I Promised a Funny One

I've had six boobs.  No, seriously.  Six. 

I always wanted to be an overachiever.  No better way to beat my female rivals than to have more tits. 

I was flat-chested in high school (and college...and when I got married...). But if I could talk to all those high school boys who went for the well-endowed girls instead of me, oh man.  I would love to tell them, "She may have big boobs, but I have six of them."

Course, that's a bit of an exaggeration.  I've had six breasts, but not all at once.  It actually went more like - Two boobs.  Cut off two boobs.  Two new boobs.  Lost a boob.  Lost the other boob. Prosthetics.  Prosthetics suck.  Two new boobs. 

I've had six boobs.  But only two nipples.  Miss those babies. 

Yet, no nipples and implants means I haven't worn a bra in six years.  With a sheer shirt I wear one, but otherwise, no bra.  My tits are perky and have no embarrassing erect nipples. There has to be some perks to this disease.  (Ha, ha, "perks."  Get it?)

My brother, father, father-in-law, male cousins and male colleagues have stopped reading this blog, no doubt.  Hee, hee.  They're mortified.

I will admit that when I got the last set of boobs, I got a little carried away.  After I lost the second set of boobs and gave up on prosthetics, I opted for reconstruction - again. 

Through another surgery, the physician inserted expanders into my chest wall.  The expanders purpose is to slowly stretch the skin through weekly injections of saline into the chest wall.  When there is enough room to insert an implant, you then schedule another surgery to remove the expanders and insert the implants. It's like undergoing puberty in 6 weeks. 

The catch is, you can keep going every week and inserting more saline until you get to the breast size you like. 

Each week, when I would go on my lunch hour for saline infusions, I would return to work a different cup size than when I left the office.  It was like a crack addiction.  "Just a little more, Doc.  I just need a little more."  I told you.  I was flat-chested before the mastectomy. 

To this day, since I don't need a bra, I have absolutely no idea what size my breasts are.  I know they're bigger than before the mastectomy.  I know I wish they were a bit smaller.  Careful what you wish for.

I also know, if I had these boobs back then, I would have had a lot more high school boyfriends.  I would have attracted the " nice tits" guys, not just the "nice ass" guys.  Oh the problems...

Cheers to my plastic surgeon!



  1. You rock Abbie always looking on the bright side.♥️💙❤️😂


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