Falling At The Surgeon's Feet. Lucy Ryder
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problems, couldn’t join her sports-crazy fiancé in outdoor pursuits because her heavy breasts caused discomfort, chronic pain and embarrassment. Kerry Gilmore had admitted that she’d spent her entire high-school years hiding her body and being unable to do things other girls did. Normal things like horseriding, swimming or joining the cheerleading squad. But it was the chronic pain that had finally made the decision for her.
She wanted her life back and Holly was preparing to do just that.
Exchanging the scalpel for surgical scissors, Holly carefully began separating the sectioned dermis from the breast tissue. The aim was to maintain a healthy blood supply to the nipple or it would turn necrotic. The drawback to any reduction was that large amounts of tissue were fed by a lot of blood vessels. Each time she nicked one of them, she waited while the OR nurse cauterized it and mopped up the blood.
Once the dermis had been properly detached from the breast tissue, Holly transferred it into the waiting hands of the attending nurse and went to work on excising the glandular and adipose tissue as per Lin Syu’s murmured instructions.
By the time they’d removed five hundred grams of tissue from each breast, Holly was ready for the next stage. She and Dr. Syu made several complicated knots around the areola before gently lifting the nipple into its new position and nudging the remaining parenchyma into place.
She then temporarily closed and stapled the skin flaps so she could assess the size, shape and position of each breast. The specialized operating table lifted the patient into a sitting position while Holly used the sizer to check the positioning before gently removing the staples and peeling back the skin flaps.
She attached strips of acellular mesh to the upper breast substance to strengthen the weakened muscles then patiently reconnected the mass to the dermal layers using a resorbable intradermal suture. This would reduce the pull of gravity and wound tension, speeding up recovery. It would also help keep scarring to a minimum.
She sutured the areola to the surrounding flaps before reaching for the staple gun for the final stage of the dermal resectioning procedure. When it was over she stepped back to allow the nurse to swab the wound sites with iodine in preparation for the daisy strips that would be applied around the areola in widening circles. They would serve a double function of protecting the wound from infection as well as provide additional support while the patient healed.
Five hours after the patient went under; Lin Syu supervised the insertion of the twin drains while Holly stripped off her mask, gloves and headgear.
“Excellent work, Dr. Buchanan,” the older woman said, finally lifting twinkling black eyes to Holly. “We’ll have you doing all our cosmetic procedures before long.”
Holly grimaced, as Dr. Syu had known she would, and moved away from the table—her part of the procedure currently over. She sent a quick look up to the observation-room window and wasn’t surprised to find it empty. Breast reductions weren’t that interesting unless you were considering specializing in plastic surgery. And since Dr. Hot Celebrity was rumored to have done hundreds if not thousands of boob jobs, he had probably only wanted to rattle her.
And succeeded. Darn it.
“As long as the patient is satisfied with her new size,” she said, stretching out cramped back and shoulder muscles as she moved toward the doors. She knew that she would have to perform cosmetic procedures but in this case it helped knowing she could restore someone’s self-confidence while alleviating their pain.
Dr. Syu followed, stripping off her gloves. “You just saved her from a lifetime of pain and discomfort, Holly. That she wants to wear a bikini on her honeymoon doesn’t make cosmetic procedures wrong.”
Holly stifled a yawn. “I know,” she mumbled, feeling somewhat chastened. “Besides being the object of curiosity and ridicule, Kerry Gilmore said she was tired of men making lewd comments about her breasts.”
“Well, that’s just juvenile and typical,” Lin said in disgust. “Anyway, as long as she follows medical advice and wears the support garment, she’ll be wearing her string bikini on her honeymoon come summer.”
She untied Holly’s surgical gown and waited while Holly returned the favor before saying over her shoulder, “You don’t have to like them but you also shouldn’t forget that cosmetics procedures—especially the big-bucks ones—help fund the reconstructions.”
Holly sighed. Dr. Syu was right. Besides, she had first-hand experience of the emotional trauma caused by others’ perceptions to be reminded of why she’d chosen to specialize in plastic and reconstruction surgery.
She’d spent her entire childhood struggling against the stereotype of beauty-versus-brains and was tired of people judging her by her looks or her family’s accomplishments.
As a child she’d often thought she’d been adopted, switched at birth or maybe dumped on their doorstep by a wicked witch. It was only much later that she had accepted she was dark like her father and brother. At the time, though, she’d felt like an alien—a thin, scrawny, ugly duckling that her father couldn’t possibly love.
She’d been clumsy, awkward and—she’d be the first to admit—cripplingly shy, geeky and snotty as hell. She’d hated being compared to her incredibly beautiful, blonde outgoing mother and her famous photographic model sister. And because she couldn’t compete with her brother or sister for their father’s attention, she’d tried to be the smartest so he could be proud of her too. And just when she’d begun filling out and growing into her large eyes, big mouth and long legs, she’d fallen a couple of stories when the cable on a glass elevator had snapped.
She’d been forced to undergo countless surgeries to repair the damage caused by flying glass, once again becoming the object of ridicule and pity. Boys who hadn’t known about her accident had even called her The Scar, like she was some kind of comic-book villain or something.
“So,” Lin Syu said casually, jolting Holly out of disturbing memories of her past. “What do you think of the new guy?”
Holly froze. “The new guy?”
“Yep.” Dr. Syu dropped her soiled surgical gown into the hamper. “Our new celebrity hunk. I hear the nurses are all fighting to get on the surgical roster with him.”
Holly rolled her eyes as heat crept up her neck. “I really hadn’t noticed.” Lin eyed her levelly, expression wry as though she could see right through Holly’s lie. “What?” Holly asked, trying to look innocent. “I’ve been busy.”
“So the looks that day at the meeting were my imagination?”
“What looks?”
“Everyone paying attention saw the looks, Dr. Buchanan.” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “I just wondered if you two already knew each other or if it was lust at first sight.”
Holly’s head shot up, eyes wide with shock. “Wha-at? I don’t…Ohmigod!” she spluttered, feeling her face burn with mortification as she thought back to those oddly intimate moments in the elevator and then again when their eyes had met across the boardroom. She hadn’t thought anyone had seen. Clearly she hadn’t been as discreet as she’d thought.
Her body instantly reacted to the memory of that weird sensation of the earth wobbling off its axis and she shivered and huffed out a breath.
“That’s…um…” She gulped and cast around for something intelligent to say but all that emerged from her mouth was a strangled gurgling sound that Dr. Syu seemed to find hilarious.
Struggling to get her emotions under control and stall for time, Holly busied herself by carefully folding her soiled surgical gown and placing it neatly in the hamper.
“It’s n-not what you think,” she finally murmured, huffing out a couple of breaths like she was about to give birth. “But we…um, did meet in the elevator on the way up.”
The surgeon pulled off her mask and cap and waited patiently for Holly to elaborate. When she didn’t, Lin’s