In this post I will see how many words I can substitute for the word boobies.
When you go into hospital with heart problems you'll have your chest examined multiple times by various strange doctors, who try to break eye contact as they cup your left breast and give it a squeeze. Dudes you'll get this too.
One uncomfortable, very small doctor tried to look everywhere but my bangers. I was tempted to shimmy until he cracked and ran away screaming.
I almost asked my partner to bring in my nipple tassel collection so I could dress up for my chest exams. See if anyone actually noticed!
To begin with I wanted to just curl up and die. It did not help that the first doctor started off with the ever immortal line of 'It's nothing I haven't seen before madam!' YES IT IS! These are my honkers and you are a stranger. You haven't seen mine before sunshine.
He didn't call afterwards either...bastard!
It was titties out every morning while in hospital, as I had to have regular EGC tests done. I'll explain in a bit more detail what an ECG actually is.
The ECG (Electrocardiogram) consists of a number of little pads (electrodes) stuck to your chest, arms and legs, with wires that attach you up to a machine that measures your heart rate and checks the hearts rythum too.
After 5 days of strangers looking at your goodies your sense of shame just dissipates. My top would be off as soon as the nurse started walking towards me. This did catch me out once when the poor nurse was just bringing me my medication.
When you have the Echo-cardiogram (ultrasound of the heart) again it's lady lumps out...this time covered in jelly while a huge, rude looking implement gets pushed across your chest.
I have never felt more exposed or drained than that week, stuck on a hot and cramped ward, while being dressed, undressed and squeezed by strange men and women. At the same time I did come out feeling rather liberated. I shall explain why.
Last week I went back into hospital for another Echo, norks out and one of the nurses walked in while I was getting dressed. She looked shocked and apologised profusely, while I brushed her off cheerily and told her not to worry.
After she'd left I realised I'd been standing there talking to her with my fun bags out. I didn't feel ashamed or embarrassed.
And today I was back in again having my ECG taken, and I had another mini ECG fitted to my chest so we can monitor my heart for the next 24 hours. I look like a really low rent Iron Man. I didn't squirm or feel uncomfortable when it was time to strip.
This whole experience has actually forced me to take a long hard look at my body...and you know what? I don't hate it.
Well....apart from my heart. That guy's a dick.
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