Personal nose quest
Now I've touched upon the Iranian's appetite for plastic surgery I feel a bit of background to my own would be useful. I want to share this as well because I have this nagging thought that people may somehow read this section and judge me to be vain. Not that we should be ashamed of a bit of vanity but I guess I just want to set the record straight. For me this wasn't a case of going to Iran, jumping on a trend that I saw and running with it. Iran was simply an opportunity, a container for something I'd already decided upon, namely to have my nose reshaped.
Growing up I never quite took to my nose. We weren't at war but we weren't allies either. I can't recall when ...view middle of the document...
What I was trying to achieve, if anything, is unclear. By spending excessive amounts of time inspecting my nose I was only adding to my dissatisfaction. As the years passed I didn't grow out of this phase possibly because my nose didn't grow out of it either. It just kept developing into a larger version of what I was averse to. The matter became increasingly pertinent during adolescence, the period when physical appearance heightens in importance. I recall constantly pestering my mum for a nose job and I wouldn't let the matter drop. Probably from her perspective she knew I was too young for surgery but took me to see the doctor anyway, probably to shut me up.
The doctor didn't seem to think there was too much wrong with my nose. I'm glad of this because in some respects I didn't think there was either which might sound a bit contradictory I realise. But this wasn't a case where I'd lost perspective on my nose. I don't believe I was suffering from a form of body dysmorphic disorder. From a comparative perspective I knew my nose wasn't up there in the disaster ranks but this didn't mean I was happy with it. In life we can be aware of how drastic or not drastic a situation is but it's how we feel about something that counts. Some people are more sensitive to others about their physical appearance. People are wired differently. One woman might be vigilant about how she looks when stepping out in the morning. Another woman might not care about her appearance but be adamant she drives a car with specific safety features. Had the doctor exclaimed my nose demanded special treatment because it was a particularly bad case that I was presenting then I probably would've walked out of that surgery more alarmed than when I entered. Luckily his response was of a more balanced nature. Maybe if I was older, consulting with a private doctor in a clinic that was not quite as diligent the response might have been different. The response may well have been that my nose was a horrific mess and that surgery was recommended, at a cost of course.
In regards to costs I was aware that decent rhinoplasty wasn't cheap. In my small little mind I wondered if I could get the operation done on the National Health Service. The doctor closed this down by telling me he doubted my case warranted a freebie on the public health service though he did acknowledge my personal dissatisfaction. His suggestion was I wait and have an operation privately. However he added I would have to wait a few years until I'd stopped growing. Apparently we don't stop fully growing until we're around twenty years old. He advised I should wait until then before considering surgery. This was too long for me but what could I do? The matter never went away for me and while growing up although it wasn't at the forefront of my mind it was always something I vowed I'd have done.
Not intentionally but in tune with this recommendation I ended up having nose surgery around the age the doctor suggested. This...