Trigger Warning - contains substantial references to mastectomy. I have researched quite thoroughly and all the relevant DNA quotes are authentic, and Florence's response to her cancer risks are those that Angelina Jolie faced.
In this story Florence is based on an American lady who discovered her Jewish ancestry and made the choice that Florence did, for the same reason. In my research I got to learn that Angelina Jolie had other options to breast reconstruction. There are many YouTube videos on the subject, with many supporting 'going flat'.
Incidentally Florence's post operation request is based on true life. I made the same request after a minor operation, due to outside difficulties.
Die hard Gilbert and Sullivan fans may squirm at the performance and mangling of the lyrics.
The Story So Far
I had 4some sex this morning and I am now meeting Florence (the woman I fell for last night) for lunch. She wants us to go naked at the Studland Naturist Beach, in part to show me off to her ex husband who parted in acrimonious circumstances.
The Story Continues
Lunch went well and Florence said that we should meet up with Margaret (my first client as a Male Escort and my pimp). Florence told me that Margaret was expecting us. As instructed, I left the half full bottle of wine to the waitress.
Margaret was indeed waiting for us. Florence said "I didn't want to spoil last night but I need to get something off my chest before we go to the nudist beach.
For fun I had a test of my genetic ancestry. It revealed I had a large percentage of Jewish ancestors. This came as a shock as I had no knowledge of any Jewish relations. But there was bad news. My Jewish DNA meant I had a greater chance of breast cancer than the average woman. What had been a piece of fun had become serious. I had a genetic blood test in the hope that I was one of the lucky ones who had the normal chance of getting breast cancer.
I was out of luck. The genetic test detected a faulty BRCA1 gene. That faulty gene meant I had an almost 90 per cent chance of getting breast cancer. I had to face up to this bad news. I had a stark choice. I had to decide whether to lose both breasts and live with a 5 per cent chance of breast cancer or almost certainly suffer from a life threatening cancer. Like Angelina Jolie I chose to have both breasts removed. Unlike Ms Jolie I didn't want to go on to have breast reconstruction. I decided to 'go flat' rather than have the risks and pain associated with breast reconstruction.
In my house I wear a tee shirt. When I go to the shops I wear clothes that make it look like I am wearing a minimiser bra.
However for special events, like the Studland Charity Ball, I wear 'falsies' which fit into specially designed clothes. The falsies were a size bigger than my pre operation 'Ds'. This isn't vanity. Women tend to get bustier with age. I had my falsies specially designed for me. The designer took all kinds of my breasts before I went to the surgeon.
Losing both breasts was the hardest decision of my life. But it also came with a hidden price. My husband was supportive of my decision in principle. But in practice he found it hard to accept that his wife would not have breasts. My breasts formed a large part of our sex life. Even me having falsies didn't seem to make any difference. He was remote and, though he tried hard not to show it, he was morose. The poor man tried his best.
Then one day he came in and announced that he had discussed the situation with a psychiatrist. He had come to realise that he couldn't face the prospect of me being breast-less. He also said he couldn't, and wouldn't, be responsible for me getting cancer and maybe departing this world. He still wanted me to have the double mastectomy.
He wanted me to go to his psychiatrist to discuss his feelings. I didn't want more drama. I gave him an ultimatum. Either give me 100 per cent support or move out. I gave him 24 hours to make his mind up. He didn't even need 24 minutes.
He went upstairs to pack the largest suitcase we have. I followed him.
I felt that he had wanted me to give him an ultimatum. I felt that he had engineered the talk to make his exit pain free for him. When push came to shove his promise to love me 'for better or worse' was empty.
I felt he has never truly loved me. I felt both anger at his duplicity and an overwhelming sense of loss. The previous day I loved this man, now I hated him. All my suppressed fears about the operation and our post op marriage came out in a torrent of abuse. He responded by telling me all my defects, real and imaginary. The most hurtful was that he had only continued being married to me for the prestige of having a buxom wife.
He told me that he had considered having affairs because he was so unhappy with married life."
Margaret intervened "I think you are getting off the point."
I said to Margaret "I was honest with Florence last night. Let her have her say. After all if it's part of who she is."
I said to Florence "Take all the time you need. The nudist beach can wait."
Florence continued "He told me that he thought of other women when he wanted an erection and when he wanted to climax inside me. He said he had long since lost the sexual urge to fuck me.
I was distraught so I asked what he felt the previous night. He told me that he thought of Brenda and had come thinking of the pleasure of spewing his sperm inside her.
Then he finished packing and said "I am so sorry. My solicitors will be in touch."
He went with the suitcase to his car. I was alone in a bedroom that he had fucked me whilst thinking of Brenda. I had never liked Brenda ever since she was Yum Yum. Now I hated her. She made no secret of her interest in my husband. But I never thought he liked her so much.
Then I noted that he had appointed solicitors already. This was another indicator of him wanting out. Now I faced going under the surgeon's knife and having months of post operative pain alongside the loss of a husband and the gaining of a legal battle.
Fast forward and solicitors are engaged in a dispute over about everything. It even seemed that I would lose our home. But I went to the hospital at least knowing that I had a house to return to.