Smaller Tits in Sixty Seconds

Remember my favourite catch phrase? Come on, it’s from Boob Retrospective, Armpit Wig and Top Ten Reasons Fighting Breast Cancer Isn’t All Bad. I’ll give you a hint, it’s the No. One Reason. Well today we had the converse, or should I say concave. Which is virtually what’s happened to my newbs.

Just to recap, if you missed my last post (Deflated), I had to get some of the saline taken out of my expanders so they can get the right angle when giving me radiation and thus avoid zapping my left side, which does not need to be treated.

Boy am I psyched the flat look is in. And that I have a relatively small ass so that my latest (unwanted) physical adjustment doesn’t leave me looking too imbalanced.

In the military we call this sort of thing a Temporary Pneumatic Setback or “TPS.” Sort of like SNAFU (situation normal: all fucked up) but shorter. Although SNAFU also applies. FUBAR (fucked up behind all recognition), TARFU (totally and royally fucked up) and BOHICA (bend over here it comes again) also apply. I could write a whole post about military acronym slang and how it is applicable to my current situation. HOOAH.

But I need to get back on point.

Candy Floss (if you don’t know her read Zero), Bill and I went to the appointment with my plastic surgeon this morning. Yes, it was a menage à trois (à quatre if you include the surgeon… and à cinq if you count the nurse). I discussed matters with him for a couple minutes and then it was down to business and he and the nurse stuck those needles in there and sucked out 120 ccs from each “boob.” When they were done I looked down and my girls resembled half full plastic baggies. Not a great look, but really kind of funny. I couldn’t help but be amused.

Undeterred, I whipped a padded bra out of my bag and put it on. Not terrible. And just think of the instant weight loss! I’ve heard you can lose even more in an office visit if you saw off a leg though.

Then CF, Bill and I exited the building and took ourselves to an early lunch. I wore my “rubber” leggings as well to give edge to my ensemble. I figure if I have pink hair and rubber leggings no one in their right mind will be focusing on my tits, or lack thereof. The two of us together on Marylebone High Street must have been a sight. Oh, look, there goes Lady Gaga and her conservatively dressed lawyer friend out for a bite at Le Pain Quotidien.

Speaking of which, do you realise that I have been to that particular LPQ (I’m into acronyms today) with my own hair, with Gabriella (my other lover — oh please — read Armpit Wig if you don’t know her), bald as a cue ball, with a scarf and now with Candy Floss? I wonder if the staff there recognise (it’s plural in England) me or if they think I am five different people. They probably just think I’m a “right nutter” (this means a real weirdo but you could have guessed that couldn’t you?).

And I can live with that because I kind of am. I mean my kids are so used to my weirdness that they let me leave the house bald or with pink hair. And they aren’t even embarrassed by me. Which is kind of great, isn’t it?

I had a great rest of the day. I bought two groovy t-shirts at agnès b (one with an octopus and one with other sea creatures including a lobster). They look good now but there is room for more boob for later as well. Stylish and practical.

Then my friends Susan and Donna and I and Agnieszka took the girls to see The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe in Kensington Gardens. It was a terrific show with a great set (tee hee — I said “set”). A circular stage and there were creatures done up à la Lion King, people flying through the air on wires and singing, you name it. We were there with about five hundred British school children because the Brit schools are still in session through some point in July.

Then we hopped on a bus and took the kids to the Hard Rock Cafe. I hadn’t been to an HRC in ages. Check us out. Here I am with my groupies.

When I got home I looked at my flatter self. Not so bad, really. I think I could really kill it with this look for the next month and a half or so.

I just hope it was enough so that they can get their angle. The scan tomorrow will tell all. Send me and CF good vibes. We need ’em. Because if it didn’t work and they have to deflate and delay again I might have to go AWOL.

 

 

 

 

5 thoughts on “Smaller Tits in Sixty Seconds

  1. Well, now, actually you look remarkably terrific…especially with the pink hair. I mean, why the H…not? Not everyone can pull it off, buy you, my dear, definitely can. xo

  2. Wow, even “temporarily deflated”, you and CF are BITCHIN’! It’s so cool that you’re rolling with the punches and coming out blooming with humour (this blog made me LMAO, probably waking up my neighbours, but I don’t give a shit about that right now). You look fantastic and you’re setting a precedent for fellow cancer survivors with your wonderful, detailed and amazing blogs. You ROCK! XOXO

  3. Works for me. If I saw you on the street-I’d think you were in a band. And to pay the bills you teach yoga. Really, you look good-

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