25 October 2007

My Itty Bitty Titties



So, yesterday I wrote about how vain some people can be in the case of illness. I still stand by what I wrote, by the way. In fact, I feel compelled to write a post specifically about "reconstructive surgery" after mastectomy.

I've got itty bitty titties. 34A's, to be generous. At no point in my life have I ever contemplated implants, although I have been less secure than I am now in my womanliness because I lacked giant mammary protuberances. I've always scoffed at women who got implants because it was like they were putting a Band-Aid on a lost limb. They never thought about why they were doing it, and were always surprised when the world didn't magically turn into a perpetually sunshiney place. Well, duh. I could be rather smug about the love of my itty bitties, in fact, and I probably put a lot of people off.

One thing that has always bothered me, however, is the utter lack of unpadded bras in my size. I probably don't need a bra, but in my professional life I don't want to risk anything. But just try to find a bra with an A cup that isn't padded. There ain't any. So, I buy the padded ones. And try to have a sense of humor about the Nerf balls strapped to my chest. Apparently, someone out there, probably a man, assumes that women with itty bitties doesn't want to have itty bitties and would naturally want a padded bra. Okay, that's completely silly, but it's not the end of my world.

Where I get insulted is when women have reconstructive surgery after mastectomy. Nowadays, it's a given that women will have reconstruction when they have a mastectomy. From what I've heard, it's damn hard to convince your surgeon that you don't want implants, because, hey, why wouldn't you? If I came to the point where I needed a mastectomy, it would suck, surely. Physical rehabilitation must be a total bitch, and recovery has to be a hundred times worse than what I went through with my lumpectomy. But come on! You're not dead! Celebrate it!

Many women feel like they will lose their womanhood with their breast(s). Really? So, the fact that I have (basically) no breasts to begin with makes me a non-woman? Seriously? I have 20 years of menstruation in my past that would beg to differ, thank you. I'd never really thought about this until my surgery. I'd always loved my boobicles, because they didn't prevent me from moving freely, they were comfortable, and most of all, they were healthy. When I realized that they weren't healthy, I started to hate them. At least the one with the lump. My good friends, who I'd watched grow up, had betrayed me and tried to kill me. I was pissed.

But then I had my surgery, and follow up exams proved that I was cancer-free with no need for radiation or chemo treatment. Wahoo! So I can't understand how a woman going through such a life-threatening situation could be so focused on such a trivial part of her personhood. Honestly, before my surgery, I was all, "Hack those fuckers off! I don't care! Hack 'em off!" I don't identify by my boobicles. No woman should. As Twisty proves, you are still powerful without them, and you can still change the world.
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