I don’t know nothin’ from fake boobs.
This needs to change. Since I’ll be having a single mastectomy next month, for the eight following months, I’ll be wearing a “mastectomy bra” and “breast form.” I have just learned the scientific terms for these items, which will be necessary so that matching lady lumps fill out my clothes and no one can guess that I’m one short of a full rack. Never mind the baldness and the fact that the whole county is aware of my breast cancer. The topography of the chest matters.
Aware of this upcoming need, I gave my insurance company a call to see where I should start shopping. I don’t do malls very often, but I think I would have noticed a “get your fake boobs here” store, and I’ve never run across one. The insurance guy (yes, it was a man…first bad sign) was 100% clueless.
Me: “I’m looking for information about where I should buy a (gulp) breast prosthesis.”
Him: “A what?…”
Me: “A breast prosthesis. You know, a prosthetic breast.” (I’m trying to be descriptive without blurting out either “fake” or “boob.” I figured a medical insurance rep would know what I’m talking about.)
Him: “A prosthesis. Right. Got it. Let me look it up…the supplier of prosthetic devices closest to your home is ABC Medical Equipment. Then there’s Acme Medical Equipment, followed by Zenith Medical Equipment.”
I know all these places. They sell wheelchairs and bedpans. Maybe they sell wooden legs. But they definitely do not sell fake boobs. All the places that sell fake boobs are named something lady-ish, like “Charlotte’s Shenanigans,” or “Nikki’s Knickers.”
Me: “We’re talking about a breast prosthesis here. You know…a fake boob. Something to fill up my bra after my breast is cut off because it has cancer.”
So yesterday, I went shopping. The store is called “A Private Affair,” which sounds scandalous and a little delicious, which a fake boob is definitely not.
More on this to follow.
“Listen to advice and accept instruction, and in the end you will be wise.” Proverbs 19:20