Today was the day I would have surgery. My nerves felt calm as I didn't ask any questions. Maybe in a way, I was afraid of what I would hear. As the nurse readied my IV I turned my head. I hated watching the needle go under my skin. The slow puncture was unsettling. After the IV was over I watched her inject different medicines through the IV. I don't exactly remember when but before long I was out like a light. 

I awoke after surgery to the nurse gently shaking my arm. The procedure was over and it was a success. She made certain I had a ride home. My friend waited for me as they brought me out in a wheelchair and tried to help me into the car. 

Still, in a haze, I had looked down at my chest. My chest was huge. I was certain I had gone from an A cup to DD.  Concerned, I looked at the nurse who assured me swelling was normal and I should be back to my regular self in two weeks.

The anesthesia kept me in a sleepy fog for most of the ride home. I'd move my arm and every now again under my breast I would hear a pop. Concerned I called my doctor once again. They had told me it was just an air bubble trapped in my chest and it would be absorbed into my body soon.

Maybe I was just too paranoid, but the fear they placed something inside me didn't go away. My chest was still large a week after and in three days would be my trip to see a friend. I didn't want to go with such an obvious appearance change.  I wanted my old self back.

Anxiously I packed my bags for the long trip ahead. The nagging feeling that something was wrong with me stayed in the back of my mind. I shouldn't worry too much. I had talked about the trip before my procedure and am sure I will be fine.

The days passed without incident but the sound from my chest would not go away. I had really hoped the air would be absorbed soon. I placed my bags to be checked by TSA and walked through their little monitor.

I heard a loud ding as they ran me over with a wand. Before I could register what was going on I was slammed to the ground. My incision wound tore with the impact and I was angry, in pain, and screaming profanities. 

I didn't care what they had to say. Their actions were uncalled for. The word bomb caught my ears. Did I hear that right? I stopped moving and listened. "Mama are you aware there is a bomb in your chest?" Horror flashed across my face.  By the time they had asked me it was too late. The beeping sound emerged and heat rose in my chest. It was too late. I would go down in history as a terrorist.