ground control to rachel...earth to rachel...come in...over.: That ain't swelling

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

That ain't swelling

Spending days in a Vicodin induced haze really leaves a person confused and off kilter. I had to call information today to find out what day it was and JUST made it to my doctor’s office to have my stitches taken out. What transpired next still has me in a state of shock.

I was sitting in my light blue gown with the open side facing out, trying to modestly cover my naked body with the flimsy fabric to block out the goddamn air conditioner that was blasting cold air on me while rain fell outside. Are all doctors from fucking Nepal? Is there some reason why examining rooms have to be subzero temperatures? I just had a boob job, my nipples really don’t need to be perked to full attention thank you very much.

The good Doctor comes in and has me stand up and open my gown. Standing naked in front of men should be no problem for an ex-stripper of 8 years but it was about as comfortable as having my annual pap smear.

Looking up at the ceiling and over my shoulder at the painting on the wall, we discussed the weather…

“I can’t believe it’s raining after such nice weather this weekend.”

“Uh huh.” *not making eye contact as he pushes my breasts together creating cleavage that you could park your bike in.

*gasp*

*wince*

Girl walks in.

*wincing confused What the fuck look*

“This is Mary, she’ll be removing your stitches.”

*Great I get to be fucking guinea pig for Mary today.*

*Joy.*

“We squeeze the breasts together like this, put your hands here at the sides of the implants and push them together. You want to be aggressive and the patient will feel pain.”

In the meantime during his demonstration of torture, I am holding my breath in pain and my eyes are practically rolling back in my head.

“Then we push each breast up towars the collarbone. That’s right, straight up. Slowly and hooooold.”

*Getting dizzy.*

*Noticing under duress of torture that Mary’s kinda hot*

*Groan under breath*

*Am completely ignored*

Usually I might not complain about a hot guy and a hot chick feeling me up but in this situation, it was something more along the lines of some sick masochistic nightmare. Their hands were like levers of excruciating pain producing up and down pushing in and up, up and in, ohhh the humanity. I nearly fainted and when I thought I could take no more, they stopped.

*Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

“Well I am going to let Mary here remove the stitches and I want to see you next week. Any questions?”

“Um yes, when will the swelling go down?”

“You are doing great, the swelling is mostly gone already!”

“What? They're not totally swollen now? They are going to stay this big??!?”

“Just about. They will drop and settle a bit more once the implants become softer so keep up that massaging (ie Vulcan Death Tit Squeeze from Hell). They'll be a nice D. You look great.”

*He glides out the door*

*Dribble*

Mary removes my stitches and talks about her implants. Mary is worried because she got hers a year ago and never massaged them the way he showed her today. Mary hopes her implants won’t harden. She said they are pretty soft already so I got to feel them. That’s one great thing about chicks with fake boobs, they are always willing to let you feel them up.

So now I am faced with the reality that I have enormous fucking boobs. If the swelling is not going down notably, I am going to never again see my feet without leaning forward. I never again will be able to eat without hunching my back so I don’t dribble in my cleavage. I will never again have to wear a push up bra to summon cleavage. I will never again have to wear a bra if I don't feel like it in public. I will never again have to heave my chest out in futile efforts to confuse them so they don't notice my saggy boobs when I take my shirt off for a lover.

*grin*

I have big boobs.

Howitzers.

Canons.

*GRIN*