sticks. Since I am numbed up, mostly I just feel pressure
in the area of injection, but maybe 20 percent of the sticks
are uncomfortable, and about 5 percent really hurt. But only
for a few seconds. And keep in mind, I hate needles. I have
to look the other way when they draw my blood. You’d think
I’d be used to it by now, I’ve been doing it every few months
since 1989! So, I’m probably a little more sensitive than
your average Joe.
During the entire procedure
my doctor keeps reassuring me that I am doing really good,
and that it’s looking great. And then, all of a sudden, he’s
done!
“That’s it?” I hear
myself say aloud.
“Yes, that’s it, we’re
done,” he replies.
He wipes my face clean, sterilizes,
and then the moment of truth. He hands me a mirror.
“It looks great, don’t
you think?” asks Dr. Stein.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, It
looks great,” I lie. I smile. A misshapen, swollen, blotchy
face contorts back at me, and I hardly recognize that it’s
me. What the hell have have I done?
I step out of the exam room,
Steve says, “It looks great, honey.” I feel loopy, I walk
to the receptionist to pay my bill, first stopping in the
bathroom to get another look at the grotesque creature in
the mirror. As I try to smile at the receptionist, he remarks,
“It looks great!” I wish everyone would please stop saying
that…why are they all lying? I want my old face back.
As I walk out the door. I
turn to Steve and say, “Wait, I have to put on my sunglasses,
just like in the movies.” We joke, he takes me for a chocolate
malt at an ice cream shop in Lincoln Park. That helps. “I
think I want to go home,” I remark to Steve.
“I thought you were
going back to the office?” Like this, I think to myself? But
Steve encourages me to go, as originally planned, and I’m
glad I did. After about an hour I start to see how wonderful
the results really are. The blotchiness is gone, the raised
lumps have lowered, and although still a bit swollen, bruised,
and with a few needle marks, it looked pretty damn good.
Tuesday, September 11,
2001
It’s an unusually warm, sunny
September morning, and our two cats, Missy and Zach, are enjoying
the sun along with me on the breakfast porch as I sip my coffee
and catch up on Sunday’s Chicago Tribune. The phone rings.
Steve, calling from work. All I can utter is “No, no” in disbelief
as he recounts the events of the morning. It’s unreal. And
as I watch the twin towers collapse on television, the horror
unfolding before my eyes, the surreal images on the tube—it
helps put the previous day’s experience in perspective for
me. My concerns and fears about the treatment seem so trivial
now.
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End Results
My second treatment
in October seems to go a lot quicker, and while the pain isn’t
any less, there seems to be fewer injections. My biggest “problem
areas” are my temples (who knew?) and cheeks, so the remaining
treatments focus more on these areas.
While it is exciting to get
my face back, my old face, it is difficult to see it all go
away in a week. But with each successive treatment, there
is a cumulative effect, and the results last longer. At the
end of the fourth treatment, in December, Dr. Stein says,
“Now, when you come in for your next treatment, I want to
use a whole kit just on your cheeks.”
“My next…a whole…You
want me to come back for another treament? You think I should?”
I asked.
“I think it would help,”
he replied. And I knew he was right. With the results I have
seen, two kits, right in the cheeks, would be the icing on
the cake. But, I didn’t have another $1,000 budgeted. I finally
just got reimbursed from my FSA, money I had set aside from
my paycheck last year for unreimbursable medical expenses.
They didn’t want to give it back to me, my own money, because
it’s viewed as a “cosmetic procedure.” Yeah, about as cosmetic
as when my mother had reconstructive surgery after two radical
mastectomies. I’m hoping someday that these types of treatments
will be viewed as medically necessary and covered by health
insurance. Until then, there are some studies coming up soon,
and other treatments on the horizon. [See new-fill.com]
Would I do it all over again?
Yes, in a heartbeat. But here are some tips that might help
if you are considering facial injections:
• Make an informed
decision. Ask your doctor lots of questions, and don’t be
afraid if you think they sound stupid.
• Don’t expect miracles.
Do you own stock? Do you like to gamble? It’s a lot of money,
and the results aren’t guaranteed.
• Look at all the options,
discuss them thoroughly with your doctor, and choose one that’s
best for you and your budget.
• Get plenty of rest
before your treatments.
• Try stress-reducing
techniques, such as visualization and deep-breathing, before,
during and after the treatments.
• Take vitamin C. It
helps in the production of collagen.
• If possible, talk
to someone who has had the treatments and ask them about their
experience.
• Think about what
it will be like to have your old face for only a few days,
and then lose it all over again. Are you ready for that?
• Realize that you
may just be getting older. Those lines in your face make you
look distinguished, lend authority, and are attractive to
many people.
Jeff Berry is the Web Site,
Advertising and Distribution Manager at Test Positive Aware
Network. He first wrote about his lipodystrophy in the Nov/Dec
2000 issue of Positively Aware, “Who
Moved my Cheeks?”
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