I sat on the vinyl exam table in a paper gown that rustled every time I breathed. My husband stood nearby, looking at a shelf full of breast implants beside him. He wandered over and picked one up, rolled it in his palms, and then raised his eyebrows in what could only be described as awe. I laughed. “Seriously?” I asked him. “What? I’ve always wondered what they felt like.” Then he put it down gently and sat down in the corner, grabbing the nearest object that could serve as a distraction — a