Robin quivers dating
ne day last May, shortly after a 12-hour operation that had surgeons flipping her around "like Cirque du Soleil" as they struggled to remove a grapefruit-size tumor and surrounding cancerous tissue from her pelvis, Robin Quivers finally discovered the limits of Howard Stern's sense of humor.She had woken up around midnight in a darkened recovery room, lying immobile for seven hours, listening to other patients' bells and buzzers going off, pondering possibilities.After a lengthy seclusion, where her only real contact with the world was the radio show and doctors' visits, she's just starting to get her life back.Yesterday was the first time in months she'd seen herself with a full head of hair – a curly, reddish-brown weave, to be specific.None of them took the news harder than Stern, who had threatened to quit his show if his broadcast partner of 32 years didn't make it."He cried like I've never heard a grown man cry in my life," says Schneidermesser.
They emerged every couple of hours to share increasingly dire forecasts with Quivers' friend Susan Schneidermesser, who passed on the updates via phone to Quivers' other friends."There was a freedom in knowing it doesn't matter anyway," she says."You know, I walked out and I was like, ' I'm still Robin Quivers no matter how I look.'" At one point, she claims, she ventured out in Manhattan looking so rough that homeless guys didn't bother asking her for money.This summer, she bought a new, seven-bedroom estate on the southern tip of New Jersey, a present to herself after all she'd been through.It comes with a private dock for her boat and jet ski (she loves the water, though she's never actually learned to swim), and the property has a dreamlike, serene beauty, from the flower-lined driveway to the unbroken open spaces of the ground floor.
On a clear and bright late-September day, Quivers is sitting in a big purple-striped chair in her second-floor office, where translucent cream-colored curtains let in the autumn light.