“What size are you thinking?” the plastic surgeon asked.
I sat shirtless in the oversize, faux leather examining chair as he eyed the twin slits remaining on my chest four weeks after the mastectomy. I slipped a C-cup silicone breast prosthesis out of one side of the bra I’d worn into the office. “I used to be an A-cup. Can you match this?” He palmed the three-dimensional, triangular blob and then pressed it against one of my incisions, using the tips of his fingers to hold it in pl…
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Every nation ridicules other nations, and all are right. – Arthur Schopenhauer
fcm 2 2014-11-11 10:15:05.57