I think it is the 27th day in a row that I have not even dressed myself. I have been ill for what seems like an eternity. My only reason for getting out of bed today is to go to my doctor. I take a quick shower and then grab my clothes from the drawer. I always put my bra on backwards then swing it around so I can stuff my breasts into the contraption. This is never an easy task, but today it is quite a bit more troublesome. I twist the bra around again to check the size: 36II. Hmm… maybe I accidentally put through the dryer. I throw it down on the bed in disgust. Another hundred bucks down the drain. I grab my only other bra that actually fits properly and swing it around to clip the hooks. When I twist it back and pull the straps over my shoulders, the same thing happens as did with the first one. I just cannot squish the mounds into the cups. I am frustrated and late for my appointment, so I just wear it. I hate it because I have those two lumps that stick up and there is no way to make them disappear. Traffic is horrendous. I haven't driven in almost 2 months and have not missed it at all. I finally get to the plaza where my doctor is located and every parking space is taken. Can my day get any better? I see one space left on the other side of aisle so I speed up to go around and grab it. Just as I am about to pull in some jerk cuts me off and takes it. Of course, his face adorns a huge grin as he does it. Fifteen minutes later I find a space under a tree that is overflowing with pinecones. Before I even park, they are hitting the roof of my convertible and will most likely leave nice dents and sap on my white finish. I am now ten minutes late. I rush in the door trying to adjust my bosoms to deplete the two huge lumps spreading over my bra. The person in front of me does not hold the door so it smacks in my face. I reach to hold it open for the person behind me making my purse strap fall forward. Down goes my purse to the floor. As I am bent over picking up my tampons that rolled out, a gentleman, wait make that jerk offers his assistance. I gave him a nasty look and said, "No, I think you helped me enough already when you stole my parking space." He must be one of those bullies that can't handle someone sticking up for their self because he backed off like a hurt animal. I reach the counter where there is an older woman, probably in her sixties, talking on the phone. The conversation is obviously personal and I would expect would cease because she has a patient waiting, but no, that did not seem to matter to her. She was going on about someone cheating on someone else and how the world is not the same as when she was growing up. Duh, I could have told her that. I put my keys on the counter to distract her from the phone and I get a catty look, then she hangs up. "Can I help you?" she bellows in that raspy I have been smoking 10 packs a day for 59 years type of voice. I explained who I was there to see and she instructed me to fill out some paper work. This was not my first visit to this doctor so I did not understand why she was giving me all this, but I complied nonetheless. As I am trying to answer the questions on the forms, there is a woman sitting diagonally across from me just staring with that dart look. She was somewhere in her mid-thirties, trying to look much younger in her low hip hugger jeans that she somehow peeled into. She almost reminded me of Peg Bundy. She even chomped her gum like Peg. I get so annoyed that I begin staring back at her. Usually when I do this, the other person will look away, but not this witch. She just kept giving that glaring look. "Can I help you?" I finally blurted. "Oh, I am sorry, I was just wondering, 3000cc's? I was clueless. What the hell is this wacko talking about. I must have just had a blank stare on my face because she quickly retorted. "Your implants." She said in a voice loud enough for every person in the waiting area to hear. The room was now dead silent. It was like the world stopped just awaiting my response. I froze for a brief second trying to muster up a witty response, "I don't have implants, but if I ever decide to, I will be sure not to use the same doctor you used." The woman gasped then looked down. She did not say a word. The office started whispering once again. I just finished my paperwork with a smile on my face and feeling of vindication in the pit of my stomach. A door opened behind me and a young girl called out my name, or at least a bad version of it. I gathered my stuff and followed her to the examination room. She instructed me to change into my gown and then she quickly disappeared. The exam room was frigid. It is like they are preparing your body for death or something. Or they are afraid you might spoil if you were to get too warm. Why are the walls always adorned with nasty foot disease and bad decay of organs? What happened to flowers or waterfalls? The doc makes a quick rap at the door and then comes in. He smiles like we are having a friendly cup of tea or something. He goes through the usual routine and then asks if I have any questions or concerns. "It is possible for my breasts to keep growing at my age (not that I am old or anything)? My bras are not fitting and they feel heavier." He looks at me for a moment, almost puzzled, then says, "It is normal to have some swelling before your menstrual cycle, but I doubt you are actually growing. Is this causing any pain or problems for you?" "Well, (laughing) my pain is paying a hundred bucks for my bras and my problem is finding clothes that fit, but, no, not actual pain." "I just paid 8 grand for my wife to have your problem. I wouldn't worry about it as long as you are not experiencing any pain or severe discomfort though." "Yes, but your wife is probably a C or a D, not an I." "An'I,' are you really that endowed? (while staring at my sweatshirt). "Yes, I am and I am afraid soon I will be a 'J' or a 'K'." The doc just kept staring at my chest not saying a word. A minute later he gives me my instructions for a follow up appointment and sends me on my way.