The Lawsuit Against Malcolm L. Merriweather, MD


8:20 AM
My Bedroom
Houston, TX

I get a call from my editor about a one Bren Sanford, age 33, former ballerina. He wants me to do a human interest piece on her and her life after “le dance”.

2:43 PM
My cubicle at work

I place a call to Bren Sanford. One ring….two rings…”Hello?”

And upon hearing that greeting, I begin an odyssey so strange, so bizarre that I–loquacious word smith that I am–can barely find the words that could/would properly describe it plainly and succinctly.

But I shall try to do my best.

Seems that Bren Sanford is most appreciative of my wanting to interview her about her life post-ballet, but right now is really a most inopportune time. Apparently, Bren had surgery recently and in the simplest of terms, something went “terribly awry”.

Bren is angry as a result…nay, she’s VERY angry and is suing her doctor for malpractice and a host of over intangible injuries of the mental and emotional kind.

Bren’s anger makes her talkative and she wants to talk to me. As a fellow woman, I suppose she thought I’d understand, empathize, that I might concur… that I could possibly be deposed.

Here’s a little background on this story .

Seems that dancers’ bodies are streamlined. Nary an ounce of body fat on them; at least those that are in prima condition posses no body fat whatsoever. That includes those subtle areas that corporeally help mankind distinguish male from female. Long story short, Beth Sanford was…is…and without body sculpting, would always be ridiculously flat chested, something she desperately wanted to correct.

She was boob deficient; mammarily deprived and had been all her life. Frankly, the former dancer turned civilian, wanted to fill her fleshy divots with breast tissue. She wanted to feel like a woman and experience the need to have to wear a bra.

Enter Dr. Malcolm Langford Merriweather, plastic surgeon.

Bren continued on with her story.

She did some background research on the good doctor and in years past, he’d been highly recommended. He’d been practicing here in Houston and had done so continuously for 20 years, save for time out due to a little head injury sustained in a golf cart accident near the 17th hole on the links in Cuernavaca, Mexico. That little one year reprieve was the only time he’d stopped performing surgeries.

You see, this only endeared the doctor to Bren. Her father also sustained a head injury after falling from the roof of her childhood home a few years ago. This made her sympathize with Dr. Merriweather, so she gave him a chance He would perform her oh so important breast augmentation which would in turn, change her life forever.

Well, that it did my friends….that it did.

As fate would have it, Bren only met the doctor the morning of the surgery, as she was being wheeled into the OR, in fact. Her precursory examinations were done by his assistant. He also prepped her for surgery.

Two hours later, her breast augementation surgery was complete. She was wheeled into post-op, then home two hours later where she sneaked a peak under the bandages. She wasn’t pleased. Not pleased at all. In fact, she was horrified and mortified.

As was I.

Bren sent me a photo of the doctor’s handiwork. I’ll share it with you and while I never post photos on this blog that could possibly be construed as even remotely pornographic, I must include this photo–with her permission, of course . Perhaps, I should say here that it might not be deemed “safe for work”, so scroll down at your own risk.

Here’s a photo of Bren’s breasts, now roughly two months post-surgery.

As anyone can plainly see, the nipples and areolas are ridiculously asymmetrical.

One can certainly understand her displeasure.

So, these are the two main reasons why she’s suing Dr. Malcolm L. Merriweather.

I decided to milk this story for all it’s worth.

10:43 AM
My desk at work

I contacted Dr. Merriweather and spoke with him. He told me that he’d been instructed not to talk about the suit, but added that he was so upset, he felt he needed to buck his attorney’s advice and talk to me anyway. He invited me to his office.

I met him at his tastefully appointed clinic in Medical Center high rise. I shook his hand and sat down to get his side of the story. As it turns out, he’s very upset about being taken to court by Ms. Sanford and can’t understand why she’s so angry and dissatisfied by his work.

He told me that as far as her breasts were concerned, he simply “called them, as he saw them”.

This statement will make SO MUCH more sense once you take a look at the good doctor’s photo which I pilfered from his bio in the latest edition of the Houston Journal of Physicians.

Ah yes….wicked, wicked head injuries.

Well, the lawsuit continues and will go to court later this fall.

In the meantime, the doctor has retired and his spending his days here in Houston, painting replicas of Picasso’s best work.

As for Bren? She’s trying to cope with having “wall-eyed” breasts as best she can and has been forced to quit her job as a dental hygienist. The stress she says, has all but done her in emotionally. She insists that ever since the surgery, she feels like half a woman and can only be around people who understand her particular dilemma.

To make ends meet, she’s now the president of the late Marty Feldman fan club.

More on this story as it develops.



  1. Was the good doctor ever a valet to an aristocrat from England? Did he ride a bicycle around? Does he have a British accent, Laurie? Does he have friends named Andy and Barney?

  2. I DON’T GET IT. Both look NORMAL. Perhaps you could explain, although blind since birth, it may not be something I could understand.

  3. Maybe I’m having difficulty understanding what the problem is. But if you read my most recent post regarding my recent head injury, it may all make sense…

  4. Do you have her number, Laurie? I may be able to offer some practical assistance or comfort and consolation at least.

  5. Looks like things in LaurieLand are well. Hello all. Hey, do me a favor, big surprise, I’m whoring myself out for the Hottest Blogger Calendar. Stop by my brothel, click on the icon and throw me some votes. That way, when the calendar comes out, you can say ‘Hey, I know that beautiful bastard’. I can’t believe Obama went with Biden. He would have probably been better off with a wooden clothespin for a running mate. Or a raccoon.

  6. All is well, Karol, thanks for asking. How are the sisters Kendrick? I never got my ornament.

  7. So I quickly scrolled down and saw wall-eyed nipples and wall-eyes and it made me laugh so hard I heard something pop on my right side. It’s dangerous to read this stuff.
    Miss ya LK! I have so much to catch up on!

  8. Poor Bren. The problem is she had such a slanted outlook on life. Feeling the need to use plastic surgery is such an oblique way of regaining one’s confidence in their own askew appearance. Maybe I’m not as much of a cockeyed optimist as she was, but one cannot deny that going under the knife to repair one’s self-image is certainly a skewed idea. Some might say unbalanced, unequal and possibly uneven view of reality.

    Well Bren, I wish you all the best–may your days be filled with balance and your life with symmetry.

    (I love the Thesaurus)

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