Listen I didn’t have breasts to begin with. I was an A cup on a good day and I’m a tall woman. I breastfed my kids for 6 weeks then gave up so it’s not like they did me much good in that department.
When I was in my late thirties I got saline implants. First thing I can remember that I did for ME. One deflated when I was like 45 so I got silicone implants. Mastectomy 7 years ago and another silicone implant.
I think God is picking on me.
I’m supposed to decide on nipple sparing mastectomy which I’m not so sure about seeing as how the whole point of a breast is to deliver to the nipple, but my husband really wants, which tells me the other one is as ugly as I thought.
I’m supposed to decide on implants vs belly fat reconstruction. Belly fat sounds hideously painful but has less complications with readiation which I have no idea if I’ll need until after the mastectomy.
Now what the hell qualifies me to make those decisions? Last time I decided something about my breasts I decided to just cut the one off because my mother would have had a double, and see how well that turned out.
The whole thing feels alternately unreal and absolutely hilarious.