Dear Bionic Boobs,
I know you’ve been adjusting to your new digs since the reconstruction surgery seven months ago. I’ve protected you from wild elbows, supported you with a bra, and exercised you by smooshing you girls together. (Doctor’s orders.) You seem happy enough and pretty perky.
I do have some concerns.
One night, I looked down and you had wandered off to the sides of my chest. You left four inches between you two. I almost had a heart attack. I thought I’d torn something while vacuuming. As you know, I’ve started wearing a sport’s bra to bed to corral you at night, so I don’t wake up and freak out. I wish you girls would stick together.
Although you’re shaped like hamburger buns and aren’t huge by any means, you weigh more than my old boobs. In fact, you’re a little on the hefty side. The doctor suggested some exercises to build muscles in my back to keep from hunching over.
I thought I’d never need to wear a bra again, but apparently some of your sisters have sagged. I’ve been instructed to wear one when I’m active. Bummer. You’re a little wrinkly when you’re just hanging out, but I refuse to get a fat transfer. You’ll have to get used to that.
You look totally fake and I’m sure some people will stare and roll their eyes this summer. They’ll think I had a boob job. I can always wear this t-shirt.
I have noticed some very positive attributes since your arrival.
During ski season, your sacks of silicone acted like hot water bottles and kept me warm. I don’t know how that will translate during the summer. I plan to open the freezer door in the grocery store to cool you down before hitting the hot asphalt parking lot. You may work like refrigeration units!
My doctor informed me I wouldn’t play tennis like before my double mastectomy, but since I’ve been back, I’ve played better. It must be the new ballast your weight provides when using centrifugal force as I swing through the ball. You seem to put more velocity into every shot.
When wearing a bra, you do rise to the occasion and give me pretty nice cleavage. I can’t complain about that!
I’m sure we are still adapting to this new arrangement. You probably don’t like it when I roll onto my stomach. I felt a twinge of pain the last time. It gives me hope my nerves are waking up and you girls won’t continue to be numb.
I may never get used to the constant feeling of plastic sacks under my pectoral muscles, but I’m glad I opted for reconstruction. Even though you’re not what I expected, you’re growing on me.
Click HERE for first Boob Report in the series.
Thanks to Darla from She’s a Maineiac for the Open Letter idea.
The t-shirt is from Cafe Press