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The Ultimate Violation: A Warning to All

The Ultimate Violation: A Warning to All

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by Kurtess Lief Scone

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In the right hands, cosmetic or plastic surgery can become a work of beauty and a tremendous boost to a person's self-esteem. In the wrong hands, cosmetic surgery can become a powerful force to destroy one's self-esteem and any trace of confidence a person may have in the very core of his or her soul.

In The Ultimate Violation, author Kurtess Lief Scone tells


In the right hands, cosmetic or plastic surgery can become a work of beauty and a tremendous boost to a person's self-esteem. In the wrong hands, cosmetic surgery can become a powerful force to destroy one's self-esteem and any trace of confidence a person may have in the very core of his or her soul.

In The Ultimate Violation, author Kurtess Lief Scone tells the story of his life-his time suffering from rickets as a young boy; his adolescence; the role his relationship to Jesus Christ has played in his life; and his adulthood, during which, disliking his facial appearance, he underwent plastic surgery. In this memoir, he discusses the malpractice of his surgeon and being forced to deal with the negative consequences followed by mental and emotional issues related to abnormal cosmetic changes. Scone provides tools and strategies to help others find the right cosmetic surgeon.

The Ultimate Violation details Scone's journey to seek justice and overcome the embarrassment, shame, and humiliation he experienced at the hands of an unethical surgeon.

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iUniverse, Incorporated
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6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.65(d)

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A Warning to All
By Kurtess Lief Scone

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Kurtess Lief Scone
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-0704-9

Chapter One

Cosmetic Surgery Can Be Horrifying

In the right hands, cosmetic or plastic surgery can become an art of beauty and a tremendous self-esteem enhancement for a person's life. In the wrong hands, cosmetic surgery can literally become a powerful force to destroy one's self-esteem and any trace of confidence a person may have in the very core of his or her soul.

In the pursuit of finding the right cosmetic or plastic surgeon for myself, I happened to meet up with a cosmetic surgeon who, I came to realize, cared more about gaining my cosmetic and financial business than he cared about my cosmetic interests and desires. I only wish now that I had properly done my homework before I ever made an appointment to see the cosmetic surgeon who I came to realize was an opportunist predator.

Instead of having my self-esteem and self-image soaring with golden opportunities for the future, I was continuously obsessing about what had happened to me postsurgery and why any medical doctor would do what this cosmetic surgeon had done to me. I strongly hope that the reader of my book will never have to go through the devastating experiences that I have suffered in life. I never should have become the victim of cosmetic surgery.

Looking back upon the way the cosmetic doctor dealt with me, I can understand now that he was allowing me to come to my own conclusion that he could fulfill my cosmetic dreams for my facial features. After having the cosmetic doctor build up my confidence upon our initial consultation, things began to deteriorate during my second and third consultation. I recognize it now, but I didn't at the time of our consultations. The medical doctor did a good job of keeping me mentally off guard and mentally stupid. The surgeon had something else in mind for me on the actual day of surgery, a mental and cosmetic whammy.

How was I supposed to know that the medical doctor and cosmetic surgeon was setting me up for something diametrically opposite of what I wanted and needed cosmetically? I was hunting for the right surgeon, and this doctor was hunting me for his own selfish agenda. These facts have become more evident to me as the years have gone by.

The doctor who I was questioning before surgery didn't have the cosmetic skills or the discernment to rightly interpret my cosmetic interests. I was being mentally worked on by an eccentric predator.

A friend of mine in Lincoln, Arkansas, told me recently, "A shark doesn't negotiate. It just comes up and takes your leg off."

Postsurgery, the painful and devastating results became more and more evident with the passing of time. I wondered and questioned over and over in my mind how this could have happened to me. I felt like I had been violated by a medical surgeon who should have never touched my nose and ears.

The doctor's approach even caught me off guard on the very day of surgery. Postsurgery, my mind was black and dismally blank with the powerful effects of his cosmetic heist that had been forced on my mental faculties and facial features. The reader may conclude that I was stupid for going to a cosmetic surgeon who I came to realize sometime after surgery was not listed with any of the twenty-four boards of medical specialists, ABMS. I didn't realize what Dr. Cutter's qualifications were when I went in for an initial consultation. I had learned from a woman who works for a board-certified plastic surgeon in the Pacific Northwest and answered my phone call that, "Cosmetic surgery is an enhancement of a person's appearance. Plastic surgery focuses on repairing and reconstructing possibly abnormal structures." I didn't know these facts and other revealing things about Dr. Cutter before surgery. Maybe I was being unknowingly naive at the time, but I thought I was being an honest and active realist in my pursuit for the right surgeon who could do exactly and precisely what I desired cosmetically.

Postsurgery I have learned that Dr. Cutter can reconstruct the face under his dental license, DDS; and under his MD, medical license he can practice plastic surgery. According to the staff member who answered my call to the MQAC, Dr Cutter "has a general anesthesia permit under his dentistry." I also learned postsurgery that "a medical doctor does not have to be board certified in the state of Washington to practice medicine."

Postsurgery I gradually came to realize that I had been royally ripped off cosmetically and financially by a cosmetic predator.

Years before I went to see Dr. Cutter, who I found out postsurgery was a doctor of medicine, MD, and a doctor of dental surgery, DDS, as a dentist, I had a woman who worked for a prominent plastic surgeon in the Pacific Northwest inform me that when it came to plastic surgery, you want a double-board plastic surgeon. A board-certified plastic surgeon sent me an e-mail saying, "doubled-board means certified in two specialties: general surgery and plastic ophthalmology and plastic ent and plastic reconstruction surgery." Regretfully I had forgotten all about that good advice. Dr. Cutter was not the board-certified plastic surgeon who was listed with any of the twenty-four boards of medical specialties that I needed and was searching for. Unfortunately I also found out postsurgeries that Dr. Cutter was not the board-certified reconstructionist that I wanted for my specific facial feature needs. I learned postsurgeries that Dr. Cutter is double-board-certified, but he is not a specialist in the nose and ears, as the American Board of Medical Specialties' true surgeons are.

Years later, I again went on a quest for the right surgeon for me. The approach Dr. Cutter (not his real name) took with me was just like that of a smooth-talking salesman who did not want me to focus on what I was about to purchase. A slick car salesman doesn't want you to think about how you are going to make your payments, nor does he take the time to get to know you personally as an individual. If he is only interested in advancing his salesmanship status, he probably won't invest the time to find out your likes and dislikes in searching for the right car just for you. I assumed that if Dr. Cutter couldn't do what I wanted and needed for my cosmetic interests, he would be considerate enough to refer me to a more qualified surgeon, but my assumption was wrong because Dr. Cutter had his own cosmetic plans and vision for my facial features.

I had had previous surgeries for my nose, ears, and chin, so I was very particular about finding the right cosmetic surgeon for myself. Prior to having any surgeries, I had seen an ad in the yellow pages regarding how to find the right surgeon for your cosmetic needs. When I called the phone number, the young woman who answered told me that cosmetic surgeons and plastic surgeons are basically the same, and so I started on my quest for the right surgeon for me.

The reason for my book is that I care about people and I would like to save hopeful cosmetic consumers the mental anguish and the painful cosmetic devastation that I experienced back in the nineties.

During that decade I had my cosmetic dreams actually destroyed by a sociopath. He had told me only so much before the surgery, and he began to make up things subsequent to my multiple surgeries postsurgery. I realize now that I had met the wrong cosmetic surgeon, who never recognized my cosmetic wants or needs for my facial features. That is more than scary. It was a truly painfully devastating experience that began to plunge my life into a deep sea of bewildering questions, and it slowly began to destroy my self-esteem and self-image as a unique creation of God. Dr. Cutter was not the board-certified plastic surgeon that I was searching for, although he performed surgeries on my facial features in the nineties.

I watched a television program one day about plastic surgery. The narrator commented that every year there are ten thousand cases of cosmetic surgery that are unnecessary. I know for a 100 percent fact that my cosmetic fiasco was totally unnecessary, and I now realize that it was clearly a cosmetic and financial crime. I had concluded that my particular case was a cosmetic homicide, but for years I wasn't able to figure out what Dr. Cutter had done to plunder my cosmetic and financial business. I had repeatedly requested a new hearing with the Medical Quality Assurance Commission, the medical board that issued Dr. Cutter's medical license, MD, and the Dental Quality Assurance Commission, the dental board that issued his DDS license. The above commissions govern Dr. Cutter's licensing to remain in practice.

I had sent in a series of complaint letters to the dental licensing board, DQAC, and to the medical licensing board, MQAC, over a period of years requesting legal action to be taken against Dr. Cutter. I also requested a reconsideration for a new hearing against the medical doctor calling for his licensing to be revoked or for disciplinary action to be taken against him. I would be willing to post these requests on my website so that the readers may read for themselves of my plea for help through a new hearing, justice, and a criminal investigation and action to be taken against Dr. Cutter for his crimes committed against me. I became convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that medical malpractice and criminal actions by Dr. Cutter had truly been committed against me, and I wanted the iron will of justice to prevail against him. I assumed that after my complaints Dr. Cutter would be held liable for his cosmetic and financial crimes against me. I was absolutely wrong in my assumption.

I found out sometime later postsurgery when I happened to inquire of the Medical Quality Assurance Commission that Dr. Cutter wasn't even requested to respond to my complaint letters nor to the commission's inquiries concerning the approach that he had taken toward me. This medical doctor utilized piracy of my cosmetic hopes and financial business, and he wasn't required to explain his abnormal psychology to the review boards. Each year that I requested an investigation regarding my cosmetic case, it ended up with a denial of my request. I didn't experience a reputable plastic surgeon working on my facial features, but medical negligence, malpractice, and utter butchery by the wrong cosmetic surgeon.

I was robbed big-time.

Before anyone ever begins his or her search for the right cosmetic or plastic surgeon for himself or herself, they will want to read The Ultimate Violation. I, Kurtess Scone, am living testimony against a malicious cosmetic predator who had disguised himself as a caring medical surgeon.

The Double Mirror

I, Kurtess Lief Scone, grew up in Lupine, a small town in a region of the Pacific Northwest, with my family of six, consisting of one brother, two sisters, and my mother and father. My Christian parents' pastorate was a small work among the American Indian congregation at the Lupine Assembly of God Church. The Lord had blessed the Scone family ministry among the small congregation throughout the years.

My father, Benjamin, and my mother, Jessica, had me and my siblings dedicated to the Lord as babies for God's use and service. Jessica remembers how I as a young boy fell off the front-row pew being fast asleep and how I continued right on sleeping on the floor as the church service kept on moving. I showed a remarkable comfortableness in the house of prayer, and I never cried out whenever I would fall onto the floor.

Jessica learned from the doctor that I was born with a children's disease named rickets. In this disease, because of a lack of vitamin D or sunlight, the bones often are characterized by being soft or even bent. Jessica began giving me a bone-strengthening product called Bone Meal, which the doctor had recommended to help strengthen my weak bones by giving me the necessary chemical element of vitamin D that my young body needed to grow a strong skeletal structure. I had difficulties trying to walk as well as a child my age, and naturally my mother was concerned about the weakness caused by the childhood ailment I physically inherited. I found that it was difficult to walk until I was approximately three years of age. With the Lord's overseeing protection and the doctor's advice to use vitamin D supplements, I continued to grow into a healthy young boy.

I had a severe ear infection as a young child, and my mother prayed for me to be healed. The Lord Our Healer, Jehovah Rapha, reached down His gracious hand of compassion and healed me of my ear infection at a tender age. I have continued to have excellent hearing throughout the years, and I have not had a serious ear infection of this type since. My caring father and mother made sure that all of their children were prayed for, regardless of what ailed them at the time. As loving parents, they positively wanted their children to continue to have God's strong protection and divine health for their future well-being as well.

One day, the family stopped to see the nearby rapid-flowing Celway River and its large boulders. The rushing river was capped with white water, and as the Scone family was viewing the spectacular scenery, I went back to the car and crawled onto the backseat to go to sleep. When the family members couldn't find me anywhere, they became extremely concerned that I might have fallen into the powerfully rushing watercourse. To their surprise, they returned to the car to find me resting comfortably on the backseat without a concern for the greatness of the wonders of nature. After all, to me, getting some necessary sleep was a more important matter at the time than the family's interest in the great outdoors.

I discovered as a young boy that I took an interest in God's creation as a visible witness to nature's wonders. God's handiwork is clearly evident by the things that He has created, and I fully enjoyed the creatures that He had created. The Holy Bible tells us that we are fearfully and wonderfully made as God's marvelous creation.

When I was five years old, the Scone family moved to Clover Valley, the city where I was born. One warm summer day, as I was catching butterflies in a vacant field about five blocks from my home, a big bully stole the butterflies from me. It didn't matter to the larger boy that I had worked ever so patiently at catching the butterflies and had carefully placed them into a paper-cup bucket. The big kid decided what had belonged to me was now his to take. I was hurt by this act of aggression on the part of the adversary; however, feeling inferior due to my size, I didn't offer any resistance. I hadn't learned to fight for what rightfully belonged to me.

When I first moved to Clover Valley, I slept downstairs in the basement along with my brother, Daniel. One night, I found that I needed to go to the bathroom. Still new to the home, I made the trek up the basement stairs, turned to the right, and opened the door, ready to take aim to fire in the hole.

Unfortunately, the hole was in our living room coat closet. My mother, Jessica, caught me just in the nick of time and quickly took me down the hallway to the bathroom on the right. I wasn't aiming to displease when I took aim at the wrong dark hole. I was still foggy from sleep, and I needed a motherly hand to lead me down the hallway to the right watering hole or thunder mug. I never had another problem with finding the bathroom from that day on.

One day I decided to catch honeybees that were buzzing around a honeysuckle bush next to my family home. I was successfully catching the honeybees and placing them into a glass jar until I got stung on my arm by one of the insects. I removed the stinger and was willing to have another go at catching honeybees for a while longer. My mother asked me what I was going to do with the honeybees. I told her that the bees were going to make honey for me and that I was going to make some money.

As a young boy, I never did make any money at catching honeybees for a living, but I know that certain people are successful at making money raising honeybees in beehives. I have enjoyed having a peanut butter and honey sandwich now and then throughout the years. I recognize that pure honey goes well with a lot of things.

During my boyhood, I enjoyed having pets in my home. My mother bought me a turtle that I liked to play with after school. I also enjoyed having a multicolored parakeet that the family named Pretty Pete. I looked forward to coming home after school and spending time trying to teach my parakeet to talk. I would talk to him in his cage, and also in the restroom in front of the bathroom mirror.

I was able to teach Pretty Pete to say, "Pretty bird." Pretty Pete grew accustomed to riding around on my shoulder inside our home. When I worked on my homework after school, Pretty Pete would come flying down and land on my pencil as I worked on my assignments. Pretty Pete liked to land on the family table or land into my bowl, and I would keep right on eating my cereal.


Excerpted from THE ULTIMATE VIOLATION by Kurtess Lief Scone Copyright © 2012 by Kurtess Lief Scone. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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