Not that you need more proof I was a total Stripper Cliché, I am here to tell you, I had breast implants.
It’s been a few years since I had the bookends removed, but I still think of those salt-water funbags from time to time. I am devoting a whole chapter in my book to the experience (Breast Implants, the early years).
As I write my chapter, I thought it was fitting to share one of my first posts here.
This is a true story.
In my late twenties and new in town, I’m completing the obligatory first-timers paperwork in a doctor’s office. I circle yes or no to the usual questions, turn in the clipboard and return to my seat.
After a minute or so, I am asked to approach the reception desk.
I circled ‘yes’ after “Have you ever had implants?” adding, “1990-2003” on the paper. I wish words could describe the looks I received. Scrub Divas wanted answers.
With the shrug of my shoulders and a pat on my back for honesty, I said, “the novelty wore off and I was pretty much done with them”.
I suddenly witness simultaneous head-tilt-with-a-smile faces on four soccer-mommyesque medical assistants.
I can’t remember what happened next, but eventually it was concluded that I misunderstood the question and we all shared a room full of laughter.
The doctor I was visiting was a dentist.