Yesterday's consultation with the plastic surgeon went really, really well. I liked the fact that I have really only one option for surgery if I choose (as I will) immediate reconstruction. That made life much easier. The advantage of a woman surgeon, too, was that she wasn't sweetly coy about the realities of my (self opined) Lara Croft physique... not enough fat/muscle to match the natural form but options for dealing with the implications of that later.
All of which reminded me of this daft joke...
A man walked into the lingerie department at M&S and shyly walked up to the woman at the till and said "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife"
"What type of bra?" the sales assistant asked.
"What type of bra...? You mean there's more than one type?"
"Look around," she said, gesturing to the sea of bras in every colour, size, shape and fabric imaginable, "there are only four types... Catholic, Salvation Army, Presbyterian and Baptist."
More bewildered than ever the man asked the difference between the for types
The saleswoman responded, "It is all really quite simple...
"The Catholic type supports the masses,
"The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen,
"The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright,
"And the Baptist type makes mountains out of molehills..."
It's Saturday, I'm sitting on the settee, I have to be silly.