I inherited my mom’s shapely legs. Every year I won the award for “Best Looking Legs” at the high school dance team’s gala. On its face that’s a superficial award. However, for a teenager who had spent the previous years wearing a variety of back braces and still required spine surgery for scoliosis, it was thrilling to recognize that there was something attractive about my scarred body.
When I was pregnant, I acquired another of my mom’s traits, but this one wasn’t so alluring. Purplish spider veins popped out on my legs, with a big clump located over my left knee. This area was tender to touch and I looked like Bill had been beating me in odd places.
“No worries,” said my ever-cheerful mother. “I have a doctor who can zap those suckers with a little saline and they’ll be gone!”
I resisted at first. Wasn’t I supposed to love my body as it is: big feet, tiny bosoms, fireplug nipples, scar from neck to crack, and battered looking legs? Shouldn’t I wear those veins proudly as pregnancy souvenirs?
“Are you high?” my mom asked. “I’m making you an appointment with Dr. P immediately.”
And she did, and I went, and after a couple of visits and the humiliation of wearing constrictive orthopedic pantyhose for a week or so, my spectacular legs had returned.
Over the last eight years, I’ve dealt with some serious shit– the hepatitis C treatment, the second spine surgery to correct problems caused by the first, my mother’s unexpected death. These events may be irrelevant. Maybe it’s just the passage of time that added veins and splotches on my face that drove me insane. There was one red blotch on the side of my nose that I covered with concealer every morning for years. I named it “Perpetu-Zit” although it wasn’t a zit at all.
Whatever the reason, the blemishes were bothering me enough that I booked an appointment with Dr. P and told him to take care of things. I may be less than a month from being forty, but I’d prefer to look thirty-five.
Dr. P lasered here and there and sure enough, the splotches, including Perpetu-Zit, disappeared. It’s cheered me up, plus I figure I’m saving a fortune on concealer.
You may consider me vain. Or not.
What would you do or refuse to do to your body? I’m particularly interested in knowing about your experiences with Lasik. As someone who’s worn glasses or contacts since the Bicentennial, I’m about ready for some peepers that work.