I was sitting out on my patio, enjoying the bright sun and my newspaper, when an advertisement in the North County Times caught my attention. It was a striking display ad by plastic surgeon Dr. Amir Moradi of Vista for lip enhancement.
If you look at my picture above, you'll notice that my face is not just deficient in that particular organ, it's devoid.
"Looks like God gave you all that extra tissue on your nose instead of your lips," my wife likes to say.
"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," I reply.
The subject of rhinoplasty has come up from time to time, but I've always had a phobia about any sort of surgery. Also, based on principle, I strongly object to the word "rhino" in rhinoplasty.
But that eye-catching lip ad made me curious. Perhaps there's no real surgery involved. If it's only a matter of injecting a fatty substance, and there was no actual cutting, it might be something to consider. Someone told me they can take tissue from another section of my body where the fat is excessive, and inject it into my lips, but where would they take it from?
"Probably your nose," my wife interrupts.
So I took a closer look at Dr. Moradi's lip augmentation ad.
"Natural or Luscious," it reads. "The choice is yours!"
And therein lies the dilemma. It's difficult enough to just make the decision whether to have such a procedure, but you also have to decide what kind of lips you want, and frankly that's what's been holding me back.
Each morning I get up, look in the mirror, and pose the same question: Natural or luscious?
I'm just not very good at making decisions. It took me a week just to decide whether to get a white iPad or the black.
I bought a white one, but two days later, exchanged it for the black. But you can't go back to a surgeon after getting, say, the natural lips and telling him you prefer luscious. I'm sure it doesn't work that way.
So I asked my wife. "Which procedure do you think I should have?"
"I'd go with the nose job," she replied.
"I'm not talking about my nose. I'm discussing my lips. Look at them, you can barely see them."
"Did you ever think the only reason you can't see them is because they're being overshadowed by that schnoz?"
"I think I have the perfect nose."
"And I do, too, Hon. I love you just the way you are. Every feature about you is flawless. Now come inside. You've been out here on the patio so long your nose is starting to blister."
"Why do you suppose my nose is always the first to get burnt?"
"You can't help that, dear. It's the one appendage that happens to be so much closer to the sun."
I'm calling the doctor in the morning.
Irv Erdos of Escondido is a freelance columnist. Contact him at IrvErdos@aol.com.
Source: http://www.nctimes.com/news/local/columnists/erdos/article_5017c9ef-7a66-563b-8390-81c7821dd43d.html
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