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Byline: Sally Singer
The first time I hear the words vascular surgeon, I'm sitting at DB, one of those midtown bistros where impossibly thin people eat foie gras hamburgers. I'm with an impossibly beautiful friend who looks amazing in Tsubi jeans, and we're talking about our new babies-my third, her first. And then, shamefully and inevitably, we talk about something much darker, and indeed bluer: the veins that have suddenly popped up, hideously, on our legs. "Have you seen me in a skirt recently? Never," my friend says a tad bitterly. I confess to her that after my first child, I had a dermatologist friend give me a few saline-like injections-sclerotherapy-but ...