Who said life was a piece of cake?

One day someone will ask me how I got the scars on my breasts. What will I say? Of course I can tell them about my brush with the big C but I could also say:

I decided to have major surgery and have a breast reduction.

But I would prefer to say:

Oh when I was a surf babe I had run in with a shark, I came off better, you should have seen the shark after I’d finished with it.

After this double whammy operation I didn’t just wake up with beautiful new tits, there’s a whole lot that happens after. For starters there’s making good to be done after the operation and all the radiotherapy. To help my breasts heal there’s several times daily massage with aloe vera gell and rosehip oil.

I think of my chest being a triptych, my glorious breasts enclosed in a bra, kept safe. The bra is pantomime big and in a kinky kind of way it could almost be sexy. To keep me tucked up snugly and so the breasts can start to round out the construction is rigid. Down the front there’s a long line of hooks and eyes, as it hinges open I expect it to creak reluctantly.  But when it reveals the breasts, even covered in their map of red scars I am still shocked to see they are perfect and beautiful.

As the weeks have passed they have become mine again. But sometimes when I look in the mirror I still ask myself, just who designed them? Eventually after I’ve been exhumed from a peat bog and my tits are curated will there be a little sign below saying, breast reduction by baby face oncoplastic surgeon from his nubile period 2009-2013. Notice the stitched circular, horizontal, perpendicular slashes, typical of his signature style in the world of nipping and tucking. This style is believed to develop from his childhood interest in his sisters Barbie collection.

Or

Do the consultants just apply the Burda pattern templates to the breast area and bravely cut and snip away to come up with ‘approved’ tit shape.

What I mean is, who designed my tits, what’s their provenance, does a plastic surgeon develop a signature style, does he like sewing as a hobby, is he artistic, will my tits be considered retro in a few years time?

But really, when it comes down to it, it doesn’t matter because nothing tastes as good as being alive.