"I was there, you know. Right on the Island. Which is gorgeous, by the way. I walked up to the front desk, filled out the paperwork, was interviewed, examined, all the way until there were a room full of us girls sitting at desks just giggling with excitement watching a video about what to expect during and after the procedure, and I, I dunno, just chickened out. I grabbed my things and ran out of there like they were going to do something horrible to me. I know, stupid right? I could just kick myself. Anyway, a few weeks later and I'm back in Chicago and I run into this friend of mine, who as it turns out, didn't run away like a frightened rabbit, and she looks incredible. Stunning, in fact. And she tells me how much everything has changed since she's had the treatment. How she is never lonely. How she has her pick of bedtime partners. How she is dripping with jewelry and other favors from her admirers. And on and on, and I think, hey, that's for me. So I go back to the Island and guess what? They turn me away! They say if I want to come back that there is a waiting list a year and a half long. A year and a half! I could just scream! And I did it to myself, that's the worst part of it! The chance of a lifetime and I blew it because I was a little scaredy pants. Well, I signed up again. Who wouldn't? And you can bet when my time rolls around again, I'll be there, bags packed. Saying-- take me Clinic! Do your worst! Make me fabulous! I can stand it!" -- Melissa