Everything happens for a reason

So yesterday was one of those days that you know for sure that everything happens for a reason.....I have been making jokes around the place that I cannot find my breasts not knowing that the implants were truly lost .... my husband had called me in a panic saying 'Pat I've tracked the shipment as far as it can go - check with Dr. Arscott to see if he has gotten them if not you have to go to the general sorting office and clear them as they must have been shipped in your name...." well since that's what I didn't want to hear I did nothing but when I visited the goodly doctor last week I too started to panic as surgery is set for this coming Saturday the 29th and he told me no the implants had not yet arrived. I couldn't believe this as my stepson who is a plastic surgeon in Philly had confirmed that he had shipped them so I expected it to go as smoothly as when he had sent the expanders - he sent them to the Doctor and that was it.

Well no such luck this time so I decided that I would visit our general post office the next time I was in Kingston which was yesterday when I was booked to appear on the early morning TV show "Smile Jamaica" to do an interview about living with cancer. Well after the interview off I went to the general sorting office to what I thought would be certain hell but as usual I put a smile on my face and entered...well first thing was the man at the counter says ..."Is that the smile I saw on TV this morning?"....I said " same one , I'm here looking for my breasts"
and he said "and vibesy too".... by that time at least 3 women who had seen the TV show gathered around and happily set out to help but my breasts couldn't be located - they went upstairs, they went in the vault, they told me to take a seat - which I did (please bear in mind this is a huge place which has not reached the year 2000 yet ....I tried to count computers and reached the sum of 2 with one looking like a broken down TV ) finally my happy helpers broke the good news - the paper work was found, however, I needed an invoice, I needed a Tax Compliant Certificate(TCC) and most of all I needed a friendly face from customs as no TCC meant tons of duty plus the shipment turned out to be in the Doctor's name not mine .....they nonetheless persevered informing the customs officer "this lady is the vibesy lady from 'Smile Jamaica' this morning".....the goodly customs lady, however, broke the sad news - she couldn't let the breasts out without me going and getting permission from the Doctor to whom it was addressed. Well since I am in the year 2011, I whipped out my Blackberry and called the Doctor's office, made the arrangements with them telling them what the letter should say and that an ID must be attached and off I went to pick it up with the post office workers promising that as soon as I returned with the required documents they would release said package. Knowing Jamaica as I do , I knew that if I didn't make it back by lunch time a whole new crew would be in place knowing nothing about my situation so I had to move fast.

Thankfully letter as requested was waiting for me at the Doctor's office and so I quickly returned to the General Post Office where true to their words they pulled out of the mountain of packages, a box half my size that looked like it had enough implants in it for every woman at the post office not just me ....then they went through their routine of signing what seemed like endless ledgers (also half my size) and volumes of papers that could easily deplete all the remaining trees left in Jamaica .....So off I went walking out of the general post office the box with my new breasts in one hand, saying thanks and waving goodbye with the other I realized that I was crying........now what is that about?