'Silver Clouds, Grey Linings'
Anoher day, another doctor. This time I am meeting the Big Cheese. The Head Honcho. The Mammary Master. This man rebuilds ladies like me.
He seems very nice. We exchange pleasantries. He likes Green Day and Muse. I decide he is ok. Time for the usual de-robe and inspection. He gets his tape measure out. I am used to this by now. I feel like a protagonist in a gun fight in an old Western, being measured up by the undertaker, just before High Noon. He asks me what my bra size is. I reply and he says "No, I think you are smaller than that." (I think to myself - That is not helpful mate.)
He shows me lots of "Before" and "After" photos. 90% of the ladies are large and well-endowed. I guess he doesn't see many like me. Now I understand. Reading between the lines, from his comments, I get the impression, as I am not very busty, that I don't need a bust. It is an inconvenience I can plainly do without.
We sit back down to discuss my 'options'. He draws lots of diagrams. He is very good at drawing. He must be brilliant at surgery. He determines that some of the surgical options will not be appropriate for me. I don't have enough excess fat/skin/muscle to do some of the procedures. Then he starts to talke about "Delayed Reconstruction". He says maybe I should consider just having the mastectomy and an explander implant in. And wait 9 months + for the recon."Until I know what I want to do" (I want my life back. I want my breast back. Complete. THANK YOU VERY MUCH). I stare at him blankly. This is not what I expected to hear. I fight the urge to stand up and punch him. That would not be good. I am not happy. He gives me a pile of literature to take home.
I drive back. The journey takes 2 hours on the M25. Highway to hell. My hip hurts. Real bad. I put the literature on top of the rest of the cancer-related pyramid that I am collecting on my dining room table.
I wish I was still in Skyrim. In Skyrim I was a dragon-born warrior who defeated dragons and was feted by kings. I had long blonde hair and a perfect body. I wore armour made of glass and ebony and steel. I wielded an axe with skill and a stilletto blade with stealth. I could kill dragons with a single shout. I did battle with trolls, giants and zombies. I was immortal. Invincible. Undefeatable. Why couldn't I still be in Skyrim. Skrim is safer than where I am now.
