As a non cometic altering citizen my pervious notions of plastic surgeons where based off hit tv shows like Dr. 90210 and Extreme Makeover. Who's that guy on that bev hill show, with the hair... and the muscles, and the wife with the big fake boobs. They keep having kids. He does ty quan doe or something. And has the worst hair. Full circle there.
Gurley's spot is located off highway 40, you exit at timber manner court drivelanelakeway. Follow the outer road through a few stop lights and turn, err veer right, and follow the amusement park of parking lots to the last building. Over the past couple of visits, I've been watching the landscaping crew manicure the parking lot, dividers and mediums. Its developing quite nicely and rivals what i imagine Disney Land is rocking these days. Minus the mouse shaped box wood bushes.
I always check the building doctor directory for the floor button to push in the elevator. I know now its 3, but now it's habit, and I've been showing up with different people each visit so I like to take them through the discovery process I went through on my first, second, third visit.
Enter through sexy frosted glass door, allow man person who drove you to appointment to grab the curved steal rod that opens the heavy glass threshold. Andrea is at the front desk. She has a really fantastic attitude. I'd totally hire her. She juggles looking important and busy with being social and
not overly invasive but skillfully copacetic to whatever situation you have behind your eyes.
Visit one, I drove myself. My mom met me out there to talk one on one with DrJG. Visit two I came on my own. This was a pre-operation meeting with one of DrJG's nurses? assistants? I'm not sure what their titles are. So far I've met Suzie, and Colleen. Suzie's quote of the situation is "Dr. Gurley just makes the most beautiful nipples!" Can you imagine having a job where this is a statement you not only state several times a day, but also have absolute faith in the factorial purity of the declaration.
Colleen met with me to lay out the deal. She arrived with a Rubermaid container similar to the ones I organize my art supplies in sometimes, only hers was filled with drains, tubes, measurement cups, and pain pumps. She threw a lot of cards on the table. Like the drains. And the pain pump. And the fact that i'd have to actually look at my "breasts." Of all the things she explained to me about what would happen post operation, the single phrase that physcologically changed by fear approaching the situation was the fact that she continued to refer to the post-op scars being "My breasts." At the time, in my mind, my breasts were the ones i was carrying. These new these they were going to build certainly didn't belong to me. Or so i thought. The concept of having breasts made a big dent in the pre-surgery terror meter.
If you google mastectomy you find a lot of photos of lesbian women rocking their flat chested scars and pot bellies. Ok there is one specific one in my mind that came up too often, i think she had a salamander over her nipple. Her left breast was untouched. Her shirt was plaid.
My monday may 29th visit, i asked bw to drive me. We went to the office, then near my dad's west county apartment'd'viva. We drank a couple of New Castles at Harpo's. Which is across the street from Peach Hill, my dad's bachelor pad. Dave was on some sort of business conference call. So we had a few minutes to kill. I like it when I stick to a schedule, but occasionally the schedule allows you to stop and sit out side and enjoy a tasty beer with a good friend. After 3 NC's (combined) we cashed out and my dad rolled up in his SUV of the month. He dropped off a few bags of Vivianos': bread, salami, olive antipasto, cole slaw with red peppers. We do a grab and run and head over to Wildwood. I had intended to shoot a few more photos after lunch with the grandparents with this really heavy shot gun they had in the basement. Turns out my gpa paid like 65 dollars for it. Pound for pound, thats a damn good deal. But I forgot the flash card for the camera. Was totally bummed. BW and I headed back to the city, stopping at the bird mall to fix my refurbished ipod. This took a really long time. I am quite in awe of the patience exhibited by BW during this Apple store visit. I think if he hadn't have been there, i would have just left and fixed noting. Although it was quite fun for at least 30 minutes making a SIMs JT. We really got close to his exact description. I attempted to do some other people i know, but it occurred to me, that there is no one who's descriptive features I'm more familiar with than JT's. We get a lot of face to face time.
No comments:
Post a Comment