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I Am All About The Face Transplants

zuzu

First the French woman, now this guy.

I’m not sure why I’m so fascinated by face transplants. Maybe because of all the things on my body that I’d like to change, my face is not one of them. I’m quite happy with my face, and I made damn sure when I had to have my deviated septum fixed, I’d get the same nose back (my surgeon assured me I had an “after” nose, and he wasn’t going to screw with it — I have a feeling that was one of the factors in convincing the insurance company to cover the procedure).

Basically, I see my face as my identity, and while I’m perfectly willing to change my identity in other ways (i.e., hair color or name change), there’s nothing quite as essential as your face. I used to work with a woman who’d been badly burned in an accident, and it was odd to me to see her older, pre-accident photos. Why? Because to me, her identity was the post-accident face, since that was the only way I’d ever known her. I’m sure that the post-accident face was one that the people who knew her pre-accident had a hard time adjusting to, because it wasn’t the same Laura they’d always known.

I’m sure piny could elaborate on what it’s like to change visible identities and what’s involved.

9 thoughts on I Am All About The Face Transplants

  2. I’m fascinated too. What a life changing thing, to have a terrible injury repaired so you can walk down the street and not have people gaping at you.

    I’d like to see this tried on horrifically burned persons. They have a difficult time and that’s probably more due to skin contractures than stares..

  3. You know, about a year ago, I attended a costume party with a bunch of friends. I didn’t tell anyone what my costume was before I arrived.

    I dressed as a mutual friend (everyone at the party knows him). this consisted of getting my hair cut much shorter than usual, using that awful aerosol hair dye to turn my hair and mirror universe style beard black, and walk around in a metallica shirt and kilt.

    not a single person didn’t know who I was supposed to be. conniptions abounded. it was truly highest comedy, at least that an inside joke can aspire to.

    now, I told you that story to get to my point (there was a point?). I’ve always felt Identity was far more fluid than that. I don’t think I need my face, or my body, to be me. I’d be quite content as one of those sci-fi cliche beings of pure energy.

    but then, I’m also crazy, so maybe my ideas of identity are less valuable.

  4. What gets me about it is the part where it’s a dead person’s face on your face. A DEAD PERSON’S FACE ON YOUR FACE.

  5. True, Anne, but someone who’s been injured in that way has in many cases already had a dead person’s skin on them–grafts, etc. And I’ve known a couple of heart transplant patients–a dead person’s heart in their chest!!!! I say give people every chance they can possibly have for a normal life.

  7. Okay, I’m freaked out that these pictures are in the news. Our local newspaper did a series (a series!) about a gal who was burned but now looks better thanks to a zillion surgeries. Articles, okay, but can we put little doors over the pictures so if queasy, not-interested-in-others-medical-procedures types don’t have to look? I only showed my kidney stone to hubby and the school secretary (she asked). Why do we need these pictures? Keep them in the medical journals.

  8. I have a hard time remembering what I look like, for some reason. Every time I see a picture of myself, I’m surprised at what it looks like. I do spend most of my time looking out from in here, instead of at myself. I think a face transplant would be a lot more difficult for the people who know me than it would be for me.

  9. When we were first dating my husband and I went as each other for Halloween. At the time I was way punk/goth and he was way hippie. He really went all out, with makeup and corset and stockings and little boots. All I had to wear was a t-shirt and one of his bandannas. But it totally worked, everyone immediately got it. People thought it hilarious to consider me as a hippie and him as a punk. I found it interesting how ingrained into people’s view of our identities things like clothing choice were, because when I thought of myself, I didn’t really think ‘corset’ and all that.

    But I also think the face transplant thing is cool. But then again I love to watch the medical shows on the discovery health channel, like “Pregnant for 46 years” and “Face Eating Tumor” and “Mermaid Baby” and the like. That’s probably reprehensible on some level, I realize.

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