Oct 04, 2012 - 3:57 pm
I love stories that make me laugh. This is the funniest moment I have had so far in this journey. I posted this on my blog which has become a journal of a whole bunch of things and thoughts on this journey: www.ERtopics.com
For a number of reasons, I opted to only have the breast with the mass in it removed. I didn’t want a lumpectomy; nor did I want to go extreme and take them both off. Every woman’s decision is right for them. Although I remain quite confident in my decision, I never considered what I would do to create the illusion that I still have a pair. Enter the world of prosthetic breasts.
My spouse and I were at a downtown pharmacy and noticed a sign advertising prosthetic breasts. At that moment I had a rolled up sock in my bra where my left breast once was. I inquired about the ad and a woman, speaking in a hushed tone for unclear reasons, took us to the back of the pharmacy into a make shift room filled with shoe boxes. Only, the boxes didn’t have shoes in them – they each contained a fake boob. There were so many to choose from. Everything from cotton stuffed dropped shaped small pillows – like a really uninspired Beanie Baby – to high end silicone models that stick to the chest wall. Not knowing what to choose, I stuck with the plain Beanie Baby version. The store clerk felt up my good boob and then handed me her suggestion. I slipped it into the empty left cup of my bra, and we were on our way.
The next night, I stayed at my mom’s house. My mom has a wonderfully playful Manchester Terrier named Csaba who fancies himself a thief. Later after family dinner, I was walking to the kitchen and noticed tufts of fluff all over the carpet in front of the room I was staying in. Standing over the pile of fluff was a very proud Csaba with his tail wagging wildly, holding the shell of my breast. My mom and I tried to put my Beanie Boob back together, but it was never the same. We ended up going back to the pharmacy with the secret breast room and asked for a new one. The look on the clerk’s face when I answered her question of what happened to the other prosthetic was priceless! “My dog ate it”.
Every time I am getting dressed to go somewhere public, I put on my modified bra and adjust the left side until I can pass as having two real breasts. Still new to this process, I often ask whoever I am with: “are my ladies OK?” in a bid to make sure I don’t look crooked. As hours pass, there is a tendency for the fake boob to migrate over to the real one. This creates the interesting appearance of having one giant cyclops breast.
At some later point in time, I will get reconstructive surgery. Until then, I will have some fun with this situation. Maybe tomorrow I will go down to the local mall and walk into La Senza and tell the teenager working there that I would like to be fitted for a perfect bra. Instead of telling her the truth, I will tell her that I was born with one breast that is larger than the other. The teenager will likely say something she learned during her store’s training day: “Oh, don’t worry (chewing gum), that is common with women”. She will take out a measuring tape while I will struggle not to crack up as she frantically tries to understand what is going on. Ahhhh Cancer. Good times!