Yesterday I saw Surgical Spice again. This time it was just me and her. We had no nurses, no extra doctors, no hangers on. It turned out to be quite a giggle. She is thrilled with her handiwork and I have to say, I cannot blame her. It really is beginning to look rather good. In fact, I rather think it has moved on from its shoubsicle stage of development. We’re not quite at the fully fledged breast stage. We are really quite a long way off that. But we are heading in the right direction. Thanks to the enforced surgical ‘rest’ that chemo will give me, the next phase of my surgery will not now happen until I am done with the poison. We will regroup in the Autumn when I shall be rocking the slaphead look but will be busily regrowing hair and cells and all sorts. Just not cancer. I shall not be regrowing cancer. Just saying. But I am running ahead of myself.
There is something decidedly odd about having another woman handle your breasts quite as much as this woman has handled, and will no doubt continue to handle, mine. She complimented me on the softness, the shape and the general pertness of my newbie. And then went into raptures over my flap. I cannot blame her. It is rather sweet. In an Oh-My-Life-There’s-No-Nipple-There kind of way. That bit of skin is a perfect circle taken from my back. The Captain and I debated her technique one night. Did she free hand it with a scalpel? Possible but tricky, though Leonardo Da Vinci would have managed it. Or did she in fact, use a cookie cutter? My money is on the latter. This woman looks like she could bake a mean biscuit. However, I am not left with a hole shaped scar on my back. So there must have been trimmings? Perhaps they save up the leftovers and make a coat. Buffalo Bill could have had a field day.
The other slightly unusual feature of my perfect circle No Nipple Flap is that I disturbingly have a hairy back. My No Nipple Flap is covered in the lightest dusting of soft, downy hair. A bit like velvet, it is. Maybe it is as well I am about to be challenged in the hair department. I could very well be the missing link that completes Darwin’s theory of evolution and frankly, just now, I could do without the publicity. Besides, it turns out stroking the fur on one’s own fake nipple is not acceptable in any society. Ever.