A – Z of Breast Cancer: PROSTHESIS

I find the word prosthesis difficult. It makes me think of Heather Mills McCartney and her detachable leg. It ‘creeps me out’ as the ten year old would say. A breast prosthesis is an artificial boob that fits inside your bra and replaces the missing one. It makes me think of those schoolgirls who shoved tissues down their bras to make themselves seem better endowed. It feels fake. That is one of the benefits of going for reconstructive surgery; you bypass all of this conflict. Lucky me. But then my reconstructive surgery was postponed and I had to get back to work. Well I couldn’t go with just one boob, could I? So they fitted me with a prosthesis. And you know what, it’s not half bad.

Of socks and softies

No one leaves hospital without some kind of prosthesis to put in their bra. In my case it was what they call a softie and I can honestly say it was about as effective as a rolled up sock. Not only that, it was edged with blanket stitch and my skin was so sensitive that every single stitch left an indentation. The boob looked like pastry that had been crimped with a fork, ready for the oven. Worse still, these ‘softies’ are fine so long as you don’t actually move, but just try exerting yourself and see what happens. They pop out and it’s red faces all round. I tried wearing my softie a half a dozen times or so, then I just gave up and covered up.

A bra at last

When I was finally able to wear a bra, the breast care nurse fitted me with a non wired, wide strapped, deep sided, full cupped monstrosity that you’d expect your granny to wear, and it felt just perfect. I knew I needed one of these I just didn’t know where to get my hands on one. All the bra shops I formerly frequented only seemed to offer skimpy, underwired, skinny strapped bras, so I was delighted with the nurse’s range of ‘old lady’ bras*. Once we had the bra sorted the nurse produced the prosthesis. A squishy silicone (I think) moulded form that fits inside the pocket of the bra. I believe these types of breast forms are similar to the chicken fillets some regular, double breasted women wear to give themselves an advantage. I’ve always thought the idea of stuffing chicken fillets down your bra so you can look like Pamela Anderson absurd and a bit of a cheat. What happens when you get the man these boobs have won you home? How does he cope with the disappointment? Imagine if men stuffed chicken fillets down their Y-fronts.Think how disappointed you’d be when push came to shove. Now that I am single breasted I feel justified in using ‘fakes’ and I don’t see it as artifice, I see it as an anatomical necessity.

I take it all back...

These fake boobs are brilliant. Or at least mine is. The bra and the prosthesis felt odd and a bit uncomfortable to begin with and the nurse advised me to ‘build up’ wear, a bit like getting used to contact lenses I suppose. This wasn’t really necessary as I soon adjusted to the feel and the weight of it but I suppose it’s a different story for large breasted women. For them the weight of the fake boob could be substantial and since it isn’t actually attached to your body, it could pull down and away when you bend over. Does this have implications for lymphoedema sufferers? God, there is so much to worry about. Apart from that, my final verdict on breast prosthesis is that while they are not perfect, they are really very good indeed. I can see why people just go with them and forget about further surgery.

*The breast care nurse did also give me a catalogue selling glamorous ‘mastectomy’ bras for that special occasion. I told her I wasn’t ever planning on having special occasions again, not ever. Never. And she said to me, ‘Do not close the door on opportunity.’
I'll think about it.

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