I Wanted Shapely Legs

Posted Friday, September 14, 2007 to PATIENT STORIES > Body

Posted by The Original Anti-Aging & Cosmetic Surgery Magazine

When Kerri-Anne Donald realized her legs looked more like her mother's every day, she turned to a cosmetic surgeon with a reputation for body-sculpting.

I decided to have some fat cells removed.

There's a photograph of my mother in her bathers which haunts me. Her 26-year-old legs were identical to my 26-year-old legs: long for her height, and both shapely and slim. I look now at her 62-yearold legs and wonder how on earth they could have transformed so dramatically. Over the years (I'm now 37) I've witnessed the transformation of my own legs in the direction of my dear old mum's and I wonder how I could ever expect that mine at 62 might be any different to hers... especially since she has always exercised more than I ever have. I decided to have some fat cells removed.

I told him: "My legs look like tree stumps."

I fronted at my surgeon of choice's office. He suggested I remove my clothes (except my underwear) and discreetly vacated the room while I did. I was standing anxiously near-naked before his full length mirror when he returned.

He asked what I wanted to change. I told him: "My legs look like tree stumps," and we spent some time talking about what was possible to achieve, and by what means. He talked like a sculptor who would gently mould my shape by taking away small amounts of fat from numerous sites -10 altogether, beginning with my ankles, then knees, then inner and outer thighs then hips. He comprehensively explained the procedure, the discomfort and the risks and dangers of the operation.

Now I had to break the news to my husband who, as a matter of course, disapproved of cosmetic surgery of any kind. predictably, he was most disapproving of my intentions.

The day of the procedure

I arrived at the hospital in exactly the same state I imagine all cosmetic surgery patients must be on the day of the procedure: nervous but extremely excited. Shortly after my arrival, the anesthetist ordered a pre-med, and it was while I was under its dreamy influence that the doctor came to draw upon my body (with marker pen) the places from which he would remove the fat.

Soon after I was wheeled to the operating room where I was given a light general anesthetic. It seemed only minutes later that I awoke back in my bed - wearing the surgical corset which would be my constant irritant for the next week.

Dazed from the anesthetic and a little sore, I slept the afternoon away until the doctor visited me again. He reassured me everything had gone according to plan, and he expected I would have a very good result. He had removed 1.6 liters of fat. The nurses had been instructed to administer pain-killers if I asked for them. The pain however was only slight, due largely to the fact some local anesthetic remains in the region where the liposuction is performed for some days afterwards.

If I remained still I felt no pain at all. But on the first day, getting up hurt a lot! By the afternoon however, I was able to leave the hospital on the arm of my reluctant husband, and each day afterwards the pain dramatically lessened.

I had changed the course of history!

The waist-to-ankle garment could only be removed once per day,to be washed and dried while I showered. Today was the first day after the procedure and the day for my first shower - an opportunity to sneak preview the results. I stood naked before the full length mirror and couldn't believe my eyes. Tiny amounts of fat had been removed from 10 places on my legs and hips, and it had completely changed the shape of my body! My legs had been transformed from short and stumpy looking to slender and shapely. Somehow, the new slender shape even made them look longer! I thought again about my mother's shape and realized the significance of what I'd done. I'd changed the course of history! I phoned my doctor on the mobile phone number he'd given me and thanked him profusely.

He was clearly pleased I was so happy. My husband however remained disapproving of the venture.

One week later

Back at work, I was concealing my waist-to-ankle elasticized undergarment with long, flowing pants which thankfully are fashionable now. No one could tell how unglamorous I looked underneath and it was work as usuaL.. except I began daydreaming about my new legs. I pictured myself running along tropical beaches and then stretching them out on deck chairs in luxury resorts all over the world! I imagined them climbing the stairs of private jets and gracefully gliding into the back seats of expensive cars... these new legs of mine were rich girls' legs (if there is such a thing!).

Two weeks later

Even with the swelling, which I was told could remain for some months, my ankles were much thinner than they had been before the surgery. The small amount of bruising had all but gone by now and I felt virtually no pain. Each morning and night I rubbed "Scarless Healer" (a preparation I'd purchased from a health food store) on each of the 10 tiny incision scars. I'd also enrolled in a course of 10 liposuction massages. The massages were a little painful, but I understood it was important to break down the fibrous tissue that can build in areas where liposuction is performed.

Goodbye to the unglamorous undergarment

At the end of the third week, I could shed the waist-to-ankle undergarment I'd had to wear every day since the operation. (It still had to be worn at night for another three weeks.) No prizes for guessing what I wore on that first day. A short skirt.

Shopping for a new body

It's hard for some to believe but I'd always hated shopping. It was torturous trying to find clothes that disguised my flaws. But I'd been doing it for such a long time, I knew instinctively what to try on and when not to bother. Now I was thrilled to be shopping for this new body - but out of 30 years of habit, I kept automatically excluding clothes on the basis of cut. I'd have to go back to the beginning of the rack and tell myself, you can wear that. Whole new worlds of fashion were opening up to me that day: hipsters, knee-length skirts, body-hugging beach dresses. It was a euphoric day - a kind of fashion emancipation euphoria. For years I'd watched other women express that freedom in their choice of clothes ... now it was my turn.

The disapproving husband

It had been six weeks since the surgery and I felt like I had a new life. Because I now genuinely liked my own body, probably for the first time in my life, I began taking more interest in it. To get fit, I began accompanying my husband on trips to the pool to do laps and early morning walks along the beach before work. We even joined a gym together.

One afternoon recently, as we made our way back to the car after a game of tennis, I asked him if he still disapproved of my liposculpture. He said: "I always loved your legs but yes, I can see they are now improved. But, the best thing is to see how incredibly happy you are with them. So I no longer disapprove."

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