March 26 10

I am channeling my inner Florence Nightingale.

I’m all decked out in my gear…my white coat, my white hat, and my awesome orthopedic oxfords. RAWR. Yes, yes, I realize that our good Florence didn’t even wear the sexy white gear and looked a lot more like Ma Ingalls, but you know what, don’t rain on my parade today. I’m a super good nurse, if I do say so myself. Just ask my sister. (just ignore all the hydrocodone she’s on right now, she totally loves my nursing skills, I swear) (No, really, she does).

We arrived at the clinic early in the morning and waited. And waited. And waited. She got the royal treatment. The lovely gown, the lunchlady hairnet, the anti-blood clot compression socks, the IV, and the shot of a little somethingsomething to take the edge off. When the doctor arrived toting boxes of fake tits in his hands, she got the pleasure of standing nude while he Picasso’ed her up. I didn’t get the royal treatment. Now that I think about it, maybe that’s for the best; she was probably a little cold. But I could have use the edge-off meds, that would have been nice.

While she spent the day on the table, I spent the day in the waiting room, well, waiting. The only thing I could stomach was the box of Swedish Fish EGGS I had bought because when you see something like a box of Swedish fish that they make for Easter and they are nothing like the other kind of candy eggs you get around this holiday…but instead, they are Swedish Caviar. CANDIAR, they are calling it. I had to sneak the little suckers into my mouth because there were rules in this waiting room. No eating or drinking. I had already gone and been a big old rude rule breaker when I walked in with my giant coffee, I didn’t really want to get kicked out. So, I hid my face in my purse while I stuffed it full of the entire box because I am nothing if not klassy with a k.

(Also klassy? Listening in to fellow waiter’s hushed conversations with their doctors to try to figure out what sort of surgery they are they for.)

But then it was over. And I got to help my sister get dressed while I tried to sneak a peek at her new rack. I may have touched them a little bit, even though they are wrapped in a tremendous amount of gauze and bubble wrap..Or something. She is going to have gorgeous boobies, and I am going to hate her come June when we go to Myrtle Beach together. My sad little 32Bs are going to hide in embarrassment.

Now, all I have been able to think about while I am helping her walk, or making her something bland to eat (BRAT DIET, FTW!), or telling her when she can take her pills, or helping her potty is that

DAMMIT SHE GOT TO HAVE HER MYTHICAL SURGERY.

I mean, she is my sister. We have had endless conversations discussing our mythical plastic surgeries of choice. She always came back to the boobs, and I always come back to the stomach. We have each imagined other surgeries too…mini-lipos and rhinoplasty and botox on our foreheads (we are both squinters because we are both pretty lazy glass-wearers) and neck surgery to avoid the dreaded wattle. But it was always just sister talk. I never really thought she would go ahead and make hers a reality.

But, alas, if my tummy tuck ever comes to fruition, I know she’ll be there with her nursing gear on, helping me pee.

If you want to see more of me – and, I mean, obviously, you do – you can read my latest entertainment news over at Juice, including my thoughts on this week’s LOST…OHMYGODLOST, my latest outfit over at The Urban Closet, my latest advice over at So You Want It, and my latest blathering over at Aiming Low, where I am talking about TARGET.

ALSO…have you entered my contest yet? You can win a $200 VISA GIFT CARD!

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  1. best wishes for a quick recovery. My sister did this about 5 years ago and she is SO happy with the results – and yes, I’m just a little jealous of the firmness and perfectness of them, esp. as she is 6 yrs older!

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    Comment by Sarah on March 26, 2010
  2. I wouldn’t have thought that she’d have trouble peeing with a boob job. You should see if you can boost your traffic from the pervert crowd and get her permission to post befores and afters.

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    Comment by Avitable on March 26, 2010
  3. The problem with take-the-edge-offers is that the best ones come with needles.

    Actually, that’s probably the only reason I’m not a drug addict come to think of it – so I guess that’s a GOOD thing.

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    Comment by Miss Britt on March 26, 2010
  4. Congrats to your sis on her new boobs! How exciting.
    I’d like new boobs but don’t think I could ever go through with it.
    Now botox – that might be more my reality after someone asked how I got the “scar” between my eyes that is actually a furrow line.

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    Comment by Christine on March 26, 2010
  5. You are a nice sister!

    BTW, I would LOVE to have Bs. My poor little (almost) AAs would wonder what happened!

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    Comment by Lisa on March 26, 2010
  6. You’re such a good sister and I bet you’re a damn good nurse!

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    Comment by Kristabella on March 27, 2010
  7. I find plastic surgery so fascinating. So fascinating that I’ve informed Aaron to start a “Slynnro is getting old” fund.

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    Comment by slynnro on March 28, 2010
  8. I think about what I would get done almost everyday. And nothing drastic just something to make what I already have look better. Just because I was born with a certain genetic fate (awful boobs) doesn’t mean I can’t fix them.

    I’m sure C will look fabulous.

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    Comment by Heather B. on April 1, 2010
  9. What a good sister. I love your blog. Nice design.

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    Comment by Rhinoplasty London on July 15, 2010
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