Bring me toys |
The stitches came out pretty
smoothly with the help of a tall strapping nurse named Kevin. He told me that
he’d just been transferred to plastics, which became obvious when I opened my
gown. ‘Wow!’ he said enthusiastically, ‘Those are beautiful!’ Apparently, for both of us, nipples
were still a novelty. ‘Who made these?’ he asked, as though admiring a rare
diamond. 'These are MARVELOUS.'
After the stitches came out,
Kevin rebandaged me. As usual it was gauze, nipple protectors, more gauze, all
held on with cloth tape. The ‘protectors’ themselves were nothing fancy. Dr. H
had created them by cutting off the bottoms of a small plastic pill cup. Frankly
– I expected more sophisticated technology from Toronto’s finest hospital, but
they did the trick, and were Dr H’s parting gift to me.
Nipple Protectors. Mistmatched. |
That night it was a relief
at night when I could take off all my bandages and take my boobs bed. Luckily
I’m a back sleeper, so I was confident that no harm would come to my fabulous
nips. I took off my plastic protectors and set them on the dresser.
At about three in the
morning I heard a little scratching. I turned on the light. Eddie, our 20 lb cat, was sprawled
lazily across the dresser, his giant paw resting atop my nipple protector. I
got up to grab him, but he jumped down from the dresser, apparently taking his
new toy with him. I was too tired to look for it, and fell asleep with the
sound of happily playing under the bed.
The next morning I could
only find one nipple protector. So I put it on. Then I went to the kitchen and
took the lid off a bottle of Perrier, put that on the other side, and covered
it with tape. I figured the missing item was probably down a vent, or in a shoe
somewhere.
But luckily it was the only
thing gone missing, and my new nipples were still safely stuck on me.