I have officially lost over fifteen pounds on the chemo diet! Sadly, I think my hair accounted for half of that.

Speaking of hair, I managed to keep my eyelashes and most of my eyebrows. Unfortunately, my right eyebrow hasn't shed evenly and there's a bald spot in the middle. I tried to cover it up with a little eyebrow combover, but if any more falls out, I'll need to upgrade to an eyebrow toupee.

With all these ongoing changes, I can't even consider having my dress altered until after the final dose of chemo. However, that didn't prevent me from accompanying my mom to her dress alteration appointment. I had the honor of helping her with her bustier, the most dreaded female undergarment since the chastity belt.

In between stabbing Mom with pins, the seamstress mentioned that I, too, would need one of those dreaded devices. Since I couldn't talk my way out of it, we decided to go bra shopping after lunch. But not just any bra shopping, spiffy boob measuring store recommended by Black Mamba bra shopping!

Our chauffeur was less than enthusiastic about the idea, so Matt decided to reconnoiter the new Microsoft store instead of getting measured. His loss. I, on the other, found out that I'm really a size 32D. Wait, what? ME? My stupid uppity boob and the other one? Are that big? Okay then.

I ended up getting an obscenely expensive bustier, and I have to admit, the darn thing fits perfectly. And besides, I can't wear just any undies under my wedding dress. After all, I don't want to scare the dress and risk it running away while I'm trying to walk down the aisle.

If I wasn't feeling so crappy at the time, I would have bought the equally overpriced matching panties. I guess I'll have to return to complete the set. It's for the gown's sake, I swear.