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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Explants
>> Honolulu
Sitting in the first row of the crowded auditorium at St. Francis Medical Center with Cruz MacKenzie, Donna Tanega semi-whispered: "Back in '76, they discovered that I had lumps in both breasts. They were malignant. The doctor said that I needed a mastectomy, but that he could give me boobs that would look better than the originals. 'Archaeologists could dig you up a thousand years from now and your breasts will still be perfect,' is what he said."
"Mm. There's something to look forward to."
"Won't happen. I'm having them removed next week."
"Cut them out?" Cruz blurted a little too loud.
"Explanted. But I'm dying of silicone poisoning. What choice do I have? Dr. Williams is the only doctor I found who understands the problem. It means I have to go all the way to the Big Island for an appointment, but it's worth it. Doctors pushed silicone on us. Now most doctors don't know what to do about it, they haven't yet admitted that it's a problem. The courts keep coming out with differing legal opinions. For years my doctor in Honolulu said my problems were all in my head, he couldn't explain the physical changes. I don't know where I'd be without Dr. Williams. Oh, excuse me."
Donna led a tall man wearing a blue plaid palaka shirt, navy Wrangler slacks and black cowboy boots to the lectern, tapped the microphone.
"Thank you all for coming," she said. "I know many of you, and I'm heartened to see lots of new faces. Most of us here are women, our problem is breast implants. Some, I know, have cheek or chin implants, some posterior. At least three men I know in this room have silicone testicles. I mention this as much for Dr. Williams' sake, so he knows who he's talking to, as well as for your sake. Yes, it is a very personal problem. But you are not in this alone. The sole purpose for Survivors of Silicone is to help you deal with the reality of the problem."
Dr. Bill Miller spoke for an hour, but within a few minutes Cruz realized that this was more than just one column. Maybe a series. It was the first full hour that Cruz didn't have even one thought related to the disappearance of Daren Guy in over a week.
Over on the Big Island, meanwhile, Daren Guy and Sushi Leclaire waited and watched for a sign of the yacht Wet Spot. The moment it arrived, Sushi was loading the 12 Filipinas he'd recruited out of the brothel bars of Manila into the rented van and heading straight to the house he'd rented in the hills above Kona. Daren, filled with increasingly mixed emotions, wasn't sure what he'd do with Sonya. Or what she might do to him.
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com