Lately I have been back to the Breast Surgeons rooms. Two surgeons operate from this office. A beautiful place on the top floor with an outlook that stretches over lovely gardens, an impressive fountain, all the way out to the ocean. The waiting room is packed. Every seat taken. Mostly women, with the occasional man, looking incredibly uncomfortable, with nothing but women's magazines to distract him from why he is there. I look around at all the faces. Which ones are here for the first time? I'm now an old hand so I can tell. The newbies are ones who cannot make eye contact with you. They stare at the floor, or at their phones, some turn pages of the glossy mags that feature beautiful two breasted women. However they don't see the pages, their phones or the floor. They can't hear the mumbles of their support team, those who have offered to be there, to hold their hand, to drive them home...after. They clutch at their X Rays, Mammograms and MRI's with every ...
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