You know the worst thing about surgery? Not the procedure itself. Not the idea of going under general anaesthetic for the first time. I had prepared myself for that. The worst thing about surgery was not eating 7 hours before the procedure.

Seriously! This whole nil by mouth thing?

NOT A FAN!

“What are you doing the 5th November?” Nothing, why?

“What do you think of a bottomless brunch? Invite your girl friends. We can celebrate you and your boobs…” *Silence*

“…I mean, you don’t need to. It was just a thought. We could just have brunch anyway. I just thought…” Katie, I LOVE it!

“I hope everything will be ok.”

I was sitting on the bed next to Mum. She was holding my hand, and looking at the floor. I was getting teary.

I’ll get a free boob job!?

She quickly looked at me, slapped my hand, and I laughed. I had decided to tell her once the diagnosis had been confirmed.  It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

It doesn’t matter how many people you speak to about breast surgery, the fact of the matter is, it is personal.

You will get people who will give you their input. They will tell you what they would do. What they think would be best.

“Don’t you just want it removed?” I need to.

“It’s better to get it out ASAP.” Yep, I guess you’re right.

“Get the implants. You’ll get a great pair of boobs.” I guess.