Looking around the lingerie section at Nordstrom’s it didn’t take long to realize that they didn’t have any prosthesis on display. I was approached by a woman in her late thirties with long black hair that ran down her back. She had rosy cheeks and a sweet smile. She asked how she could help me. I looked around and once I realized that no one was in ear shot I responded.
"I had a mastectomy and need a prosthetic," I said in a quiet voice.
Not missing a beat she asked, “Did you have a single or double mastectomy?”
“Well, my story is complicated. I had a double, but I have one implant, so I really just need one. Do I have to buy them as a set.”
“No, not at all. You can purchase just one.“
She escorted me into the dressing room to the largest room in the back. Before going into the room she turned to me and said, “Oh, and my name is Angel.” I smiled and introduced myself. I thought to myself, what are the chances!? She ushered me into a room wallpapered in toile with luxorious seats. It was beautiful. My heart was beating fast and I wasn’t sure what to expect next.
She asked which type of prosthesis I was interested in while she listed off a few options. I shrugged and told her I had no idea since I had never done this before. She gave me a genuine smile and said, “I will bring back a few options for you to try.” Before leaving she asked if I prefered trying on the prosthetic privately, or if I wanted her help.
“At this point everyone has seen my deformed body. If you can stomach it, you are welcome to stay.”
“I understand and please know that I have been doing this for many years and have fitted many woman who have had mastectomies. I will take good care of you.”
She left and I took my clothes off. I ran my fingers along my incision and grew more anxious and nauseous. Looking at myself in the mirror was disgusting. In addition, I had huge bruises on the sides of my waist from the shots I was given while in the hospital.
Angel returned with a box and a bra. I stood infront of her with my single breast exposed and tons of scars and bruises. She never diverted her eyes from mine. She was amazing.
"I am going to guess that you are wearing a 34B … you should be in a 32C.”
“Really!?”
“Try this on and you’ll see.”
The bra she had brought me was a full-coverage 32C and it wasn’t an ugly bra either. It had beautiful lace straps and lace across the back. I put it on and it fit like a glove. She handed me the prosthetic and showed me how to position it inside the cup of the bra. Like putting in contacts for the first time, it took a little practice. She left to find a fitted t-shirt so that I could see how it looked underneath clothing. Once I had the shirt on I began looking at myself sideways in the mirror and admiring my perfect, curvy body.
“I don’t mean to offend you, but you look so young to have battled cancer.”
“That’s beacause I am. I found my tumor when I was 25.”
Angel shook her head and said, “It makes me so angry.”
I bought two bras and my left breast prosthetic that evening from a woman named Angel who treated me with the utmost compassion and understanding.
Angel walked me down the hallway to the escalator. Once we got there the tears swelled in my eyes and my heart felt so renewed. Angel put out her hand and I wrapped my arms around her in a full embrace. “Thank you for making me whole again. You will never know what your kindness has meant to me.” I pulled away and a single tear ran down Angel’s face. I will never forget her.
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