“Your breasts are very large,” the doctor said.
I was 23, halfway through my annual exam, and it took me a good half-minute to respond. I wasn’t offended, exactly. I liked my gynecologist. A man in his late 60s, he was attentive, pleasant, always willing to answer questions. Now, he was examining my double-D-size breasts and saying what I’d known since I was 12 but had never heard stated so matter-of-factly.