Support and Lack Thereof

I'm into week two -- today's treatment was my sixth -- and 20% of the way through treatment.

Today, I ditched the underwires.  Any pretense of perkiness is past.  I am now the less-than-proud owner of two industrial -- that is to say matronly -- bras the colour and texture of Tensor bandages.  Murphy's Law being what it is, I'll be wearing one of these hot numbers when I am rescued from my next traffic accident.  No dates with emergency health care professionals will ensue.

But though I am inadequately supported by what my Mum would call my foundation garments, my amazing posse of friends are lifting me up in all the right ways.  My daily treatments are turning out to be a series of delightful social engagements, rather than an ordeal to endure.  The schedule for the next eight days includes:

• The Free Agent
• The Yank
• The Mogul
• Jockette
• Flygirl
• Pecos
• Spinner
• The BFF

That'll see me halfway done, which seems remarkable.  And at the end of it all, perhaps I'll host a 70's-style bra burning!