It should be a song. Because just as all men are not alike, and all boobs are not alike, some bras just make you look and feel better than others.
It's not only small vs. large-breasted women, though; it's women who have been through the cancer mill and come out with one or more boobs that don't look the way they did...and yes, the way they should, in some boob-utopia of the mind. I've been twisting and turning in that mill-of-the-mind for weeks now, waiting and hoping that the poor beaten-up boob will return to "normal" or some semblance of it, and slowly realizing -- not. It's not what it used to be, and probably never will be, and I'd better get used to it, and I'd better be grateful for however long I get to hang on to it (so to speak) at all, and do what I can.
As soon as I returned to work, I went back to wearing my bras. But it was a disaster unless I wore the loosest, maternity-like sweater and crossed my arms a lot. This made me so sad I obsessed about it during a few sleepless nights. Would I have to ditch my entire wardrobe,really? And no more cleavage, ever again?
Then one day I idly found a chat room on breastcancer.org and cyber-spoke to the ladies who happened to be on at the same time. I don't much like real-time chat, but they were great, a true example of people who help each other for the sheer comfort and pleasure of doing so. My thought at the time was that I would buy inserts (like falsies) to put on one side, and didn't know where to get them. The Ladies Online immediately gave me a link, and I bought some. But when they came, they didn't look the way I hoped, and they didn't help with the discomfort I felt when I wore my usual underwire bras. I think it was my daughter A. who advised me to go to a bra fitting store and get a special bra instead.
I was reluctant but willing to try, dreading the process and the results. No one had seen the breast naked except for medical personnel, and I didn't look forward to awkwardness and suppressed embarrassment. So I rehearsed what I'd say when I went into the Town Shop: "I'd like someone to help with fitting a bra, but I have a special situation. I had breast surgery recently." Oddly, I never got to the second sentence, because at the sound of "special situation," a young woman was called from where she was lurking at the back. I told her the deal and she just said sweetly, "OK, let's see." I took off the bulky sweater and bra, and then I knew she'd seen it and probably a lot worse many times before. "Wait here," she said cheerfully, and then came back with just the right bra. It wasn't a mastectomy bra or a modified regular bra, just an actual bra that doesn't have underwire to cut into my incision..instead it has double stitching and support and is shaped in such a way that when it's on, it's really not possible to tell that anything is different -- unless you're staring directly at my boobs, in which case why are you?
I could have kissed her. She was so unimpressed with my freakishness that I felt less freakish. And when I left the store she had also provided me with a lighter and looser version for sleeping (at least till I heal). Plus they weren't very expensive, as I'd expected. And since then I've worn just about any damn thing I feel like. So there. Thank you, Imperturbable Young Lady from the Town Shop, and thanks to the wonder we call The Bra.
Tomorrow is my important first visit with my old oncologist, Dr. L.
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