Cancer Lesson #57: Sets don’t have to match.
Warning: If you aren’t interested in details about the after-effects of reconstructive surgery, you might want to skip this lesson.
I used to have a matched set.
You know – a matched set of them. Boobs, breast, tits, knockers, hooters, dueling banjos, marimbas. Call them what you like – I had a surprisingly symmetrical pair.
Probably because they were too small to be uneven.
Then came cancer, and my banjos were no longer dueling. Instead, one was trying to kill me. She left me no option but to cut her out of the picture. Or should that be out of the band?
Clearly, there’s no way you can remove a breast, replace it with stomach tissue, and expect it to immediately look exactly like the other.
Not that I was complaining. I was quite happy to wake up with two boobs, matching or not. It was one of the reasons I decided on immediate reconstruction using my own tissue rather than implants.
It was the right decision for me, which doesn’t mean it’s the right one for everyone.
Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised at the appearance of my new, er, marimba, even if it wasn’t identical to my other one. I was okay with that, though I wondered how my, uh, instrument would look when healed.
Dr. K said he could transform my asymmetrical beauties into a matched set.
I have to say he came close.
True, this involved having my new nipple tattooed so they were a similar color – that’s the TMI part – and I needed some touch-up surgery, which had been expected.
The weird part was that surgery involved liposuction.
On my breast!
Of all the places on my body from which you could suck fat, I never expected to have it taken from there.
Also, sometime after getting the tattooing done, I remembered that I’d considered, but decided against, getting a second tattoo when I turned fifty to match the one I got to celebrate my fortieth birthday.
Turns out I got one after all.
Life is bizarre sometimes.