I went to Nordstrom for my boob fittings yesterday, and it was a pretty enjoyable experience, actually. Mom came too, and took me out to lunch afterward at the Nordstrom café. The first bra I was given to try on for size (34 B, for those interested in such things) was the classic granny bra, also the classic mastectomy bra. Enough said. But I gamely let the fitter put it on me, and indeed it seemed to age my upper torso by about 50 years. One nice thing about getting prostheses and mastectomy bras at Nordstrom is that they have an excellent alterations department, though, and “pocketing” is free on any bra in the store—meaning they’ll stitch in a pocket for my accessory boob (which keeps it from migrating my toward my throat throughout the day). So the fitter, about my age, looked at me and said, “Um. I’ll be back.”
When she returned, she had several bras that looked like something a 30-something would be comfortable wearing, as well as an awesome halter top bikini. I ultimately decided on something very similar to the bras I’ve worn before, two black and two beige, then I tried on the swim top.
I was suddenly very, very happy about the smallness of my remaining boob. For one thing, it’s not all that noticeable when I don’t stuff the right side of my bra (N.B.—I do recognize that it’s winter here, and I spend most of my time in thick sweaters and down jackets or vests. The one boob thing might be a tad more obvious in the summer . . . which is actually a good thing about our upcoming plans . . . more on those soon . . .). For another, my body isn’t totally out of balance (one of the reasons for wearing a prosthesis is to keep the body balanced—over time, even a small boob can cause muscle shortening and structural problems). For a third, my boobs are the size that fit entirely within the fabric part of the halter top—both my real boob, and my accessory boob.
I tried on the bottoms, too, a low-cut bikini with metal loops on the sides, but it was cold yesterday and I was wearing black long underwear under my skirt so I just took off the skirt and tried on the bikini over my long underwear. I had taken off my boots, too, but had orange knee-high socks with pink and blue polka dots on, pulled up over my long underwear. Hands on my hips, I looked like a superhero, but one or two clicks off from the paradigm. More like a sortahero.
I’d been referring to my upcoming prosthesis appointment as my trip to get press-on boobs; it turns out they do, in fact, make them. They’re very sticky, and have these strange bumps on them, like magnified gecko feet (or so I imagine, never having seen a gecko foot, although geckos stick pretty well to things). You have to wash them every night, though, and that is absolutely not something I can see myself doing. I don’t wear my contacts mostly because I have to clean them when I do wear them.
Anyway, it’s a bit soon to wear my real accessory boob (more healing is necessary), but I do have a lighter-weight foam one to play with in the meantime, which is also good for exercising because it doesn’t get so slippery as the silicone.
In all, a good day.