David was a little amused as the surgeon drew on his flabby female chest with a permanent marker.
"We'll cut into the nipples here, and this part of the breast. Once we've removed enough tissue we'll stitch it back together."
David was overwhelmed with joy at the thought of "removing tissue". Thank God, he thought.
"You understand breastfeeding is often difficult or impossible for women who've gone through this procedure. On the other hand, it's hard to know for sure."
The thought of giving birth was so alien and insane to David that he hadn't even thought of breastfeeding. He needed these disgusting growths removed. Whether he had kids or got pregnant someday (yuck) was not his concern.
He woke up sore and drugged-out. Instead of a lightness on his chest, it was wrapped tightly and felt strange and uncomfortable. At least it didn't hurt yet.
In the ensuing weeks he felt the soreness. His breasts were bruised and leaked pus and blood. But they were lighter. They were finally lighter. After a few weeks he looked at his new post-surgical body in the bathroom mirror. His breasts looked Frankenstein-ish. His pubic hair had grown out. But he felt better than ever before. He was finally a girl who could exercise. For the first time in months, he cried not from sadness, but because he had hope.