Recounting his own experience receiving botched augmentations to his nose, chin and ears, Scone warns readers against receiving plastic surgery from uncertified doctors.
Scone wants to keep others from suffering the horror of bad plastic surgery, as he naively did after picking his doctor out of the Yellow Pages without doing any research on the surgeon’s medical background. Scone claims that his misplaced trust in Dr. Thadeaus DamonCutter was cemented not by seeing credentials, but by the assurances of the women who worked in the doctor’s office and by the doctor’s assertion, upon consultation, that he could see several things wrong with the author’s nose that needed fixing. After surgery, Scone’s face was deformed to the point that many people refused to make eye contact with him; he became socially isolated. He spent years making complaints to the Medical Quality Assurance Commission, but they said they were unable to take action. It becomes clear throughout the book that even before his surgery, the author suffered from crippling self-consciousness about his appearance. This vanity can be a bit confusing given the fact that he’s also a born-again Christian who professes to have had several personal encounters with God. Furthermore, in many parts of the memoir, it can be difficult to distinguish fact from the author’s perception. At one point, Scone claims to have been hypnotized by his doctor prior to his surgery, although he can’t provide any evidence. Information that might be helpful—a plastic surgery patient’s checklist, for example—tends to get buried beneath some of the author’s contradictory, confusing statements.
A well-intentioned, cautionary tale that will be of limited use to most readers.