A bigger what?

A friend IMed me to ask if I’ve lost weight because of my splint. With a diet of oatmeal, rice and soft foods, I haven’t really noticed. I feel the same. So I checked. It’s been two weeks and four days. I lost 2 kgs. I discovered I have cheekbones. My neck is longer. My slacks seemed to have stretched and become a bit loose. I’ve started to slouch again. Because my boobs have seemingly grown bigger.

I don’t see the big deal with boobs. As Julia Roberts say in Notting Hill, every woman has it! While other women pay so much to have a few more inches added to their chest, I wish the opposite. I had the bad experience of men talking down on me in college. And it was not because of my tantalizing eyes, but because I had cleavage. I try to avoid sales ladies who make it a point to announce the bra size all over the lingerie department because they don’t display such. I abhor knitted blouses and tight T-shirts. I have trouble fitting in RTWs meant for short women - who had smaller breast size. While other women worry about push-up bras, I fret when my nipples jut inside my blouse even with a bra. And I detest tenderness during my period. And being single and old, I also need a mammogram every six months to make sure nothing goes off-center. I have undergone minor breast surgery to have a lump removed 9 years ago. The ordeal required me to expose the upper body to a few nurses, one of them male, and to my male cousin who was then the surgeon. It was an experience I don't care to repeat. It didn’t hurt but it was not pleasant. Safe to say that I will probably provide good milk to my kids. I know I'm the envy of flat chested women. But at four feet nine and a half inches in height, I wished that God could have given me a bigger brain or a bigger heart instead of bigger chest. You can't have everything.