Spread Love and Compassion, not Blame and Hate...

I wasn't planning on taking this turn so quickly in this blog but something happened last night that made me so incredibly angry. I received a FB message from a woman I have never met who had never spent one moment of time with me and Max. Upon researching her, i realized she was closely tied to a family member of Max's and was a highly paid executive at a major company, a mother with children and a husband of her own.
Long story short, this horrible hateful woman made reference to a suicide note and in not so many words blamed me for my husband's choice to end his life and finished with calling me a mess. She even threatened to have me arrested.  Was this really happening? I responded that she was hateful and I was shocked that she would have so little compassion and respect for the recent widow of a deeply disturbed man that she didn't really even know. And I cried...and cried.

I am going to say that I am completely unapologetic for anything said in this blog. My feelings are my own and I will not apologize to anyone for speaking my truth. So the big question that everyone seems to think they are somehow privileged to know is "Did Max leave a note?"  I had been keeping this information close to my vest as I don't believe it's really anyone's business. But I am determined to remove any negativity from my life, including people that are nothing but cruel and toxic. And for all those who don't know me and are inserting themselves into my life and my marriage, you can now quietly exit with your hate because you will now know the truth.

Yes, Max did leave a note. In fact, I have several pages. Most are beautiful loving words of apology and devotion to me, expressing everything I'd wanted him to say for a very long time. He expressed how sorry he had been for hurting me with his words and actions and longed to be a better husband, lover, and friend to me. He told me that I was the most important thing in his life and that he loved me endlessly.  He expressed many sentiments that are mine alone that I will cherish forever.  The deepest intimacies between a husband and wife who loved each other immensely.

He also left what most would call a typical "suicide note". I never knew until yesterday that he also sent this page to his daughter, maybe his mother and who knows who else and that someone chose to share this with people who never knew us as a couple. People like the cruel woman mentioned above. This page did not paint me in a positive light. It was full of anger, bitterness, regret and in no way representative of the life and love we shared over the last 9 years. So completely contradictory of the initial few pages left for me. It shattered my world and gave me a close up view of the darkness of mental illness that took Max from this world. It convicted me of wrongdoings that were untrue and I had no chance to defend.  So it would seem the verdict stands to all those who only knew us from the outside looking in.

It's true that Max and I were at a crossroads. The final few months of our life together were chaotic and tense and riddled with confusion.  I felt myself distancing from him emotionally but i attributed it to his increase in drinking, his uncertainty at work and our financial problems. There were some very dark moments for us that I am not proud of the way we treated each other. I was desperately trying to find my way back to this man who was becoming a complete stranger to me.  What I did not realize was that I was witnessing the literal coming apart at the seams of a good man riddled with mental illness.  A man so troubled with such a distorted view of reality and an extremely dark tunnel vision leading him to take his own life. A life I know that he had tried to take at least once before over twenty years before he even met me. This was an illness that stemmed from circumstances completely unrelated to me. There is no such thing as "murder by suicide."

Even if what his final tortured note implied were true, would suicide be a rational response? The answer is no. People go through heartache and struggles so terrible and don't make the decision to end their own lives. A suicide note that contains hatred or blame only shows how deeply disturbed that person was at the specific moment in time it was written.  I read somewhere else something that resonated with me. It was that no one event, no one act, no one person causes suicide. There is emotional pain interacting with childhood trauma, genetic influences, addictions, distorted thoughts, coping skills all combining to form mental illness.

So there it is for all of you to know.  And it doesn't need to be a topic of question or conversation again. To those of you that have judged me, blamed me, been hateful toward me..may you never have to walk in my shoes and know the darkness of living with a loved one plagued by mental illness leading to suicide. Shame on you for ever imagining you knew anything of the great and beautiful love that we shared, of the laughter and tears we shared, of the quiet whisperings of our hopes, dreams and fears and the countless amazing moments we shared with family and friends. Do me a favor and do not darken my doorstep again. I feel sorry for you and for your children having to grow up with no grasp of kindness, compassion, or empathy.

For all of you, our beautiful friends and family, that knew Max and I as a couple, you know how much we cherished each other. Don't remember Max as the guy that took his life, although that's a fact. Remember Max for his accomplishments, his friendship, his charm, his loving nature. Remember us as we were..lovers in love, partners in crime, caregivers and soulmates meant for each other. I hope you'll speak up and testify to the beauty in us and the love that was evident.

For you Max, I will choose to cherish the beautiful parts of your last written correspondence to me. I know the rest was not the real you.  I will strive to not let that note define who we were and who I will become, as hard a task as that seems right now.I know how much you loved me and I know that you were confident in my love for you.  And I forgive you for I know you were lost and broken. I'm sorry I could not save you from yourself. May forgiveness and peace rest your troubled mind and erase the sadness, replacing it with love.

At least, it can feel that way. In reality, the suicide note captures the writer’s thoughts and feelings during only one moment in time, a moment that often is clouded by distorted thinking, mental illness, addiction, or other forces of suicide.

Read more at:

At least, it can feel that way. In reality, the suicide note captures the writer’s thoughts and feelings during only one moment in time, a moment that often is clouded by distorted thinking, mental illness, addiction, or other forces of suicide.

Read more at:

At least, it can feel that way. In reality, the suicide note captures the writer’s thoughts and feelings during only one moment in time, a moment that often is clouded by distorted thinking, mental illness, addiction, or other forces of suicide.

Read more at:

It's Been Awhile...Remembering Max Rose, my sweet love gone too soon....

So it's been years since I've written in this blog and the tears fall as I write now. On December 19, 2016 I lost my Max to suicide. It happened in our home while I was present and I watched him take his last breath after a self inflicted gunshot wound. He was gone in an instant, a shared life shattered and a sweet soul departed, forever altering the course of a life I thought had been mapped out. I was left with an emptiness I cannot begin to explain, a confusion, shock and even nonsensical guilt it seemed too much to bear. Throughout this blogging process, I will undoubtedly touch on many subjects, many emotions, and ponder many questions in hope of finding answers that make any sense or soothe my broken heart. This man I loved for almost 10 years was now gone, and nothing could have prepared me for this.  I hope as I retrace this journey, you will join me in the search for peace, the understanding of mental illness and depression and most importantly the celebration of an incredible husband, partner, friend and father.

I want to touch very quickly on the parts that leave me lost and terrified and confused, then move on to the wonderful things I remember about my vibrant, loving and charming husband.  The facts are that Max was fighting demons I hope none of us will ever know. His depression as I have been finding out since he left us  is something he had been battling all his life and sadly this is not the first time he had spoken of or attempted suicide. In fact, it was decades before I met him that this darkness began to surround him. I know that I was his compass in the past 10 years and had he not met me, this may have been a reality many years ago .  A mix of sadness and comfort surrounds this fact.

Another hard reality to face is that I am left alone with a pile of paperwork and debt, a looming bankruptcy, and an uncertain future. Any life insurance he had went to his daughter who he continually strove to support and nurture. Max was the primary breadwinner this past year after I/we suffered the emotional and financial loss of my fitness studio. Max did our taxes, provided our insurance, cooked wonderful meals for me, fixed the car, eased the clinical and chronic anxiety I suffer from with his love, advice and support. He had been my rock while i was trying to reinvent and "find myself" after losing my way professionally and emotionally. Through all this, he was dealing with such fierce demons of his own and I am amazed that we kept each other together as well as we did. The past few months were difficult. He was drinking more and had erratic mood swings that caused us to argue and distance ourselves from each other, sometimes being unkind.  Had i known the true nature of his depression, I think our story may have turned out differently. But those "what ifs" and signs I and others failed to recognize are for another blog session.

Max was my very best friend. I knew when i met him that he would impact me in a profound way but could never have guessed how important he would be. If you read posts from years ago in this blog, you will learn how he helped me navigate the mental and physical pain of breast cancer and a radical mastectomy. He was the closest most trusted love during those difficult days. I went on to shatter my left ankle(which I did not blog about because i was so lost in pain and sadness at the loss of physical and mental strength i had just regained after cancer). He stood by me through that which was not an easy task, I assure you. I remember him helping me bathe and washing my hair for me. Continuing to help me even when he felt helpless in doing so.

Forgive me because this first blog entry will be muddled before i begin to pick apart the process of sorting through thoughts and ideas one by one. I promise my thought process, however painful and awkward, will begin to shine through and hopefully serve to help others understand this all too unspoken and important topic.

Max was a young widower when i met him, leaving me at 45 the widow of a widower. Is that sad or ironic or just plain unfair?  Over the years, we helped heal each other and became each other's person. We found the same things funny, we liked the same foods, we watched the same shows, we both loved the beach and had dreams of retiring someday to warm ocean breezes and gentle climates outside our door. I have never laughed as much, loved as deeply, adventured so spontaneously with any other human on this earth. Those of you who knew us know the absolute joy we brought to each other. You would also know that Max was the life of the party. He was charming, vibrant, kind, a great cook, a strong and fierce hugger, funny, a good sport, an affectionate and intelligent soul. He was competitive and loved to tell jokes. He loved to drive, golf, cook, play games, take road trips, drink wine and whiskey, dance with me to our favorite songs. He made friends easily and was thoughtful to strangers. He loved our Cubs and his Broncos. He was not perfect as none of us are, but he was perfect for me in many ways.

Max helped me to overcome many insecurities after cancer and broken bones. He helped me to rediscover my mental, physical and emotional strength by supporting me in moving to Nashville and opening my fitness studio, now sold, but a key factor in the nurturing and healing of my broken soul. Which sadly is broken once again.

There were certainly dark days with Max, days i probably never fully understood until now or i may never understand. And I will try to navigate through those throughout this process. But the good times outweighed the bad by a million and i would not trade a laugh, a smile, a shared adventure with Max even if it meant this pain and emptiness I feel now could be erased. For now, I will continue to hear his car outside, hear the sound of him at the door, the sound of his snores as he slept beside me for so many years. I will feel his kiss on my lips, his hand in mine and hear his distinct laugh. I am broken. I am sad. I am angry. I am confused. I often lack the motivation to even get out of bed. The millions of memories and pictures i have of us both comfort and haunt me. I am afraid the vision of his last moments will be something I will never recover from.

But know one thing. No matter what darkness and doubt may surround future posts, I loved you Max. I love you still. I am thankful for the years we shared, for your love, your smile, your magnetic personality and your sweet sweet one of a kind love. I hope you know the depth of my love for you and the depth of the love of so many others. I pray you are at peace and I pray that through this process that I and those who loved you can find peace.  Feel my love wrap around you like a blanket and feel my kiss on your lips, wherever you are. There is a place in my heart that will forever belong to you. And an emptiness that seems impossible to fill. Find me in this brokenness, fill me with your love, help me understand your decision and forgive you for leaving me. As you helped me in life, help me now to find peace through this process. May the words of Michael Franti and our song bring you joy and soothe you now as they soothed us together so many times. In my mind, we are dancing around our living room once again. "Life is better with you."

Warriors in Pink--GAG!

   I'm very happy that today is the last day of October.  If one more sales clerk asks me to donate a dollar to breast cancer research, I'm going to scream.  A lot of the salespeople phrase the question as :Would you like to donate a dollar to breast cancer?"  As in the perpetuation of...seriously??  Haven't I donated enough?  You got my boobs, cancer and now you have the nerve to ask for a dollar.  I really am disgusted by all the companies who spend millions of dollars on pink ribbons and packaging and marketing campaigns.  Because what really is the goal here?  To donate to cancer research or to get more people to buy your stupid product by exploiting what is actually a very physically and emotionally debilitating disease for 1 out of 8 women in their lifetimes.  Why don't those companies just write a big fat check to the charitable organization instead of and in the amount they pay for marketing and advertising and packaging?   Send money straight to the companies without taking a portion, kinda like Ellen Degeneres does when raising money on her show? Seriously, the celebrity dunk tank is one of the few campaigns to raise money that I endorse.
  Anyway,  Are all of you really certain where those dollars are going or exactly what types of research these companies are supporting?  We all know that no amount of money will ever erase cancer of any kind.  I agree that there is still so much we don't know and research can help to provide better treatment options and hopefully less deaths over the years, but the commercial that states donating can insure that someday no one will have to suffer from this horrible disease is a load of crap.  I mean, do you really think those of us that have been through this need a breast cancer awareness month.  For many of us, every month is breast cancer awareness month, every month, every day, all year long.  We really just need to look in the mirror to be painfully aware.--in fact, we spend much of our time trying to forget and put behind us the impact this shitty disease has made on our lives.  That's why I'm in therapy now---to try to become LESS AWARE of all that has transpired in the last year.
   And all this talk of being a survivor, a soldier, a warrior in pink.  GAG!!!!!!!!!!!  I don't ever want to be labeled as any of these.  Survivor implies you had a brush with death and narrowly escaped. I never really felt like I was at Death's door....maybe like I got a card in the mail from Death saying Thinking of You...not a great moment either, but better than Death arriving at my door.  And just because I've survived this round of cancer doesn't mean I've escaped forever...it is an all too staggering awareness that cancer of some sort may not be through with me yet.  I take a little pill called Tamoxifen every day that keeps me aware of that. So I say no to survivor. It also trivializes a group of people that deserve far more exposure than we "survivors" and those are the victims.  By only attaching the word survivor to all these pink rosy campaigns, the truth of what breast cancer really is is lost.  Not everyone survives. Thousands of women die each year.
   On to soldier and warrior. these are just insults to the many men and women who actually are soldiers.  Do we forget there have been and are people that actually are in the midst of warzones and battlefields?  Getting through cancer is certainly a battle but mostly fought by the doctors, surgeons,therapists and pharmaceuticals that assisted me in becoming cancer free at this moment.  Make no mistake that I did not come out on the other side strictly from my own will to survive.  I had a bit of help.  So I have made the choice to not call myself any of these things.  And part of that is because I do not want any part of me to be defined by cancer.  I do not want cancer to put a label on me.   As much as the media tries to.
   With that said, take a hike, October.  Please take your time in coming back around.

Back to the blogging world..Fake boobs ain't all they're cracked up to be.

Ok, so I know I haven't kept up with this since my last surgery and many folks are wondering what the heck is going on over here.  So in a big nutshell,  I had my reconstruction done on May 15th.  When I woke up from surgery, I was overjoyed to find that the brick feeling was gone!  The was no longer a concrete slab attached to my upper torso.  However, upon coming home that day, I was a bit sad and still am because I thought the new girls would be bigger than they turned out to be.  I know this isn't my surgeon's fault.  He crammed all he could fit in there with the tissue he had to work with.  550 cc's in both.  This may seem big to the average gal just getting a boob job who has all that healthy full fatty breast tissue in addition to the implants, but for someone like me, starting at a deficit, it really only brought me back to the size I was before cancer robbed me of my perfect breasts.  And somehow that just doesnt seem fair.  If I had to give up the softness and the sway and the cleavage I used to have, I should have at least gotten a trade off with bigger boobs. 
    So, needless to say, it's been difficult adjusting to these new appendages.  They don't feel the same, they are rigid and immobile for the most part.  They don't look the same, they do not bounce or sway or push together like they used to and there are many clothes I used to wear that made my natural boobs look great but now make these look kinda unimpressive to say the least.  So I've had to spend $$$ on buying different styles of shirts, tops, etc that make my boobs look more appealing to average passerby as well as myself.   I've also invested some cash in some new bras that give me the size I would have liked to have, but still not the sway or cleavage.   I wore a bikini top for the first time last week and  once again was saddened by my lack of squishiness and bounce.  Sometimes, in certain clothes my boobs look pretty good to me.  Naked is another story.  My right one still hasn't dropped to the level of my left probably because of all the scar tissue and trauma to that one.  The scars are still a bit hard and unsightly.  The edges are a bit "squarish"  because of the dog ears flaps of skin that would eventually be used to create nipples, but I think I've decided to pass on those.  But hopefully my surgeon can at least round them out and clean up those areas to make them look rounder, more normal.   Feeling them with my hands and looking at them in the mirror are the two things that are a constant reminder of what I have lost and will never get back.  I used to appreciate a woman walking or sitting nearby who had great soft bouncy boobs with nice cleavage and fullness.   Because I had that too.  Now, more often than not, it's like a dagger to my heart.  I'm immediately insecure and can't even stand to look at them.   I feel bad because Max looks at them and as much as I never used to care, now I think he's looking because he knows he had those and can never have them again.  And I know that's just all my problem.  Because somewhere in my insecure fucked up cancer head, I feel bad because I just don't look as good as I once did.  In his defense, I know he's just looking because it's normal to look and I know he loves me exactly the way I am. I would find him suddenly strange if he didn't look.  I just wish I could still look without having a moment of hatred for that girl with the great boobs and a moment of hatred and sadness for my own lost ones.  I'm hoping some of these insecurities and reservations about my appearance will subside with time, but now i'm certainly stuck in the middle of sometimes they look pretty good, sometimes not too bad, but sometimes I hate them and cry and am angry and pissed that the only part of my body I used to think was perfect is gone forever.   And that is a reality that cuts me to the core every day. 
   Ok, are any of you feeling sorry for me yet?  No need...I got that covered.   Harder to have to use your brains and not your boobs to get a free drink!   Anyway,insecurities aside, it certainly is wonderful to be among the active and living again.  I've enjoyed being active and back at the gym, and spending time with friends I missed for a long time.  I enjoy being able to wear clothes without the rashes and skin irritations, and wearing sports bras only when necessary.  It's nice to be super busy again and enjoying the summer, although it is moving all too quickly and I feel I haven't really lived it enough.   The 13 pounds I lost during my illness have mostly come back once I started drinking alcohol again after 3 months.  Just doesn't seem fair.  And the hot flashes I get due to the Tamoxifen I'm on now are unrelenting and horrible.  Never thought it was possible to sweat this much. But it's better than lying around in pain and misery day after day.  I'm thankful to be alive and cancer free, and thankful to the many friends and loved ones that make my world a better place.  I'm hoping to be working by summer's end/beginning of fall and finding some purpose again.  Gonna lose that 10-15 lbs again so my boobs look bigger.  I know I have been lazy with the blog and have lots of funny stories to tell which I will begin tomorrow.  For now, I just wanted to update everyone on my general health and well being.  Back to the funny shit very soon.   Looking forward to keeping a daily journal again to document the hilarity of my crazy life and random encounters.   Please stay tuned....

Its Been Awhile...

Ok..I'll start by apologizing that I have not checked in with all of you for awhile.  The fundraiser was on April 16th and it was fabulous.  Over 200 people showed up to support me and I was extremely happy and overwhelmed at all the love and support I received that night.  Thank you to all who bought and sold raffle tix, made donations, offered items for bidding, and came out that night to support me.  We had over 80 gift baskets and prizes and I was happy to see lots of friends leaving the event with some really great stuff.  Thanks to all of you, I can now breathe a little easier with some financial burdens lifted.  You will never know how much your support means to me.
     Since that night, so much has gone on. First, I have moved from the 1st to the 3rd floor in my building.  The 200 or so trips up and down the stairs were quite taxing considering I had to carry all my shit plus these bricks on my chest as well.  It was exhausting, yet probably the best exercise I've had in months.  A week of stair climbing certainly burned some calories.  As for my new place, I'm absolutely loving it!  It's much brighter and a bit bigger with more closet space.  It's a bright sunny apartment which is a welcome change from the first floor which had in recent months been dubbed "the cancer prison."  It's nice to break free from all the negative energy associated with that place and have a fresh start.  Still getting used to the stairs, but way happier up here!
     There were some sad things lately too.  Max had both his grandfather and mother in law pass away in the past two weeks.  So lots of sadness there, especially for Mason.  She was very close with her grandma and it was a hard blow after losing her mom years ago.  To top it off, her 16th B-day fell on Mother's Day this year.  UGH.  So all of that has been stressful and sad for all of us. 
     Ok--enough sadness.  Back to the good stuff.  I have surgery in 6 days on May 16th.  These bricks are finally taking a hike and will be replaced with the soft squishy goodness of silicon.  This is one surgery I'm desperately looking forward to.  I can't wait to be able to push my boobs together again and have some cleavage.  I can't wait to get this sentinel node biopsy scar moved so I can wear shirts without irritation to my right armpit.  I am soooooooooo looking forward to sleeping on my side again.  It's an impossibility with these rigid expanders that have overflowed my sides and landed in my armpits.   I can't wait to get out of bed in a manner unlike a turtle on its back. Max thinks my boobs feel very similar to knees against his chest or back and I know he is looking forward to some bounce again as well.  Tank tops, sexy lingerie, and sundresses await!   It seems like it's been 3 years instead of 3 months.  Didn't think I'd make it, but I did.  I'll update you all after surgery...then we can move on to getting some nipples down the line!  But first the softness....I really don't even remember what it's like to have boobs that move.  You'll all get the up close and personal  in a week or so....Later, peeps!  Wish me luck!
    

What I've learned or didn't learn from this experience.

So alot of people seem to want to know what I've learned from having cancer.  What I will take away from this experience.  What wisdom I now possess.  And really, in all honesty, not much.  I've learned that cancer sucks, and I you will never hear me say I'm grateful I went through any of this for any reason.  I certainly could have gone through my whole life not knowing all I know about breast cancer and been just fine.   The front row seat I got was certainly not worth the price of admission.  Truth is, I carry the same set of values I had before cancer, I still find the same things funny, I still look at life in much the same way.  Basically, this experience has reinforced my beliefs that the strengths and weaknesses and fears I always thought I had were what they were to begin with.  Sure, I had to stare at those strengths and weaknesses and fears up close and personal in the mirror,  but  they weren't new. They just never were utilized as much until now.    I'm glad I'm muddling through, it's been the worst experience in my life so far, and I've seen some of the darkest days of my existence during all of this.  But really, I'm pretty pissed off and upset for what I have and will still endure in all of this.
     I think it's hard for people who have not been through something similar to really understand.  Yes, I have a deeper sensitivity and compassion for people who are in chronic pain or physical discomfort for any reason, but again..didn't really need to know how bad that could be.  I know that the people I have chosen to share my life with, my circle of friends , my life partner,  are all there because I knew they would be there.   This didn't make me realize who my friends were.  It just made me realize that I made good decisions all along in choosing these people to share my life.   This didn't make me a better person.  I was a good person to begin with.  My closest friends know how loving and loyal and involved I am.  And there is always a give and take, a shift in responsibilties in every relationship at different times due to different circumstances.  This is my time to take, to be comforted, be moody, be vulnerable, be whatever I will be that gets me through the day.  Tomorrow or next week or next year will be my time to give.  But that is no different than it would have been had I not gotten cancer. 
    I learned long ago not to take time for granted, to cherish every day, to make the most of my time.  I also learned long ago to take care of myself, to give my body and mind all the time it needs to heal, that however I approach my battle with breast cancer is mine alone.   And however and whatever gets me through this is what I'm going to do.  In my way.  In my own time.  And I am allowed to be as selfish as I want to. If I want to turn off my phone or not answer it for a day or two days or a week, I have that right to silence.  If I want to sit at home and cry and scream and feel sorry for myself, I own that too.  If I want a glass of wine with my Percocet, so be it.   If I want to treat myself to something or spend money on something, even something frivolous and completely unnecessary that makes me feel good in the midst of all of this,  that is my right.  If I want to be moody or pissed off, you might want to keep the hell away from me for awhile.  If there is one thing I definitely have learned, it's that until you have run a marathon in my shoes, you have no right to put your 2 cents in on how i should or shouldn't be feeling,  what I should do next,  what you think is best for me. BLAH BLAH BLAH.  Trust me, I know you are all there.  I know you care, I know you support me, and what I know the most is that most of you have absolutely no idea what i'm dealing with physically, mentally, or emotionally. 
      That being said, to sum it all up...I've learned that cancer sucks, cancer combined with unemployment sucks even more.  Statistics and the law of averages will  guarantee that some of you will battle some form of cancer in the future, and that sucks too.   And god forbid that day happens for you, but if/when it does, you can have my full blessing to be as needy, as depressed, as moody, as frustrated,as withdrawn, as crazy and as selfish as you need to be.   We all need to take care of ourselves first, so as to better take care of each other when the time calls for it. 
    Times up...gotta go get these baseballs i call boobs inflated some more...I'll be rolling with the percocet the next couple of days.....more updates to come.

Plastic Surgeons & Bedside Manner

So, I visited many plastic surgeons before choosing one.  The first guy barely gave any info on the procedure and when I asked him to show me some pictures he grabbed some slides of one patient and made me hold them up to the light to try to see them.  Really?  That was it--that's all he offered as an example of his work.  He's the same one that wanted to make nipples out of my labia tissue.  Just trying to get a peek of my hoo-hoo, I think.  So didn't choose him.  Second guy was highly experienced and credentialed, had impressive slide show, very cushy fancy robes, very informative, was actually going to choose him until I found out he was out of network.  Good thing I ditched him too cuz that one consult cost me $600.  Seriously..the nerve.  Third guy clearly thought he was God and was extremely offended that we were actually questioning him on his take of the procedure.   Treated me like I was there to just get a random boob job--Hello, I'm not here by choice, forgive me if I have some questions about how all of this is going to go down.  And then his nurse was quite bitchy and offended when I saw one set of his pictures and the final result wasn't pretty.  So my natural response was I don't want to end up looking like that.  She made it very clear that she found that rude.  Once again, if I am going to be paying you to be hacking off body parts and rebuilding them, I want to make it really clear how I would like the final result result to look.   So that led us to number 4 who I ended up choosing.
Number 4 spent a good two hours with us at the first consult and was very straightforward on how things would go down.  He was generous with his photos of all stages of breast reconstruction and we liked his work.  He was young (mid 40's maybe), down to earth, had a good laid back vibe, nice office, and most importantly, FREE PARKING!!!!!!!!!!!  Ok maybe not most importantly, but important.  And he was the only one to even mention the use of the ONCUE pain patch that was implanted in my chest after surgery that delivered a constant flow of anethestic over the first few days after surgery.  Those first three days were bliss--I felt nothing--I miss those days.

Anyway, now that I've had some time to spend with my ps, I'd like to talk about bedside manner.  Yes, he tolerated my midnight and early morning calls those first couple weeks when I was freaking out and in pain and really miserable.  I was not an easy patient at first.  But having no frame of reference for what I was dealing with, quite understandable i think.  So kudos to him for putting up with me. 
As far as office visits are concerned, I've had three fills and one other visit just to check everything out while I was healing before the expansion process began.  Ok, I've got these pokey uncomfortable expanders in that are stretching my skin and muscle beyond comprehension. I've got some weird skin sensitivity on my chest that is unbearable at times.  Do you really need to poke and push and prod at me that roughly?  I understand you need to feel what's going on in there, but seriously, have a little compassion.  All of those places you are poking rather harshly are REALLY REALLY SORE!!  And when I say "Hey settle down, that hurts"or "ouch" then ease up mister.   I know you are not the coddling type, and maybe that is part of your charm, but once in awhile, gimme a little bit of sympathy.  I wish you could have these expanders for a week or two to really know how this feels.  The funniest thing is that Max usually goes to my appts with me.  After the last injection, both Max and my ps actually had a conversation about how cool and awesome it is how the boobs are instantly bigger after the injection. Really?  Have you two seen the size of that syringe you come at me with every  week?  But I get it--they are men and men are still boys when it comes to boobs, nipples or not.  I love a great pair of boobs too and yes it is kinda cool that they get bigger every week, but they also get harder and heavier and I think they have moved into my armpits now as well.  Not cool. 
  So anyway, my point is that bedside manner counts.  Yes I think you are clever and funny and I honestly think you are the right guy to give me the perfect set of boobs when all is said and done.  Your tendency toward honesty, good or bad, is greatly appreciated.  But maybe just once we could role play and I can stick a big ass syringe full of saline in your chest or even better in your penis and then remark how cool and awesome it is!  that would be fun, wouldn't it?  Don't worry, I'd make sure to poke and prod really hard to make sure everything is in place before and after. Especially where it really hurts.  And the best part, I would bill you for services rendered when I'm done!  In my next life, I'm coming back as a plastic surgeon. 

In all honesty, folks--as much as this sucks, I do love my ps and even though I'm honest it's all in good fun.  You can find his link on my homepage--I'd recommend him for anything.