That's Life Magazine

Babs story of her body lift in Tunisia
April 29th 2010

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How marvellous is that?  Isn't it brilliant what they can do? Why would anyone not give it a go?

It cost £7,500 of my savings, but my God, it was worth it.  Even though I lay in pain forf our days, with my eyes stuck shut, and needing a catheter for when nature called, I had no regrets.

And just like childbirth, once I was through it, I simply forgot about it.  All I saw was a new figure that, like a baby, was worth any pain.

It was four days out of my life.  That's all.  And when I was able to stand up, I was delighted to see my feet for the first time in years.  'I wondered where you went,' I said.  
But there was a problem.  My giant stomach had also been shielding something very horrible from view — my thighs.

Suddenly I could see just how pendulous, lumpy and mis shapen they were.  They'd always caused me grief, rubbing together and chafing as I walked.

Now I know why, I thought.  But there was something even worse — a strange bulge over my pubic bone.

With a feeling of utter horror, I realised what it meant...that even my most intimate areas were revoltingly fat.

My newly taut, tucked tummy only emphasised this bulge.  When I wore trousers, I didn't look like a woman.

'It's got to go too,' I decided.

I was just days off the operating table, yet already contemplating another round of surgery.

So I began saving up all over again.  As I worked and scrimped, I developed a horrible groin infection.  It was because my huge thighs got so hot rubbing together.  It stung when I peed, and caused a nasty discharge.

I tell you this only to show how extreme weight-related problems can be, and how necessary it was for me to shed my fat by the quickest method possible.

Antibiotics cleared the infection, but after that I needed up to three baths a day, and had to carefully wipe inside every crease and fold of flesh.

Let me tell you, it was hardly sexy.  My confidence hit an all-time low when it came to our marital relations.  I took to wearing long T-shirts in bed to hide my big sweaty thighs.

Tony was still cross that I'd had the operation.  'No more — you've been through enough,' he said, gazing at the fading scars on my boobs.

But I barely even noticed them.

'You can't stop me,' I told him bluntly.  So again, he could do nothing but support me.

After three years, I'd saved another-£11,500 by doing extra shifts at the hospital.

This time Linda put me in touch with a French cosmetic surgery clinic, which was offering a pioneering operation in Tunisia.

It was called a lower body , lift, and I would be one of the first people ever to have it done.

Tony went white when I told him about it, but I wasnt scared.  I wanted it that badly.

My legs would be unpicked like the sleeves of a shirt, the fat taken out, then stitched up again nice and thin.

When I received a phone call to say I'd been accepted for the surgery, I was so happy.

A month later, I flew to Tunisia with Tony, who watched while I stood naked in front of the surgeon as he scribbled all over me in black pen to mark where to cut into me.

I wasn't embarrassed.  This man was an artist, though Tony didn't know where to look.

The operation went ahead.  I was cut open from knee to groin, my excess fat scooped and sucked out  Then I was stitched up again.  It took seven hours.

When I came round, I lifted up the blankets.  Through the light bandaging I could see two thick, brutal scars running like seams down my legs.

I look like a rag doll that's been hurriedly tacked together, I thought.  But I could also see I had skinny thighs!  And my man-bulge was gone too.

This operation reduced my weight by a further 21 pounds.  Now-l' weighed 16st3lb, which I hadn't been since my teens.

When I left hospital a week later, even Tony had to agree I looked fantastic.

Now I'm loving my new body.  I often dress up in a white thong and stockings to remind Tony what a good idea it was.

So now what do you make of my methods?  I've lost four stone by going under the knife.  I will never diet again.

Instead, I'm saving up for a facelift and to have my bingo wings lopped off.  Why be fat when a nip and tuck can make you gorgeous?  And why diet and work out when you can buy the body of your dreams?

Charlotte Sutton got it wrong and I pity her.  Mark my words — maintaining that skinny figure will be a millstone round her neck.

Babs, age 50, Wales

• For information on cosmetic surgery, visit lindabriggs.co.uk.

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