Chapter 13

Madeline slept until well past nine for the first time in years. She stretched and had a smile on her face. Well, now, that was something. Sheila did it again. She reached for the magazine on the night table and read again about the facelifts and other magic cosmetic surgery that now was available at the Emory University dermatology clinic. She was troubled by the time required for recovery and certainly didn't want her friends and associates to know of her vanity.

She called Sheila. "I hope you're awake."

"Yeah, Gregory had to go downtown to some meeting, so I had breakfast with him." She chuckled, "We went to bed early, so it was okay." Then, she giggled. "How was Carlos?"

"He provided one of the nicer evenings that I can remember. I never once had the impression that he was just doing his job. He seemed to enjoy what he did to me and he did a lot."

"He came highly recommended. If he works out, maybe you could have him full time?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'll go back to the—what did you call it? The meat market."

"Madeline!"

"I'm going to have cosmetic surgery on my face, neck, and breasts. The rest of it, I'll have to do with exercise. Maybe I'll even go back to the hormone replacement therapy. We couldn't have intercourse."

"When are you going to do this?"

"I'm calling today to have a consultation when they can see me. I'm worried about people seeing me before I recover. Also, I will have to argue with my gynecologist about the hormone cream to put in my pussy." She sighed. "The pussy doctor thinks that using hormones may make me die sooner. I'd maybe give up a couple of years in the nursing home for a couple of years in sexual bliss."

"Are you sure they didn't mess with your mind when you were in the hospital?"

"They didn't, but I did. When you told me that you would sneak me in some wine and scallops, I began to wonder what life was all about. I had many hours to think. Too many. I concluded that going to hell a couple of years early was preferable to living in the hell of a nursing home two more years."

"Hey, I'm in marketing. I know how to choose options. You're going to be my role model."

"I hate to be so crass, but I'm now on the side of Medicare. I had a long talk with my GP and he explained how the medical community and the government were at odds. The medics make money only if we're alive. The Medicare folks only thrive when we die. It's that simple." She laughed. "So I hope I can save them some money."

"Madeline!" Sheila couldn't stop laughing. "For God's sake, stay around a couple of more years. I need you."

"So, you're with the doctors?" Madeline giggled.

"Yes. Of course. But just for two years. Then, as a conservative taxpayer, I switch."

"You are a stealthy bitch. First, you take my money, then you plan my demise."

"Enough! I read about this cruise ship that takes people out of circulation until they recover—like two or three weeks. It was in one of those magazines they have in the hairdresser salons. They also have a full time medical staff on board, some certified, some foreign, but all of them have happy pills."

"Where? When?"

"I'll look on the Internet and see. Maybe make a few calls, but I'll get back to you."

Madeline had seen Carlos several times during the past two weeks. She had faithfully used her hormone replacement cream to revive the walls of her vagina and it seemed to be working. Soon, she would be ready to resume a regimen of light intercourse. These thoughts made her smile with pleasure.

Sometime later, Sheila invited Madeline to dinner with Greg and her for a conference and planning session. As they were having their cocktail time, Sheila brought out her laptop and began showing Madeline a slide presentation. Sheila began her narrative. "What you see here is the good ship 'Recover.' It is essentially a kind of hospital ship with all the benefits of regular cruises. Good food, plenty of entertainment, and professional care for those recovering from obesity, surgery, alcohol or drugs. They offer practically all of the benefits.

"Here is a picture of the hospital in Guadalajara where you will have your reconstructive surgery. This is a picture of the surgical team that will attend you. I had to bargain hard with them to get all of your work done at the same time. In the U.S., they want you to make repeated visits to the hospital and have only one procedure at a time. Sure runs up the hospital bill, but more importantly, it increases the chance of infection every day that you stay in one of those places. Fortunately for you, you will not have to have breast enlargement, only a few firming procedures. It's quicker and heals faster.