One month from today

I will be recovering from surgery. Not Major Surgery. Not minor surgery.

Just surgery. It’s elective.

And I’ve been debating whether to let this out, but I think it’s mildly interesting and therefore worthy of HedyBlog.
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What what what what what?

I’m having breast reduction surgery on November 15.
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WOW. Did ya hear that?

That was the collective scream of men The World Over: “NOOOOOOooooooooo!”

Hey, I can say it. They’re my boobs. And it’s true.
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Remember Nancy Kerrigan after getting cracked on the knee by one of Tonya Harding’s goons?

That’s what I’m hearing now.

“WHyyyyYYYY? WHyyyyyYYYY? WHyyyyyYYY?”

Sorry. I’m amusing myself here.
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“But Heather!" [Finally catches breath from uncontrollable wailing]

"WHY?”

The thing is, they’re way too big. They gotta go.

I have chronic back and neck problems. My chest hurts a lot of the time. If I’m not in pain, it’s just a sort of general discomfort that I’ve grown accustomed to over the past 25 years.

It’s long over due. And will make my life so much easier.
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“We’re going to Hooters for lunch, ya wanna come?” asks IT guy.

“No thanks,” I say.

“Right. Because if you walk in, the whole place would go silent and someone would whisper ‘Our Leader!’” says IT guy, cracking himself up.
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“Boob job, eh?” said Jim. “Well we can only afford one this year so should I start calling you Lefty?”
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You won’t understand this, but here it is: When you go through life with Freakishly Huge Boobs it changes everything.

People look at you differently. Well, they mostly look at your tits but they also make assumptions about you that are rarely kind or accurate.

I’m tired of it.
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“Why can’t you just make Jim’s hands bigger?” asked a neighbor at a bonfire Saturday night.

That was probably the funniest response I’ve heard yet.
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Of course, Freakishly Huge Boobs isn’t the technical term for what I’ve got.

“Massive in size.”

That’s how my surgeon described them in the letter to my insurance company. Nice, eh?

Thankfully, the insurance company agreed and the surgery for my Massive in Size mammaries was deemed “medically necessary.”
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Oh, poor big-boobed you. Boo-hoo.

There are starving, flat-breasted women everywhere who would be grateful for a rack like yours.

Not really. Trust me.

And I would gladly donate what's being removed to not one, but a whole slew of deserving women, should they come forward in the next few weeks.
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How does Jim feel about this?

Like a good bra, he’s always very supportive. He wants me to be happy and less self-conscious.

And after 8+ years of marriage, he’s kinda excited about getting his hands on some new boobs.
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I am listening to: Nothing
I am reading: Nothing
And I am: Counting down the days