The Scalpel

It's been a hectic week around here. On Thursday WD had surgery on her nose. That involved a general anaesthetic and more than 2.5 hours in the theatre. Sitting outside in the waiting area I kept going over in my mind what I might have been able to do to stop her going ahead with this operation. It wasn't essential surgery although it will probably help with her snoring problem, the real reason she wanted this done was for cosmetic reasons. I have never really agreed with the concept of plastic surgery. The idea of having oneself cut open in the name of beauty, basically it completely terrifies me and as I sat there in the knowledge that some doctor was cutting into my beautiful daughter I felt nausea, fear, horror and most of all, powerlessness. I started thinking about her as a baby and the distinctive shape of her nostrils in a photo I have of her when she was eight days old. I felt like shedding a tear at the thought of her changing something almost so intrinsic about herself. How dare she try to tell me my beautiful baby isn't good enough? If you have seen my daughter I am sure that you would say that she did not need any surgery, that she looked just fine the way she was. I think the truth is that her obsession with her nose is purely 100% my fault. I have always been obsessed with my nose. My father had an absolute 'honker' and as from a very young age I was always told how much like him I was I was completely convinced that every time anyone looked at me the first thing that they would notice was my enormous proboscis. Now that I am post 40 I rarely ever think about my nose at all. I don't think it is particularly small but I don't think that anyone else notices it either. Still occasionally you will catch me looking at my profile in the mirror and wondering what I would look like without it. My daughter would have seen me doing this from a young age and when she announced that she was going to have this surgery done part of me understood. I was, after all, a teenager once too. I tried to talk her out of it though. Her father was mortified and furious at me for planting such a seed in the mind of our daughter. Still she is 18 now and the fact is that I was powerless to stop her. She booked the doctor, she booked the surgery...she went ahead and did it. I did, and am doing, what I always do. I am supporting and assisting her in her decision. I am driving her where she needs to go, buying every medicine and vitamin I can can't afford to aid healing and nursing her back to health to the best of my ability. I think she is shocked by how major the surgery really has been. I don't think she expected to feel as dreadful as she does and she really has been quite contrite. I suspect she won't be lining up for any more surgery any time soon anyway, at least I hope not! Today we are going back to see the doctor and having the stitches removed. I don't think the cast comes off today but along with WD I am impatient to see the results. Her nose definitely looks smaller even with the cast on so I am just crossing my fingers that it is straight and even underneath the bandage. If she needs any follow-up surgery I will be so disappointed, not only for her and the further pain and discomfort she would need to go through but also for me and for the extra stress and the extra time and money that would need to be spent on her. As it is WD promised us that she would fund this operation herself. Alas, she has had to 'borrow' the money from us at the 11th hour. I suspect I will never see this money again. Luckily she got the operation under medicare at a hugely reduced rate due to her breathing problem, but still... Next week WD starts a new job at a high end boutique in the city selling designer clothes. She will be working full-time for the first time in her life so I am looking forward to seeing how she copes with it. She also wants to keep her weekend niteclub bar job but I am doubtful that she can handle both. We will see. Assuming that WD heals quickly and perfectly this week I am due to drive out to my Mothers on friday and spend a week nursing her back to health after she has eye surgery on Wednesday. I never imagined myself as the nurse type before but I actually think I am quite good at it. Perhaps I should consider a career change? If people didn't actually die in hospitals, I would seriously consider it.