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There is no loose skin any more; instead, my heart-shaped face has reappeared. I have been given just one cream, to use three times a day on the area around my mouth, my muzzle, to calm the redness from the dermaroller. I am given, too, a factor-50 sunscreen, which I must wear for life. You must look after my handiwork, is all Mr Karidis will say. 22 March - at last I feel a bit better i am now sitting up, and able to drink a fruit smoothie and swallow soup. The member of staff assigned to look after me makkelijk is tireless, bringing endless buckets of ice, and copious plates of pineapple, which is good for reducing swelling. Mr Karidis arrives in the afternoon to remove the stitches beneath my eyes. I can see, now, how women fall in love with their plastic surgeons. I look forward to his visits to check on my progress. Once the swelling has gone down, and we have given you the botox and the filler, you will be perfect! No man has ever called me that before.
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Everything Mr Karidis told me would happen has come to pass. He said I would hate myself, and hate him for doing this. It will be a roller-coaster ride, he said. And it will get worse before it gets better. The swelling will increase by day three before it starts to go down. 21 March - feeling even worse the berry swelling, despite the ice, has got worse. My face and ears are numb. I can feel stitches and a lot of dried blood inside my ears. Why has he made incisions inside my ears? I feel the back of my head, and find the stitches snake up through my hair. My eyes droop at the edges, and are lined with black thread. They are also curiously round, and my whole face is tinged with yellow from the bruising. I like the feel of my chin, though.
, and Im wheeled, wearing a face garment, a bit like a nuns habit, to reception. I must wear it continually for the first week to keep the swelling down, and then as often as I can over the next few weeks. As I climb into the cab, i can see the driver glance at me in his rear-view mirror, then look away, shocked. At the hotel, i am put to bed by jasmine with a list of instructions. I must hold ice packs to my face for 15 minutes of every hour. I must drink lots of water and take painkillers, plus arnica tablets to reduce the swelling. Because of my blurred vision, i cant read or watch. But Im too ill to care. The night is the second worst of my life: the pain in my head, coupled with the feeling of being stretched, is almost unbearable. I am only allowed to sleep on my back, propped up with pillows. I cant eat, because i cant open my mouth. I cant even insert a toothbrush.
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When i open my eyes, everything is blurry. I panic, but he explains this is because of the antibiotic cream in my eyes, and says I wont see clearly for three or four days. Do you want to look in a mirror? He asks, his nurse, jasmine, at his side, a young woman I will become pitifully attached to over the next few weeks. I try to yell, but I can hardly open my mouth, so tight is my skin stretched towards my ears. That afternoon, i am haarband due to be driven to the new Waldorf Astoria hotel in the grounds of syon house, west London, where Mr Karidis has treatment rooms in the kallima Spa for his nonsurgical offerings (fillers, botox, etc). I am to be visited by him and a nurse every day during my week-long recovery. If I had gone home which I cant, given that I have so many pets who will jump up, risking infection i would have had to have someone with me for the first three or four days as I was told to rest. People with young children are told to warn them first, in case they are terrified! I tell my nurse i cant get.
Ive told only one person: Nic, my assistant, who looks after my animals. I havent told my boyfriend, as I didnt want him to freak out and persuade me not to go through with it, which is the sort of thing men. From left: liz has to wear her supportive face garment as much as possible for the first few weeks; With the bandages finally off, lizs face looks swollen. Later never felt so awful, when I start to come round after two and a half hours of surgery, i am blind. My eyes have been bandaged and this, coupled with the fact Im almost deaf anyway, means Im a barely sentient blob in bandages. Someone takes my blood pressure so often I can soon no longer bear the pain in my arm, so instead they use a leg. Im nauseous, with a terrible headache, which no amount of drugs seems to alleviate. In the middle of the night I throw up all down my gown. Im changed, like a baby. This is the worst night of my life. I cant move, sit up or sleep. 20 March - bandages removed, mr Karidis arrives to remove my bandages and look at his handiwork.
I remember the surgeon telling me that I would never be able to breastfeed. Looking down at my poor sore chest, i hardly thought that would be a problem, given that Id never allow myself to be seen naked again. So, why do it again? I want another chance to face the world. I dye my hair, ive had veneers on my teeth, laser eye surgeryIm already practically lindsay wagner, the bionic Woman. Id love to look less miserable, to go out without make-up, and not scare the postman. As Im led down to the operating room at 4pm, Im fatalistic rather than scared. I sit on a bed, looking at the surgery list pinned to the wall. After two young men here for liposuction (really? Im last on the list. The nurse asks if there is anyone i want her to call when I come round, or if Im expecting visitors. God no, i say.
2018's Top skin & Neck tightening Creams reviewed!I may need more ipl a lot will depend on how my face heals, and whether I do as i am told, and avoid hot schoonheidsspecialiste baths, alcohol and the sun. 19 March - surgery day - is it too late for change my mind? On a sunny saturday morning, i sit in my room at the hospital of St John and St Elizabeth in London undergoing a battery of tests (an ecg to make sure i wont die of a heart attack, blood pressure, temperature) before i am put. Im incredibly nervous, especially when I sign the consent form and read all the things that can go wrong (permanently watering eyes, a lopsided face, infection, hair loss, death and i almost back out. Why am I going through surgery, with all its risks, when other people have real illnesses? Isnt having cosmetic surgery the most anti-feminist action I could possibly take? Ive had plastic surgery before. When I was 29, i had a breast reduction. I was ashamed of my breasts, which had grown because Id been force-fed hormones in a bid to cure my anorexia, which Id suffered from since i was. While the operation made me pleasingly flat-chested, it also left me with terrible scars, and misshapen nipples with no sensation.
He is brutally honest. His chief nurse tells me that he is one of the kussenhoes few top face men who turns women away, too. And so i agree to the following. A face-lift, which will involve incisions made behind my ears and up into my hair, then the skin house and underlying musculature pulled up and back, thus improving the hamster pouches by my mouth, and the turkey neck. A lower blepharoplasty, which involves an incision beneath my lower eyelashes, the excess under-eye fat being cut away and the skin tightened. He tells me i dont need a brow lift; instead, botox will be injected across my forehead, between my eyes, and also beside the outer corners where most of us have crows feet. To plump up the skin around my mouth, a dermaroller will be used to prick thousands of tiny holes into my skin while Im under general anaesthetic. A tiny sample of my blood is taken, then centrifuged to separate the serum blood cells and platelets. The platelet-rich portion is then extracted and injected back into the tiny holes, stimulating my skin (which thinks it is being assaulted, as it most definitely is) into making more collagen, the natural substance that keeps skin plump, and that thins as we age. The face-lift will soften the crevasses running from nose to mouth but not eradicate them entirely, so a synthetic filler will be injected once i have recovered from the operation. And finally Im to have one session of Intense pulsed Light (IPL) treatment to eradicate the red veins and sun damage on my face.
Liz jones gives a brutally honest account of her face - lift
I never look in mirrors or at photos of myself. Then, using my new laptop a few weeks ago, i must have clicked a button by mistake because suddenly there i was, looking back at myself on the webcam. I looked like captain Pugwash, with Michael Jacksons hair. Liz before (left) and after her cosmetic surgery. Just before the operation, Mr Karidis marks liz's face where the work will be done. That surprise webcam appearance prompted me to make an appointment with Mr Karidis to see if something could be done. He came highly recommended by a model friend in her 40s. I was convinced he would suggest a course of facials, maybe a chemical peel, but hadnt expected to be told I need a face-lift. Ive always looked after my face. I never sunbathe, i never laugh that much and I have never smoked, so i hadnt expected to get ultra crows feet around my eyes or a cats bottom pucker at my mouth. Now, as Mr Karidis examines my face with dispassion, i tell him I feel cheated that I need surgery because i always cleanse, tone and moisturise, using the most expensive unguents money can buy. His lack of interest in creams speaks volumes.
by polly dunbar) First consultation - feeling nervous. Hmmm, says Mr Alex Karidis, consultant plastic surgeon, the man responsible for the gravity- and age-defying faces of more stars than he can count, and who now has my face in his hands. The sagging, here and here, where the fat has slipped from your cheeks and become hamsterish, we could get rid of that. I would definitely do something about the crevasses below your eyes. Your forehead needs help, and we need to get rid of the saggy flesh beneath your chin, here. And he touches my turkey wobble. In his sunny clinic in St Johns wood, north London, he sits me in front of a gebruiken mirror as, placing his hands behind my ears, he lifts my 52-year-old flesh to show me what the finished effect might be if I surrender to his scalpel. Have a look, he says. No, i dont want. Ive never been fond of my face, not even when I was young and it hadnt oozed like lava down a slippery slope to disappointment. Aged five, i became obsessed about my flat profile, and sat at my desk in primary school in such a way that nobody could see me side-on.
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By liz jones, updated: 16:55 bst, you columnist liz jones, 52, has always hated the way she looks, particularly as she got older, so she decided to sailboat have a face-lift. Here she gives a brutally honest account of her cosmetic-surgery experience and reveals her new face in all its line-free glory. Before - march 2011, after - may 2011 - the total cost of liz's treatments which included a lower face-lift was 13,145. She has won legions of fans by writing with brutal honesty about the most personal aspects of her life, including her former husbands infidelities and her feelings of loneliness. Now mail on Sunday columnist liz. Jones has documented her decision to undergo a procedure many women contemplate as they grow older a full facelift. In typically unflinching style, she describes in this weeks you magazine every stage of the surgery to turn back the clock which, she says, has left her looking less exhausted and finally given her the face she deserves. Liz, 52, reveals the impressive results of the six different treatments she underwent, the most invasive of which was a lower facelift that involved neurologisch incisions being made behind her ears, and the skin and musculature of her face being pulled back to tighten her lower. She also underwent lower blepharoplasty, in which excess under-eye fat was cut away, botox treatment on her forehead and filler treatment to plump out the lines between her nose and mouth. Liz then underwent micro-needling, a procedure in which tiny holes were pricked into her skin and her own blood was injected to stimulate her skins rejuvenation. Finally, she had intense pulsed light (IPL) treatment on her cheeks and nose to eradicate red veins and sun damage. In her brave and often humorous step-by-step account of the process, she writes that she was persuaded to undergo the facelift after accidentally seeing herself on her computers webcam.