Dear husband recently underwent 40 salvage radiation treatments (IMRT), and each time he had to lie on a table with a hard plastic “bodycast” resting on his nether parts, his tush exposed. The mold was supposed to help the computer target the right spots.
Lucky for DH, his rear has been crafted to perfection by years of “stairmastering”. I would have died of embarrassment if I had to display my dimpled flesh.
Many times have I gloated about DH’s glorious gluts. So when I thought about the nurses and technicians getting to see this for free, I was a bit resentful. (Really!) I told dear husband:
“I will ask the hospital to ‘reverse the charges'”.
This phrase is a bit antiquated, so I’ll explain that it means “Let them pay us.”
And then there was the issue of who gets to keep the bodycast. I insisted that DH bring it home. It’s his property, after all. And I wanted to put in where it belongs: in a piazza in Florence or Rome. His posterior for posterity.
A couple of weeks ago, around the time of my birthday, dear hubby came home from work and handed me a plastic form with markings all over it. It looked like something a dressmaker might use. Or part of a mannequin. In any case, creepy.
He told me, “Here’s your present”.
I was taken aback because I was expecting a big bouquet of flowers, like last year. So I could only stammer: “Wha-aa-t is this?”
Well, you guessed it: It was the bodycast. Over time I have gotten friendlier with my little “butt-man.” He stands beside me now, keeping me company. The “sculptors” at Sloan Kettering can’t afford to make mistakes, so I must acknowledge that this is indeed a perfect replica of the original derriere. Ergo a masterpiece.
And I got the flowers, too.
Here is a precious story about DH: Once, when he was a little boy, maybe 3 years old, he saw a man with a package standing in the doorway. He could hardly speak, but he walked over to the guy and managed to blurt out: “Deliveries to the rear.” Of course, everybody laughed.
Even back then DH liked order. Well, as life would have it, he got his “deliveries” to the rear.” But not in the way he intended, I’m afraid.
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