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Up and away: I sat on the plane on my way to that literally famous plastic surgeon in another state with mixed feelings. Would this doctor be a monster too? Would he be a horrible cruel pervert? Dr. "S" besieged by his court case had assured me that this surgeon was one of his best friends and that he was a good guy. I'd heard that line before and I was pretty scared. Dr. "S" also told me that his surgeon friend had been briefed on the fact that I was coming and this nearly terrified me. What bizarre things had Dr. "S" briefed this surgeon on? Would this be another twisted replay of Dr. "H"? Since Dr. "S's" referral was my last chance, there was nothing I could do but act brave and brace myself. Just be normal but somewhat invisible. Be a nice girl like I was in reality and then maybe this surgeon who was such a "good guy" wouldn't hurt me. The plane landed and I took a cab to the office and waited my turn to see Dr. "N." When my time came I was ushered back into the examining room by a lady assistant and there I continued to wait with mounting dread in my heart. As I sat in that examining room I began to feel the terror and hopelessness claw its way from the pit of my stomach into the middle of my throat. I just couldn't sit still, so I got up and walked around that little room carefully looking at things. There was a mirror in the room and I stood in front of it and peered at myself. I sure looked drastically different than I had at ages 16, 17 and 18! I was now 19 and about a 1/2 and I was once again a pretty girl. My skin had really healed itself! And I looked good on that day. There was still minor damage left to repair and I hoped that Dr. "N" would both be civilized and willing to do the work. I wanted to say GOODBYE to that awful sickness and the remnants of it on my face. I heard a tap on the door and I spun around and said, "Come in" in as cheerful and young a voice as I could muster. At the age of 19 I was still getting over being an old and bent haggard woman for almost three years prior. The door opened and Dr. "N" breezed in with a relaxed demeanor and a big smile on his face. Indeed Dr. "N" beamed pure happiness and it appeared good will too. He really was a nice guy! Dr. "N" examined my face gently and earnestly and then he said, "We can put a man on the moon but we can't fix this with surgery." However, Dr. "N" also said that I had a beautiful face and a good figure and that I should go home and make an appointment with his friend, Dr. "P." The damage might be able to be repaired with a chemical peel. Then Dr. "N" said that he was really glad that I was planning to get it fixed. He was totally sane, kind, professional and sincere! He even asked me if I'd be interested in modeling after I had the damage repaired because a top scale modeling agency was always contacting him to find out if he'd seen any girls with a certain look -- and I had that look! WOW! Well, before I got sick everyone except my family had always said that I should be a model. But not that I was finally well again I had other plans. I wanted my face repaired, but I also wanted to make it on my brains and hard work. I still didn't know how long my recovery would last and I wanted to do something important with whatever time I had left to be healthy! I flew back home elated and made an appointment to see Dr. "P" even though my dad was now seriously hedging on his willingness to pay for the repairs.
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