Moore 'attempted' an abdominoplasty on me in June of 2010. Every single morning when I get dressed, I am forced to think about her and the disgusting and deplorable surgery she 'performed' on me. I look as though a two year old performed my tummy tuck...and that is giving her more credit than she deserves. On top of her obvious lack of skill, which is showcased on my body, her bedside manner is beyond atrocious; her lack of heart is almost worse than her lack of skill. Never in my life have I had to beg to be seen because I was in an extreme amount of pain, never in my life have I had to walk into the back of a doctor's office and pull the first the person aside I saw in order to have a stitch removed that was admittedly overlooked and causing me pain, and never in my life have I been told I had to wait a month to see the doctor for said pain.
When I confronted her, via handwritten letter, about one (out of her many) incredibly obvious error (my left and right sides did not match at all), she first said it was my 'hip bone' and when I told her that bone does not jiggle, she admitted she made a mistake in a voicemail message she left on my husband's phone (not mine, but his). Yet, she did nothing to repair that error and made no effort at all to fix any of the other mistakes she so clearly made.
I wanted to get the abdominoplasty because I had two children who left me with an incredible amount of abdominal skin and I was mortified and insecure about it. She promised me that I would be happy and because of her confidence, I believed and trusted her. To this day, I would rather have the extra abdominal skin that resulted from my pregnancies, than look the way I look now.
Bridgett Moore did a disgusting, reprehensible, and mortifying job on me and told me I should get over it because 'you're still tiny girl, you're fine'. My sides are still uneven, my belly button isn't centered and looks like a cat attacked it, I have a flap where she stopped her incision on my right side (which she oh so professionally called a 'dog ear'), and I am scared so ridiculously that my underwear and my jeans don't even cover it. Not to mention the hideous bumps throughout my abdomen, that while she agreed they were there, she (yet again) refused to fix because 'you're still tiny girl, you're fine'.
Doctors are supposed to be trustworthy...I wouldn't trust Moore with the care of a catus, let alone a human being. And if I was allowed to give ZERO stars, that would be the rating I would give her. Almost three years later, and while I'm sure she has long since forgotten about me, I am forced to think about her on a daily basis.