So I’m editing a ton of video interviews with these hoity-toity Manhattan plastic surgeons. Basically, every plastic surgeon in Manhattan, it would seem. A massive, sort of soul-sucking undertaking — oh, how I hate editing the spoken word — but good money. So I’ll be a little absent until Friday is good and gone.
I’m learning SO much about breasts, though. Weird, because I kind of considered myself an expert since I came with two and have to corral them on a daily basis, but seems I don’t know everything.
For instance, did you know it’s very challenging to make a “breast mound that looks like a breast mound”? It’s true. One doctor looked straight into the camera and said that to me, in a voice a little low and rumbly and inappropriate.
You know what I said to him in response?
“Doc, your teeth are yellow like dried mustard. Do you know NO ONE who does teeth whitening? Aren’t you filthy stinking rich?? Also please stop talking about breast mounds. I’m delicate.”
But he didn’t listen. He just kept droning on and on about breast mounds, those two words slipping through his ochre teeth until I became uncomfy in my own skin and hyper aware of my own breast mounds. And I’m usually fine with them.
Another doctor was very nervous and fat and basically pre-verbal in front of the camera. He broke out in flop sweat. The entire interview, he glistened like an Easter ham and I wanted nothing more than to stick him with cloves. And, you know, I’d say “aww, poor guy,” I would, but he’s clearly not poor. Just ….. socially marginal.
Another doctor went on a rant about doctors who ignore “the human element”:
“So you’re an oncologist and you walk into the examination room and say, ‘You know you’re going to lose your hair, right?’ I mean, those are the first words out of your mouth? Who does that? Who says that? I don’t care what kind of physician you are. Make believe you’re a human first.”
And right there, on the spot, I looked him dead in his pre-recorded eyes and declared my undying love for him, porn ‘stache and all, because honestly, that — THAT — is genius.
Those are words to live by.
I can think of several people at a recent church I attended who really need to hear these life-changing words:
Make believe you’re a human first.
So, thanks, Doc.
But, seriously, shave that thing or name it.
I too have breasts. I am expert on the breast mound. I think he is incapable of making one because maybe, with mustard teeth, he never gets to see them or play with them? Just a guess.
There are only two things those kinds of ‘staches are good for: you already named pr0n, and 70s-era cover bands. Maybe he jams Funky Worm on weekends?
There’s a lot I could say at this point about certain doctors’ interpersonal skills– but for the moment I think discretion is the better part of valor. I know what you’re saying, though.
Oddly, enough, I’ve had to build some convincing breasts fron scratch from time to time, and the task is a bit more complicated than it sounds– particularly if said phoney breasts aren’t restrained by a bra and need to move like real breasts do. In my case, I used plastic pellets and cotton stuffing inside lycra–
For some reason, I don’t think that’s wwhat these doctors’ patients are looking for.
They’ve probably handled the breast mounds and other parts of some of the “Real Housewives of New York.” I’m guessing you are doing some sort of heroic work to make these interviews watchable. You should be getting hazard pay.
“Make believe you’re a human first.”
Wow. That can apply to so many situations. I love that phrase. I am stealing it.
How can someone so wise be rockin’ the porn ‘stache?
roo — /In my case, I used plastic pellets and cotton stuffing inside lycra–
For some reason, I don’t think that’s wwhat these doctors’ patients are looking for./
Hahahahahahaha! You’re a genius, roo! I’m sure your breast mounds rocked!
Kate P — Well, yes, I think I AM a hero. I didn’t until this week, but now I definitely am.
MM — I know. I want it on a bumper sticker or a t-shirt. Where is that sarahk with all our t-shirts??