Can I See Your Asian Breasts?

On July 29th, I attended the hospital for a core biopsy.  I wouldn't wish that on anyone.  Ethel drove me to the hospital and my mom met her in the waiting room.  The doctor and the nurse were both lovely and understanding women.  That hurt way more than childbirth and didn't give me a beautiful gift of life in the end.  After the doctor got a sample, there was a loud "click" which they didn't tell me would happen so I jumped.  She said, "Got it!  It's a great sample."  I was so thankful that was over.  Then she said, "I just need two more."  Really thought I could have just died right there and then.  I was trying to distract myself by telling them of our Vegas antics, which was pretty hard to do with a doctor laying across your body and jabbing you with what felt like a six-foot needle.  I also said, "If I have to get a prosthetic breast, I'm considering something multicultural.  Since you've seen my bare breasts, I'm wondering if I could see yours to compare."  They were Asian.  They both laughed and said they'd not been asked that before.  Really?  Why do those things seem so obvious to me?  Needless to say, they politely declined.  When we got home, I had Ethel take a photo of my left breast, covered in orange antiseptic and a bandage from the horrible tests.  I decided I'd like to chronicle my journey in photos, as well as to write about my experience.  I just figured I wouldn't remember what my body looked like after whatever was about to happen to it.  Hmm...I wonder what Ethel's breasts look like.  Surely they're darker than mine.  I knew Ethel for a long time before I realized she wasn't just tan!  All that chana and tandoori chicken should have made it obvious, I suppose.