Plastic-surgery 'vacations' in Mexico

By Christian Science Monitor

Every year tourists descend upon Guadalajara, often referred to as the most Mexican of Mexican cities, where mariachi music originated.

But first-time visitor Jennifer Guerra, from Houston, is in Guadalajara for one reason alone: "I'm getting a tummy tuck tomorrow," she says, nervously.

Indeed, Guadalajara, Mexico's second-biggest city, has become an "in" place for Americans such as Guerra seeking plastic surgery, fueled by word of mouth and the same cheap prices that have given rise to the growing phenomenon of medical tourism worldwide. Tour operators make planning for surgery south of the U.S. border as simple as booking a vacation.

"The number of those traveling (outside the U.S. for plastic surgery) has grown dramatically," says Tony Staffieri, the marketing and public-relations manager for the International Society of Aesthetic Plastic Surgery, or ISAPS. "Mexico is one of the fastest-growing markets in the world."

Guadalajara's proximity to tourist spots such as Puerto Vallarta and Lake Chapala, where one of the largest American retirement communities resides in Mexico, has helped boost its appeal as a place for Americans to seek plastic surgery.

Though ISAPS could not confirm the ratio, those in Guadalajara boast that the city has more certified plastic surgeons per capita than anywhere in Latin America outside Rio de Janeiro. Guadalajara also has a public hospital that gives poor people access to plastic surgery at discounted rates, says plastic surgeon Jose Guerrerosantos.

"We say that no one is unattractive in Guadalajara," jokes Martha Venegas, a resident. "There are poor people but no ugly ones."

Jose Amezcua spent his professional life in tourism before moving into the plastic-surgery industry six years ago. Today he is a driver for Air Lift, a North Carolina company that connects patients in Guadalajara with a surgeon, arranges a room and meals at a private home, and provides local transportation.

Door-to-door service

He picks them up from the airport, takes them to their initial appointments with the doctor and gives them a ride after surgery.

"The women are often nervous," he says.

When he arrives at her accommodations in Guadalajara, Guerra is sitting at the kitchen table. "I was always scared to go to Mexico," says Guerra, rattling off the botched jobs she's heard of. But Imelda Baldini, who provides the shelter for Air Lift, dotes over Guerra in her home. The mother of four grown children, she giggles over her own fussiness.

"My children are gone," explains Baldini, who serves her patients food in bed when they don't feel well. "I think about if I went to another country for surgery, I would want a parent there."

"She's better than a mom," says Guerra.

As it is for other types of medical tourism, to places as far away as India and Thailand, price is the driving factor in going abroad for care. Guerrerosantos, who is doing Guerra's surgery, says a tummy tuck that costs $4,000 in Mexico would be $15,000 in the U.S.

Beverly McCarter, who has been running Air Lift since 2001, says her company differs from other plastic-surgery operators because she doesn't market this as a holiday. "You see some of the companies on the Web and photos of women with margaritas in their hands," she says, scoffing. "This is serious."

Leaving the U.S. for health needs is not new, but as U.S. medical costs soar and insurance remains out of reach for many, and elective surgeries such as face-lifts become less taboo, organizations such as ISAPS are moving to issue guidelines on medical tourism and warn patients of risks.

Although ISAPS has members in many countries and does not endorse or condone medical tourism, Staffieri urges patients to consider the risks.

In some cases, tour operators are not legitimate and connect patients with unqualified doctors. In other cases, Staffieri says, patients run into problems if follow-up care is needed.

His organization is conducting a survey to get a better glimpse of who is going where, and for what. "Save money on soap powder," Staffieri says, "not on a new face."

Still, the trend is not expected to let up anytime soon. Guerra says a handful of friends back in Houston are curiously waiting in the wings -- to see how she comes home and whether they'll be the next to "book" a surgery.

It's no vacation. "I wasn't planning on sitting by a pool," she says. "But this is better."

This article was written and reported by Sara Miller Llana for The Christian Science Monitor.

Updated Sept. 2, 2008