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Savannah Meier

English 111-181

Professor Intawiwat

October 25, 2017

Pop Culture as Social Critique

The Bloody Truth

Once I got to the hospital, I knew that I was really going through with it. I got out of the

Uber and ignored yet another call from my mother. This hospital was recommended to me by a

friend. She said that she got all of her plastic surgery done for really cheap, and I believed her;

first mistake. The entrance was bland, and there was trash scattered all around the front sidewalk.

I could see the rays of the morning sun in the reflective window panes (LIGHT 1) and my breath

in the crisp air. I pushed the heavy glass doors open to make my way into the lobby. I wandered

over to what I thought was the front desk and asked what floor plastics was on. It smelt of

antiseptic, floor cleaner, and dying people (smell). The nurse, Samantha according to her

nametag, sat up pin straight (BL 1) as if she didnt hear me and asked what I said again. I said

plastics and she looked at me with a face of concern mixed with sorrow and confusion (BL 2);

I knew exactly what she was thinking (EYES).

I was directed onto the third floor and checked myself in with some nurses. The nurse

assigned to me for the day was named Janet, she seemed relatively nice, definitely a mom. When

I got to my room, I was given a gown to change into. It was honestly the most horrid thing Ive
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ever seen. The cotton was rough, the pattern was ugly, and it was so unnecessarily long. I

changed in the bathroom that was attached to my room while Nurse Janet waited outside for me.

There was dirt lining the floors, handprints all over the mirror, and the light fixtures were usually

dim (LIGHT 2). I looked in the mirror at my ginormous nose and frail, vulnerable body (BL 3). I

was thinner than I had ever been before, almost all of my ribs were visible. My long-bleached

hair looked fried from curling or straightening it every single day. My face was caked in makeup,

consisting of foundation, concealer, powder, eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, bronzer, blush, and

highlight. My eyes were a crystal blue, and for a second I realized that I was a lot more beautiful

than I had ever thought before (BODY 1). I didnt want to surgically change my entire face

because I didnt like the shape of my nose (ASTRAY). I wondered what I would even look like

with different facial features. I began to mildly panic about the consequences I would receive

after this. Or did I even want to go through with it? What if something went wrong? I splashed

some water on my face to try and calm down, but it had a weird metal taste (taste). I pulled

myself together, tied the back of my gown, touched up my makeup, and walked back out into my

room.

Nurse Janet told me to lay down on the bed and started getting a tray ready. I instantly

got sweaty palms and crossed my legs out of nervousness (BL 4). I guess I never really

considered my fear of needles being a problem. She slowly sat down next to me and just grabbed

my hand. Its like she was playing mother for me, because I came alone. She asked me if there

was anyone she could call, and I told her no. She asked me how old I was, and I told her

eighteen. I could see the confusion and sorrow in her eyes. Janet let go of my hand and was

ready to poke me. She popped one of my veins, and began to give me an IV. I winced, but knew

it would only hurt more if I moved, so I tried to stay as still as possible (BL 5). Once she
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finished, Janet told me it would be a couple of hours before my surgeon came in to go over my

plan with me. I nodded, and she left.

I opened my phone and was instantly blinded by the brightness of my screen (LIGHT 3).

I scrolled through my favorite social media stars on Instagram and liked all of their photos (OBS

1). Everyone looked so perfect (OBS 2). Their teeth were white and straight, thin but curvy

figures, long legs, big boobs, luxurious hair, clear skin, insanely impressive makeup, pouty lips,

and perfect noses (OBS 3). Every time I looked at one of their photos, I just wanted exactly what

they had (OBS 4). Their lives looked so nice and easy and fun, and I wanted that more than

anything (CONTROL 1).

After about an hour of scrolling through Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Vsco, and

Tumblr, my eyes started to get weary and I decided to take a short nap. I closed my eyes and

couldnt fall asleep because the constant beeping of my monitors (sound). It also didnt help that

the light they gave off was blazing (LIGHT 4). I finally decided after about fifteen minutes of a

restless nap that I would do something else. I sat up in my bed and turned on the overhead lights,

only to end up burning my eyes again (LIGHT 5). I looked around the room and was even more

disappointed. I guess I never got a good look at it when I first walked in. There were these

hideous pinky salmon curtains, yellow and blue plaid chairs, and brown wallpaper that was

slowly ripping to shreds. The floor was black and white checkered, and the door was a dark

stained wood (sight). This might be the most revolting room Ive ever seen. Whoever was in

charge of the interior design here should be fired. I pulled my phone back out and decided to take

some before selfies. I went onto the camera and took about 20 photos. The flash was so bright,

but it made my eyes look even more blue and my teeth look whiter, which was basically the

point of putting it on flash in the first place (OBS 5).

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Around 9:30 a.m. my surgeon and Nurse Janet came in. His name was Dr. Daniel Harris.

His voice was raspy, and he sounded very confident when he spoke. He was tall and muscular,

had dark brown, almost black hair, very handsome face, and he wore a lab coat (BODY 2). He

looked like the kind of man who drives a sportscar, but doesnt tip the waitress at the restaurant.

He told me that the was the head of the plastics department and that I should have no worries

about this minor procedure. I sat up straight up in my bed and felt the sweat dripping down my

back (BL 6). Nurse Janet pulled up a digital chart of all of my information and read it aloud. She

said all of my allergies, which included amoxicillin, grass, and penicillin, and then they went

through my surgical plan. They told me where all of my incisions would be, and reassured me

that there would be little to no scarring. I pulled out my phone and showed them a photo of the

girl who had the nose I wanted (OBS 6). Her name was Alyssa Whitmore, and she was the queen

of social media (OBS 7). I envied her life more than anyone (OBS 8). Before Dr. Harris and

Nurse Janet left, they both asked me if I was sure I wanted to go through with the surgery. I

hesitated at first, but then told them to go ahead. After they were gone, I laid in my back down in

my bed and just waited. I didnt go on my phone, I didnt watch T.V., I just waited.

As I was waiting to be prepped for surgery, I overheard two people arguing in the

hallway. I wiggled around in my bed until I could see through the blinds, and it was Nurse Janet

and Dr. Harris. I tried to stay as still as possible, so I could hear what they were saying. I

overheard them talking about a procedure on a young patient. Nurse Janet was clearly against

doing the surgery on this patient because they were so young, and Dr. Harris said that he wanted

to go through with it because the patient already had given consent. They argued for a couple

minutes longer, and then mentioned that the patient had no family or friends with them. Were

they talking about me? They were totally talking about me! I dropped my mouth in astonishment
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(BL 7) right as Nurse Janet looked into my room window. I flung myself back onto my bed and

laid there, acting as if I hadnt heard anything at all (RANT). Next thing I know, Nurse Janet

opened the door with a frustrated, but dismal look on her face (BL 8).

I was given more medicine in my IV drip, and was told to try to relax. My body was so

stiff that I felt as if my all of my limbs had been glued to my torso (BL 9). My hair was put under

a cap as two other nurses came in to help Janet. The wheels on the bed were unlocked and they

started to push me down the hallway towards the operating room. I gripped onto the metal bars

surrounding the bed (BL 10). They were grimy and cold (touch), and I couldnt bring myself to

hold onto them for very long. I was pushed through two doors and into an OR. I was told to hop

on over to the surgical table. I could barely open my eyes due to the bright lights hanging over

me (LIGHT 6). My eyes finally adjusted, and I looked around the OR. There were probably

seven nurses, including Nurse Janet. I knew that this is what I had to do to be who I wanted to be

(OBS 9). Dr. Harris walked in, put on a gown and gloves, and then proceeded to walk over to my

side. He towered over me and told me that I was going to go to sleep now. The anesthesiologist

placed a mask over my face and I started to get sleepy.

I was a social media star. I got to travel around the world, date hot boys, take amazing

photos, and show the world how perfect my life was (OBS 10). I had the cutest dog, the whitest

teeth, best hair, great body, and everyone wanted to be like me (OBS 11). I was even paid by

companies to sponsor their products on my social media platforms; I was loving my life (OBS

12). This was everything I ever wished for (OBS 13). Everything seemed to fit into place

(DREAM). My vision started to get foggy and I got a major headache. I wasnt quite sure what

was going on. I tried opening my eyes and only saw bright light (LIGHT 7). I was greeted by
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Nurse Janet once I finally opened my eyes. I looked around and didnt recognize my

surroundings. Janet told me that I was in a recovery room. I nodded and dozed back off.

Once I finally woke up again, I was welcomed by a pounding headache and unnecessarily

intense lights (LIGHT 8). I looked around the room for someone to help me, but saw no one in

view. My lips were dry and chapped; I needed water. I saw a call button on the side table next to

me, but couldnt seem to move. My arms and legs felt so heavy (BL 11) as I tried to move them.

Once I finally reached the call button, I pressed it, and within about three minutes Nurse Janet

arrived. I asked for water and some medication. I could feel that my face was swollen, but I

didnt worry because that is a side effect of getting a nose job. After relaxing for about half an

hour, Dr. Harris came in. He told me that he would take the bandages off, so I could see my

nose. He warned me about the swelling and redness, and I told him to proceed.

He slowly removed the bandages to avoid discomfort, but it didnt really help. Once they

were off, I already felt like I could breathe so much better. He picked up a mirror and gave it to

me, so I could see my nose. I held it up with my clammy hands and was shocked by what I saw.

It was as if someone had cut a nose off another human being and attached it to my face; and not

in a good way. I was noticeably red and swollen, but that was to be expected. The part that didnt

make sense was the shape of the nose. It looked like it was three times too small for my face, the

bridge of my nose almost seemed more obvious, and the end part by my nostrils looked like a

little ball. I had a tiny, witchy bulb for a nose! My eyes immediately welded with tears because I

felt so confused, angry, disappointed, and regretful. I told Dr. Harris that I loved it, and he glided

out of the room (BL 12). Nurse Janet stuck around and didnt say a single word. She looked at

me with understanding and heartache (BL 13). She came to my side and grabbed my hand (BL

14). She leaned forward and kissed my forehead (KISS), and for a second I felt like everything
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was going to be ok. Janet left the room without even saying goodbye; it was clear that she was

just as upset as I was.

Eventually my IV was removed, I got to put my own clothes back on, carefully around

my head, and I got discharged. I walked out of the doors, put a hat on to block the sun (LIGHT

9), and kept my head down (BL 15). I just kept thinking about how dumb I felt getting this

procedure. I knew all of these girls on social media, Alyssa Whitmore included, had editing,

good lighting (LIGHT 10) and photoshop. I started to hate myself for what I had done to my

perfectly healthy, beautiful body (CONTROL 2). I was devastated and knew there was only one

thing I could do in this situation. I picked up my phone, dialed her number, and called my mom.