Honolulu Lite

by Charles Memminger

Friday, April 3, 1998

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Surgeon is
cut below the rest

THIS is the kind of story that newspaper columnists live for: A medical receptionist from Korea was caught performing plastic surgery on the floor of her Honolulu apartment.

And the only way authorities found out about it was because some of her customers showed up at a real doctor's office complaining about botched surgery.

At first, officials said that performing surgery from your home isn't a criminal offense. They said it was an "administrative violation," something like getting a speeding ticket.

Wow. I mean, wow. Pull over, buddy. I'm citing you for going D Cup in a B Cup zone. You are two cups over the limit. You're lucky I don't cite you for BJUI, doing Boob Jobs Under the Influence.

I'll bet a lot of criminal defense attorneys are kicking themselves. Their clients are in prison for stabbing someone when the assailant could have just claimed he was performing an unauthorized "tummy tuck."

I'm trying to imagine the kind of person who would partake of the services of a freelance plastic surgeon. Most people don't even like to go to the doctor to get a shot. What kind of person would go to some office receptionist's apartment, plop down on the couch with the remote control and say, "Start cutting, baby. And don't block the TV. Jerry Springer's on."

Actually, the doc-wanna-be performed her surgery on the floor of her apartment. You know how it is ... laundry piled up on the bed and everything. The dog's claimed the comfy chair.

THE weird thing is that the procedures were completely covered by Blue Cross. Just kidding. It's just a sign of how bad the economy is getting. Queen's Hospital just laid off a bunch of people when they could have just let them work from home.

It's a good thing authorities nipped this operation in the bud, so to speak. She might have begun to branch out, formed her own HMO and start transplanting organs.

This is a kind of serious situation. Even though nobody died, we don't know if maybe she accidentally sewed up a soup ladle or some other kitchen implement into a patient. So, as a public service, I'm going to list some clues that maybe your plastic surgeon isn't quite up to snuff:

When you knock on her door, she shouts, "If that's those Watch Tower guys again I'm going to kick their butt."

The sign on the door says "Boobs R Us."

Her "liposuction machine" looks suspiciously like a Hoover vacuum and a Jack LaLanne juicer.

Instead of collagen for lip treatments, she uses Crisco.

A list of post-operative complications include "rug burns" and "doggie-doo stains."

She performs breast enlargement with a bicycle pump.

She closes all incisions with duct tape.

During your face lift she says, "Rats. Hey pooch, fetch the ear, fetch the ear. Good boy."

Her surgical implements say "Ginsu."

She lets you take the "extra bits" home in a Ziploc bag.

After your face lift there's a belly button in the middle of your forehead.

She watches "ER" during your operation and says, "Hey, why are they wearing those mask-thingies."

After your operation, she tries to tell you that "vertically aligned breasts" are the latest rage.

She tries to sell you on the "buy two, get one free" breast development package.

She breaks out the Cuisinart for eyelid surgery.

Her "patented hair augmentation process" involves cat fur balls and a stapler.