Menopause Present -- Facelift, Necklift and Fat Transfer at 53

I always knew I'd get a facelift some day. Always. I spent my whole life near beaches, and while salt water revives my soul, the blistering sun and sparse amounts of sunscreen used in my earlier years have really taken a toll on my skin texture and elasticity. So I knew it was just a matter of time.

I began researching three years ago but was not quite ready. But this fall I went ahead and booked my surgery for this week because I could think of no better way to congratulate and honor myself for having gone 12 months without a period--and for having not killed anyone during this hormonally wacky time. My facelift was my menopause present to myself.

I had to be at the surgical center at 6 a.m. to prep for surgery at 7 a.m. I was so nervous I hardly slept the night before. In preparation, I had begun taking arnica tablets and bromelain three days before my surgery. I was eating pretty healthfully and cut out all salt and sugar a week before surgery. I also had filled all my prescriptions days before so that I could take all my meds with me when I went in.

Husband was excited and nervous for me. He's such a trooper though and gave me nothing but 100% support throughout this process. In the month leading to my surgery, I questioned myself many times whether I should be doing this. Whether I should be spending the money. Whether I am too vain and should age more "gracefully." I even cried a little two nights before surgery. But Husband rallied me and said he supported whatever I wanted to do and then reminded me that I work hard and I deserve this as it's something I've always talked about having done. Having Husband's support really meant the world to me.

I took an Ativan and pressed an anti-nausea patch onto my inner ankle the night before. I was worried about the anesthesia because I had a bad reaction many years ago to it. So I was armed with the patch and anti-nausea drugs this time! When I got to the surgery center, the nurse brought me to my room and took my vitals and I signed a bunch of forms. I was giddy with excitement at that point. Then the doc came in and scribbled on my face. We went over the procedure again and then it was show time!

The last thing I remember was being in the SR and moving from my gurney onto the surgery table. It was lights out after that! Then the next memory I have is voices telling me how great everything went. I opened my eyes and Husband was smiling at me. He later said it was very emotional for him to see me all bandaged up, with bruises and swelling. He said it looked like I had been beaten up and it had a very emotional affect on him.

I went home that afternoon and slept for most of the hour drive. Husband had moved a recliner into the bedroom and that is where slept for the rest of the day and night.