My workplace is in Shanghai. A hospital took pictures of my teeth, and another took full brain images. Today is the 12th day after my surgery. I was discharged this morning. You might wonder why I was discharged so late. Let me tell you the whole process.
I came to Beijing alone. I arrived at the hospital around 10 a.m. The director saw me and said that my cheekbones, lower jaw angles, and chin needed adjustment. I agreed with him on this. Then we discussed some details, and the director designed the plan for me. Since I didn't bring the films I took in Shanghai, the cosmetic hospital sent a driver to take me to get them taken (costing 410 yuan). Because it was a private cosmetic hospital, they didn't have film-taking machines. So, I went to two hospitals, which took about an hour. After I returned to the hospital, I bought a bottle of water and sat outside, calling a good friend. I said, "I may need surgery soon, and I'm a little nervous." My friend said, "It has to be done sooner or later. Just relax." Then, after drinking some water, I went upstairs. I showed the movie to the director, who drew some lines on my face and then told me to prepare for blood tests. At that moment, I was stunned. Was it really time to do the surgery? The director had already performed one surgery that morning. Would he be tired doing mine? I didn't know how I walked to the ward. The head nurse gave me a set of patient clothes, which were actually pajamas. After wearing them, I asked foolishly, "Should I take a shower?" The head nurse smiled, and then a small nurse led me to the operating room. When I entered, I saw several nurses busy working. Seeing their green uniforms, blue masks, and blue hats made my legs go weak. I wanted to retreat but ended up running aimlessly toward the door. I was dizzy and didn't know where to run. The nurse noticed and pulled me back, telling me to lie on the operating table. This scene I only saw on TV was now happening to me. I was really dizzy. Before, I heard others say that anesthesia is injected into the foot, so I asked the anesthetist, "Where do you plan to inject me?" That old man smiled and said, "In the arm." After the IV was administered, they injected the anesthesia. I was really afraid of pain, but since I was already on the operating table, my left hand was tied down, making escape impossible. I thought to myself, "For the sake of changing myself, this little pain doesn't count."
Later, the anesthetist asked me two questions: "Do you drink alcohol regularly?" I said sometimes when gathering, I might drink a little. He asked, "How much can you drink?" I replied, "At most a small bottle." After that, I knew nothing. When I woke up again, it was 8 p.m. I vaguely heard someone talking, wanting to open my eyes but couldn't. I wanted to tell the nurse and doctor that I was awake, but I couldn't speak or open my eyes. What should I do? Yes, my hands could move, so I kept wiggling my fingers. They finally noticed that I was awake. Later, I felt that my right eye could open, but my left eye still couldn't. I felt there was ointment in my eyes. My guess was correct. The doctor said that during the surgery, my eyes bled, so they applied some ointment. At that time, I didn't think much about it, but afterward, I was a bit scared - what if I went blind? However, at that moment, I really didn't think about it that way.
The nurse and doctor said that after the surgery, the throat would feel uncomfortable, as if something was stuck in it, causing nausea without being able to vomit. They told me to spit out whatever came up instead of swallowing it. I tried it, and sure enough, my throat felt terrible, like having phlegm stuck in it, unable to cough it out no matter how hard I tried. I spent the whole night trying to cough it out but failed, only spitting out a bit of blood. That small nurse took care of me all night, initially holding paper to my mouth to wipe what I spat out. Later in the night, when I could move, I did it myself. She worked the night shift and was very tired. I tried not to disturb her, letting her sleep a bit. The IV continued, and when she wasn't looking, I changed it myself. Although it was her duty, I still appreciated her very much. Later, we became good friends and often chatted together.
When dawn came, I could get out of bed and realized I had a catheter. I didn't feel it until it was removed. The head nurse told me it would hurt a bit, but I didn't feel anything. I wondered if the anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. But I could walk around, so I could use the bathroom myself. While lying in bed spacing out, a girl came in who had undergone lower jaw angle surgery. When she saw me with a compression bandage and blood around my mouth, she looked worried. Her consultant kept comforting her. I thought to myself, "You'll look the same after your surgery, humph!!" Later, the head nurse said, "Go sleep in another room; this girl will sleep here today." Initially, I stayed in a three-person room, but I was the only one there. After hearing this, I grabbed my small bag and moved to the next room. It was a double room, and lying inside watching TV was quite comfortable. Except for not being able to eat, everything else was fine.
Until the girl finished her surgery and was carried into the ward, I ran out to take a look. She was awake and kept covering her mouth with her hands. The doctors and nurses kept telling her not to cover her mouth, but she still did. Truly, she was an uncooperative child. However, I was curious why she woke up after the surgery while I didn't wake up for an hour. Could it be because I told the anesthetist that I drank alcohol, so they gave me more anesthesia? I've always been confused but haven't asked.
On the third day, another girl undergoing lower jaw angle surgery came. The previous girl moved in with me. I learned that the room we initially stayed in was for people who had just undergone surgery. It was larger, convenient for nurses to accompany, and easier to carry patients in.
On the fourth day, I finally didn't need an IV anymore and could drink soup through a straw. On the first day of eating, I drank porridge. After two days, I got tired of it and switched to soup. My roommate was starving and ordered noodles but couldn't eat them. He crushed them with a spoon and ate slowly. After half an hour, I saw he had eaten only a few strands of noodles. Other conditions were good except for eating, which was our biggest fear. We were hungry but couldn't chew food. Sometimes, we couldn't sleep due to hunger at midnight. We bought milk ourselves, but even drinking milk wasn't satisfying. That feeling was truly unbearable.
On the fifth day, I could remove the compression bandage. I actively found the director, who took me to the operating room. I wondered, "Do I need to come here just to remove a bandage?" As it turned out, after going there, they also put me on the operating table. I quickly asked the director what we were going to do. The director said I had accumulated fluid that needed to be drained. I was scared and immediately asked if they were going to inject me again. The director smiled and said they would give local anesthesia. Hearing this, I froze. Moreover, I hadn't eaten breakfast and needed glucose infusion. At that moment, I regretted being so proactive!!! Later, on the operating table, seeing the nurses busy around made me even more nervous and scared. Until the small iron piece opened my mouth, I realized I was going to be injected again. Local anesthesia inside the mouth was painful. Then, I found the director pinching my lower lip, and I screamed... "Ah... Ah..." The sound grew louder. The director got angry and said, "You're too disobedient!" I immediately said, "The anesthesia hasn't kicked in yet; you're trying to pinch me to death!" The director laughed. Later, I said, "Pinch me and see if I can feel it," and indeed, I couldn't. A surgical cloth covered my face, but I could still see. I didn't know what was moving around in my mouth. That tension was worse than giving me general anesthesia and letting me sleep through it. Later, I experienced the scariest thing, leaving me with psychological trauma. Something was pulled out of my mouth, resembling duck intestines in both color and shape. I asked the director, who said it was the hemostatic cotton strip placed during the surgery. That thing was so long. Even though I had anesthesia, it still hurt when pulling it out, and I kept groaning in pain, sweating profusely. Later, when stitching, I saw the small hook-like needle move around in my mouth twice, knowing the surgery was over. However, the director said to observe before letting me leave. When I stood up, I realized I was too tense, and my arms had cramped and couldn't move. The nurse massaged them for a long time before I could leave the operating room. After coming out, I told them, "I'll never eat duck intestines again in my life..." Everyone burst out laughing.
On the sixth and seventh days, the two girls had their bandages removed. Because I had accumulated fluid, I was ordered to wear the compression bandage for two more days. Watching others' bandages removed, I almost envied them. That thing on my head was tight, and I couldn't sleep well at night. On the seventh day, my bandage was removed, but I did it myself because I feared the director finding out that I had cut the compression bandage. Taking advantage of his distraction removing another girl's bandage, I flatteringly said, "Director, you're so busy. I'll do it myself to save time." Actually, I had cut it apart and feared he'd scold me. The director knew my trick but didn't say anything. After removing it, the elastic headband I wore was different from theirs because I also had cheekbone surgery. It squeezed all my features, making my nose area particularly uncomfortable. However, it was better than the previous days. On the eighth day, I couldn't bear it anymore and took it off, but I found that without it, the swollen areas swelled even more due to lack of restraint. So, I obediently put the mask back on. By the ninth day, I felt more comfortable without it. During these days, I also went downstairs to buy bread and other things, which helped sustain hunger. With a good mood and insomnia, I played games in the hospital. The hospital environment was great. I brought my own computer, but I found they had computers too. Everything was well-organized. As long as you bring someone along and some money (meals cost money), the hospital takes care of everything. It's like staying in a hotel, with someone cleaning your room daily. When free, I chatted with fellow patients and surfed the internet together. Those days were happy. Although we all looked like pig heads, no one mocked each other. We encouraged each other because we trusted the doctor who operated on us all. We believed we would become handsome in the future.
On the eleventh day, I had my stitches removed. It was slightly painful, but for someone like me who fears pain immensely, it was just a brief moment of pain. Back in the ward, the cleaning sister asked if I was in pain. I said it was okay because I had been asking every day if removing stitches hurt. When they said it didn't, I thought they were lying. Since my two roommates were discharged two days earlier due to fewer stitches, my roommate told me on the day she left that removing stitches was slightly painful, so I was scared. However, after removal, I really felt that the pain of removing stitches was less than the pain of anesthesia. That day was cold, and I flatteringly told the director, "Director, I don't want to leave. Can I stay one more day?" Surprisingly, the director let me stay, saying he would observe me for one more day. It didn't annoy me. What's there to observe? I shouldn't have joked with him. But staying is staying; who's afraid? Anyway, hospitalization is free, and the hospital was warmer than my home. Stay then. That day, I hid in the room reading novels all day. When the director left, he gave me a neck forehead band to wear, saying it could help compress in case of accumulated fluid. I asked, "What if there is accumulated fluid again?" The director said, "If there is, we'll need to inject and drain it." After hearing this, I begged him, "Please don't inject me. If there is, it's fine; I'm not afraid." Haha, I'm really afraid of injections.
On the twelfth day, the director came to see me before I even woke up. I came out in a small tank top, and the director said not to freeze. He cared about me, but I said, "I'm almost dying of heat. The hospital is great except for the heating problem. No matter what temperature I set, it becomes 30 degrees after a while." When walking around, I saw a boy who had undergone lower jaw angle surgery lying in the room spitting phlegm. Next door, a girl had just had liposuction. Chatting with her, I learned she had undergone lower jaw angle surgery a year ago here. It looked very natural, and she warned me about a few points to pay attention to. Because of beauty, we strangers came together, and it was a joyful experience. My hospital stay ended, and the driver sent me to the train station... Such a thoughtful hospital, a caring director, a kind head nurse and small nurse, a considerate cleaner, and other surgical assistants treated me well. These 12 days made me feel deeply moved and happy.
During this period, I saw the bones and outer plates that were cut off. My main surgeon's style is to retain angles, and I am very satisfied. Although V-shaped faces are popular now, trends aren't necessarily suitable for everyone. When older, those V-shaped faces seem less fortunate. Therefore, my doctor has great insight, kudos to him! Adorable Director Zhang, I really, really like you.
Since my camera is in Shanghai, I can't show you the photos. Currently, my face still looks a bit like a small bun, and my eyes look like a puppy's. After some time, I will upload pre-surgery and recovery photos for you to see, hoping to show you a beautiful small bun. My workplace is in Shanghai, my hometown is Tianjin, currently recovering in Tianjin, underwent surgery in Beijing. Cheekbone surgery costs 19,000 yuan, lower jaw angle surgery 21,800 yuan, autologous bone chin 5,000 yuan, titanium plate and screws 3,000 yuan, total price 47,000 yuan (I negotiated prices, received a free face mask worth 260 yuan, but bought a neck forehead band for 120 yuan myself). Here, I can't conveniently reveal the name of the hospital where I had surgery. I can only say it's a private cosmetic hospital. Although private, the technology is absolutely reliable. Just bring someone along, haha~ Dear ones, wait for my photos. If I have the chance to borrow a camera soon, I might upload them early.
Some sisters really want surgery but are afraid. For this, I can tell you: after the surgery, I didn't feel anything in my cheekbones, only a slight discomfort in the lower jaw angle. Other pain sensations were non-existent. Girls who fear shouldn't worry. Encountering skilled nurses makes it painless. The nurse who administered my IV didn't cause much pain at all. For beauty, I can completely ignore those minor pains. Looking forward to a different me and a different you. (Editor: Wang Yulian)