ASHAMED as I am to admit it, when I was told I needed a medical implant my immediate thoughts were not about its safety or reliability, but about its size.
My device – an implantable defibrillator designed to shock the heart into beating properly – was to sit under the pectoral muscle in my chest. I am rather skinny and didn’t want to look like I had a single, very conspicuous man-breast. The fact that the device was no bigger than a pack of playing cards was no comfort. Only after it was inside me and the swelling had subsided…
