"Thank you Dr. , how can I help you ?"
(laughing) "This is the question that I'm supposed to ask you !"
Further in the conversation I learned that I qualify for a breast reduction surgery. The drugs I'm bound to take from now on have documented side effects, gynecomastia being one of them.
Given that I already have a pronounced tendency, surgery might be the only viable option although long term results are far from guaranteed.
Finally no one really knows why men grow boobs. But they can be knifed-out if such is my desire.
At this point I was able to distinguish only shadows in the white fog of my impaired sight. That doctor was one of them.
Pity, I couldn't catch the face she might have pulled when I declared that I don't suffer from my boobs and their presence is the result of many years of caring efforts.
Yet her voice was a tell-tale sign of a patient-doctor relationship shifting into higher gear.
For a moment it was just two ladies talking boobs. One probably elegant in her white coat and the other, a fully qualified train wreck in a hospital bed, ugly scars over the head...
We now meet on a regular schedule. She monitors various analysis and fine tunes my prescription drugs cocktail.
"You know Dr., your elixirs are kind of working, I had a snug fitting of an "E" cup the other day."
(smiling) "Don't blow your budget on it, bras are not covered by the medical insurance in your case..."
Happy New Year Doc, your friendly smile and humor are worth truckloads of medicines !