As a plastic surgeon with 52 years of experience—47 of them in a board-certified practice—I’ve witnessed the growing trend of medical tourism for cosmetic surgery in the United States. If you’re reading this, you may well be a kindred spirit, perhaps a fellow plastic surgeon or someone intrigued by the complexities of wound care. My story, shaped by my role as Medical Director of The Wound VAC Company, a patient’s recent ordeal, and an article in the March/April 2025 issue of Essence magazine, underscores a critical issue: the perils of medical tourism and the need for better education within our communities.
The Essence piece highlighted the financial allure of cosmetic procedures abroad, a perspective echoed by Dr. Steven Williams, who urged diligence in choosing providers and facilities. While the savings can be tempting, the article didn’t fully address a harsh reality: surgical complications from these procedures often leave patients stranded. Most U.S. plastic surgeons, myself included, are reluctant to take on cases begun by others—a reluctance rooted in professional caution, not indifference. When complications arise, patients returning home often struggle to find care, a gap that can turn a cost-saving decision into a costly nightmare.
Take P.H., a former patient of mine. In April 2021, I performed her abdominoplasty without issue; her recovery was smooth. During follow-up, I advised that a lumbar lipectomy could enhance her results. Living in the DMV area, P.H. opted instead to travel to Miami for the procedure in February 2025, drawn by lower costs and without consulting me. The outcome was devastating: necrosis and dehiscence left her with a diamond-shaped wound on her lower back, measuring at least 2 cm per side and 2 cm deep. Her insurance, while robust, didn’t cover post-operative wound care for elective surgery. When she called me for help, her Miami surgeon suggested Negative Pressure Wound Therapy (NPWT)—a plan I agreed with after seeing photos—but getting her back to Miami wasn’t feasible.
Leveraging my position with The Wound VAC Company, I arranged NPWT supplies at no cost to P.H. A local plastic surgeon assessed the wound and applied the VAC, while a family member, a nurse familiar with NPWT, assisted with care. After at least nine dressing changes, P.H.’s wound began to heal. Remarkably, she later calculated that her total expenses—travel, surgery, and complications—matched what she would have paid to stay local. Her story is a stark reminder of medical tourism’s hidden risks.
Through this, I aim to caution patients and peers alike: the financial appeal of surgery abroad must be weighed against the potential for complications and the challenge of securing follow-up care. I also champion NPWT as a vital tool for managing such wounds—a solution I’ve seen work wonders. And, yes, I’ll admit a dual purpose: to introduce The Wound VAC Company as a resource for those in need. We in the profession must be as diligent in warning about medical tourism’s pitfalls as we are in promoting our expertise. P.H.’s journey is proof enough of that.