So after a week of rest, LOTS of napping, some dizzy/nausea attacks from not eating enough, some pain in the breast/armpit area and the worst constipation I have ever had, I am happy to report the worst (hopefully) is over. So now that you know how my body reacted to the surgery let's talk about the subject at hand, my fancy little new breasts.
They are TINY. And when I say tiny, I mean tiny for me. As a friend put it to me this morning, a C cup is nothing to complain about it. I am definitely not complaining about them because I do like them. I can't stop looking at them. I find that I am having a hard time keeping my hands off of them, and for a few reasons. Holy crap they are itchy. Like so itchy that I can't think of much else except how I would love to dig my nails into the skin and rake them back and forth in an absolute fit of ecstasy. The nipples have not only NOT lost any sensation but I swear to your higher power of choice, they have MORE feeling. And the breasts felt hard for awhile, almost like a bad implant, but they are beginning to soften up. And no, there is nothing in there except what my momma gave me. The most sensitive spot is still where the drainage tubes were but that is feeling much better as well. I have been able to sleep on my side more. Also, when I do (rarely) sleep on my back I usually have my arms raised up over my head. I woke like that this morning and I wasn't in pain.
The bruising has faded and some of the surgi strips are coming loose. After my post op visit next week and the dressings from the drainage tubes are changed or removed, I'm sure they will be looking good. But most importantly, they have made me feel good and that is really what this is all about.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Phase Two
Surgery was about three hours. I was asking P about my recovery because there is not a lot I remember about that two and a half/three hour period. I was in and out and I hate that feeling. There is nothing worse to me than trying to be in control and there is something getting in the way of that. That's one of the reasons why I won't get drunk anymore. Anyway, I was laying in recovery, floating in and out of consciouness. P said he wasn't allowed to see me there so he hung around and waited until I was in my room. P also said I was awake when he came to visit me in my room. I don't really recall that either. It was all blurry. I remember being super hungry and very, very nausous. My first nurse of the night, who was so amazing and kind, got me a pukie bag and chicken soup. I think she brought me ginger ale and crackers before that, but again, it's all kind of blurry. The sip of soup and gingerale/crackers combo didn't agree with me at all and it came right up. This is nothing new for me. Every time I get anesthia I throw up. I decided to try and sleep and slept until about 10:30. I turned on the tv to see if I could see the score to the Celtics game, had some dry toast and slept. I was woken by the night nurse around midnight for my vitals. It was a long sleepless night. I threw up one more time and had the loudest talker (shockingly louder than me!) down the hall and I was also in some pain. The next morning I actually pounded my breakfast of bacon and eggs and coffee, blessed blessed heavenly sent from your higher power of choice COFFEE.
I thought that I may have had to go home with my drainage tubes. Drainage tubes, you say? Oh yes. Long skiny tubes that were wound up inside my new tiny ladies and were attached to a bulb of some kind. The night nurse drained them once. Two doctors came in and checked the output level and decided to take them out. I have had a catheter before when I had the kids so I thought it would feel similar to that sensation and it did. It burned a little. The strangest sensation was that I could feel them moving inside the breast as they were being pulled out. The doctors dressed them and that was it. The spots where the tubes were are actually the most sensitive part of the whole breast. I was seen by a couple more doctors, my plastic surgeon included, and was allowed to go home before noon. My doctor informed me that I needed to be wearing my surgical bra at all times (except, obviously, when I was showering). I was sent home with a prescription for percosets and one for an antibotic. I was taken down to the entrance in a wheel chair but when I saw P pull the car up I walked out on my own two legs. I felt a little weak and cold but other than that I was fine. I got car sick (no throwing) on the way home but I get car sick 99% of the time I am in a car and not driving.
The kids greeted me tentatively at the door. I went right up to bed and slept for while. I could have taken a shower but I felt crappy and just wanted to sleep. The first night home was rough. You need to sleep propped up and I am a side/belly sleeper. I was up every four hours like clockwork. I took a percoset every time I was up and that helped. Sunday morning I ate a very light breakfast. Even though I was hungry I had zero appetite. I had a shower, so happy to shave my armpits and wash my hair. It wasn't painful to lift my arms, something that I had anticipated, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn't happen. I rested all day and the kids were great about being gentle. I didn't take any more of the percs during the day. I managed the pain with Extra Strength Tylenol. I did take one Sunday night to sleep.
Monday was more resting and another shower. I didn't bother washing my hair. I still hadn't had a bowel movement and I was becoming increasingly anxious. I was farting an obnoxious amount. After I had the Little Man it took me quite a few days to go and when I finally did, it was worse than child birth. The amount of apple sauce, fruit, dried apicots, stool softener, water I consumed was disturbing. My stomach was as hard as a rock and it certainly wasn't my abs of steel. Monday night was an uncomfortable sleeping night but I wasn't about to take another perc because I was determined to poop. After a restless night and a lot of hard work, we had splash down Tuesday morning.
Uncomfortable doesn't cover how it felt. I was farting all day and had some major stomach cramps. After dinner I spent the next hour and a half in PAIN and trying to go again. I was in tears at one point and my son was in the bathroom with me rubbing my back. Pooping in our house is a family affair. I went to bed, the kids snuggled as gently as possible, and we read stories. I went to bed and woke on my side.
So this brings us to today. I woke up with some pain in my right armpit. I took off the sports bra and let the girls air out a little. I took a shower, shaved, washed and dried my hair. I feel like a whole new gal! I have been taking it super easy today. The tender spot is no longer sore. I took some Tylenol at 9 am and it is past two now. The most sore areas are still where the drainage tubes were. I have complete feeling on every part of the breast. The surgi strips and dressings are still in place. I have a follow up with my surgeon on the 8th.
It is very strange for me to see myself with these little breasts. They are cute. They don't rest on my belly or flop into my armpits. Any back/neck/shoulder pain I used to have is gone. The straps on the surgical bra aren't digging into the skin on my shoulders. I went from having a left breast clocking in around an E cup and a right one coming in at a DDD to a perky C cup. I can't wait to see them after they have healed up. I am beyond thrilled that I can go BRALESS this summer. I can wear the tank tops with the built in bras and that's it. I can wear my cute summer dresses with the tiny straps and not have my giant bra straps showing. I can wear halters and backless dresses and not be in pain anymore.
I am feeling pretty good but I am determined to take it easy. I have a history of taking on more than I can and should do. I want to be able to go back to work feeling good. I want to heal so I can go back to being a mom and back to be being a (slighter hotter) wife. I am hoping to be able to start working out again sometime next week. Oh, and for those who may be wondering, I went into surgery at 149 lbs. I weighted myself after the initial big poop and I am down to 146 lbs.
I thought that I may have had to go home with my drainage tubes. Drainage tubes, you say? Oh yes. Long skiny tubes that were wound up inside my new tiny ladies and were attached to a bulb of some kind. The night nurse drained them once. Two doctors came in and checked the output level and decided to take them out. I have had a catheter before when I had the kids so I thought it would feel similar to that sensation and it did. It burned a little. The strangest sensation was that I could feel them moving inside the breast as they were being pulled out. The doctors dressed them and that was it. The spots where the tubes were are actually the most sensitive part of the whole breast. I was seen by a couple more doctors, my plastic surgeon included, and was allowed to go home before noon. My doctor informed me that I needed to be wearing my surgical bra at all times (except, obviously, when I was showering). I was sent home with a prescription for percosets and one for an antibotic. I was taken down to the entrance in a wheel chair but when I saw P pull the car up I walked out on my own two legs. I felt a little weak and cold but other than that I was fine. I got car sick (no throwing) on the way home but I get car sick 99% of the time I am in a car and not driving.
The kids greeted me tentatively at the door. I went right up to bed and slept for while. I could have taken a shower but I felt crappy and just wanted to sleep. The first night home was rough. You need to sleep propped up and I am a side/belly sleeper. I was up every four hours like clockwork. I took a percoset every time I was up and that helped. Sunday morning I ate a very light breakfast. Even though I was hungry I had zero appetite. I had a shower, so happy to shave my armpits and wash my hair. It wasn't painful to lift my arms, something that I had anticipated, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn't happen. I rested all day and the kids were great about being gentle. I didn't take any more of the percs during the day. I managed the pain with Extra Strength Tylenol. I did take one Sunday night to sleep.
Monday was more resting and another shower. I didn't bother washing my hair. I still hadn't had a bowel movement and I was becoming increasingly anxious. I was farting an obnoxious amount. After I had the Little Man it took me quite a few days to go and when I finally did, it was worse than child birth. The amount of apple sauce, fruit, dried apicots, stool softener, water I consumed was disturbing. My stomach was as hard as a rock and it certainly wasn't my abs of steel. Monday night was an uncomfortable sleeping night but I wasn't about to take another perc because I was determined to poop. After a restless night and a lot of hard work, we had splash down Tuesday morning.
Uncomfortable doesn't cover how it felt. I was farting all day and had some major stomach cramps. After dinner I spent the next hour and a half in PAIN and trying to go again. I was in tears at one point and my son was in the bathroom with me rubbing my back. Pooping in our house is a family affair. I went to bed, the kids snuggled as gently as possible, and we read stories. I went to bed and woke on my side.
So this brings us to today. I woke up with some pain in my right armpit. I took off the sports bra and let the girls air out a little. I took a shower, shaved, washed and dried my hair. I feel like a whole new gal! I have been taking it super easy today. The tender spot is no longer sore. I took some Tylenol at 9 am and it is past two now. The most sore areas are still where the drainage tubes were. I have complete feeling on every part of the breast. The surgi strips and dressings are still in place. I have a follow up with my surgeon on the 8th.
It is very strange for me to see myself with these little breasts. They are cute. They don't rest on my belly or flop into my armpits. Any back/neck/shoulder pain I used to have is gone. The straps on the surgical bra aren't digging into the skin on my shoulders. I went from having a left breast clocking in around an E cup and a right one coming in at a DDD to a perky C cup. I can't wait to see them after they have healed up. I am beyond thrilled that I can go BRALESS this summer. I can wear the tank tops with the built in bras and that's it. I can wear my cute summer dresses with the tiny straps and not have my giant bra straps showing. I can wear halters and backless dresses and not be in pain anymore.
I am feeling pretty good but I am determined to take it easy. I have a history of taking on more than I can and should do. I want to be able to go back to work feeling good. I want to heal so I can go back to being a mom and back to be being a (slighter hotter) wife. I am hoping to be able to start working out again sometime next week. Oh, and for those who may be wondering, I went into surgery at 149 lbs. I weighted myself after the initial big poop and I am down to 146 lbs.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Phase One
Alright kiddos, I had a bilateral breast reduction surgery on Friday, January 27th. There has been a lot of build up leading to my surgery because this is something I have wanted for quite awhile. I wanted to post something the night before surgery but I was really anxious and excited and the words weren't coming out right at all. I figured I would be better articulating my thoughts and emotions after the procedure was done, after the anticipation, after the pain meds wore off. You can catch up with the pre surgery stuff in earlier posts.
The night before surgery I had to fast, which is probably my least favorite part of surgery. Seriously. I love to eat and I NEED my morning coffee. I ate a pretty substantial dinner, put the kids to bed, checked on some last minute things for the kids. I had to remove any and all piercings (I have a few in my ears) and remove any nail polish. I was exhausted and went to bed on the earlier side. I woke up and P and I got the kids ready for school. I took a shower and washed my hair knowing that it could be quite a few days before I would be able to wash it again. I did one last big poop and knowing that it would be the last one for few days, I savored it. Yes, I savored dropping a deuce.
I needed to be at the hospital by 10 am to prep for surgery that was scheduled at noon. We headed into MGH and for once we were crazy early. After about 20 minutes I was called in by the nurse who started all of my pre surgery paperwork. I was in a room and changed into a hospital gown, robe, compression hose and non skid socks. While I was waiting for P to be brought up I was kept "entertained" by the insane couple curtained off next to me. I love listening to townies talk. Paul came up and we watched "Supernatural" until a CNA came up and brought me down to what seemed more like a closet than a prep area.
I was brought down into the what reminded me of a hospital basement. I immediately assumed that I was going to be brought down, hooked up to an i.v. and then left to die at the hands of a serial killer/homicidal ghost. Obviously, neither happened. Instead I had a great nurse talk to me about my health history, allergies, blah blah blah. The anesthesiologist was a guy with a thick Chinese accent and a great sense of humor. That guy inserted that i.v. needle with a stealthiness I could really appreciate. I was asked by the nurse if I had been marked yet. Since this was my first foray into plastic surgery I had no idea what that meant so I said, "Marked? Like, marked by the Beast?" We had a good laugh but she checked the back of my head under my hair for good measure.
My doctor came in and began marking me. He asked if his Resident could watch. I told him I wasn't that kind of girl anymore but I figured it would be okay one last time. At that point I think my breasts had been looked at and/or touched by a dozen or so people so really, a medical resident who would be watching the surgery anyway watching my doctor coloring on me was not a big deal. After I was marked I was instructed to lay back down and I was wheeled into the OR. The nurses in there were all so sweet and funny. I still wasn't nervous at that point and one of the women commented on how nice it was that I was joking and laughing. The nurses put some compression boots on my legs so I wouldn't develop any blood clots. I was given some oxygen and then my i.v. started to kick in. Bye bye old saggy heavy breasts. Thanks for the good times. See you on the other side.
The night before surgery I had to fast, which is probably my least favorite part of surgery. Seriously. I love to eat and I NEED my morning coffee. I ate a pretty substantial dinner, put the kids to bed, checked on some last minute things for the kids. I had to remove any and all piercings (I have a few in my ears) and remove any nail polish. I was exhausted and went to bed on the earlier side. I woke up and P and I got the kids ready for school. I took a shower and washed my hair knowing that it could be quite a few days before I would be able to wash it again. I did one last big poop and knowing that it would be the last one for few days, I savored it. Yes, I savored dropping a deuce.
I needed to be at the hospital by 10 am to prep for surgery that was scheduled at noon. We headed into MGH and for once we were crazy early. After about 20 minutes I was called in by the nurse who started all of my pre surgery paperwork. I was in a room and changed into a hospital gown, robe, compression hose and non skid socks. While I was waiting for P to be brought up I was kept "entertained" by the insane couple curtained off next to me. I love listening to townies talk. Paul came up and we watched "Supernatural" until a CNA came up and brought me down to what seemed more like a closet than a prep area.
I was brought down into the what reminded me of a hospital basement. I immediately assumed that I was going to be brought down, hooked up to an i.v. and then left to die at the hands of a serial killer/homicidal ghost. Obviously, neither happened. Instead I had a great nurse talk to me about my health history, allergies, blah blah blah. The anesthesiologist was a guy with a thick Chinese accent and a great sense of humor. That guy inserted that i.v. needle with a stealthiness I could really appreciate. I was asked by the nurse if I had been marked yet. Since this was my first foray into plastic surgery I had no idea what that meant so I said, "Marked? Like, marked by the Beast?" We had a good laugh but she checked the back of my head under my hair for good measure.
My doctor came in and began marking me. He asked if his Resident could watch. I told him I wasn't that kind of girl anymore but I figured it would be okay one last time. At that point I think my breasts had been looked at and/or touched by a dozen or so people so really, a medical resident who would be watching the surgery anyway watching my doctor coloring on me was not a big deal. After I was marked I was instructed to lay back down and I was wheeled into the OR. The nurses in there were all so sweet and funny. I still wasn't nervous at that point and one of the women commented on how nice it was that I was joking and laughing. The nurses put some compression boots on my legs so I wouldn't develop any blood clots. I was given some oxygen and then my i.v. started to kick in. Bye bye old saggy heavy breasts. Thanks for the good times. See you on the other side.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Car Accidents and Kittens
Car accidents happen. They seem to happen to me a lot when it snows. They seem to always happen when I am driving the truck to work on a Saturday. Snowstorms always seem to befuddle me and cause me to ignore the little voice in the back of my head that is screaming, "STAY HOME!!! STAY HOME!!! STAY HOME!!!" So I bundle up and jump in the truck. I put it in four wheel drive and slide out of the driveway. The voice is more insistent now but I choose to ignore it because I will be out of work for quite a few weeks and I don't have the "luxury" of paid vacations and/or sick days. I have the "luxury" of being able to take the time off for surgery and not lose my job.
So here I am at home after my accident. I'm on the couch, sore as hell, tired, anxious, pissed off. I am procrastinating calling the insurance agent so I can make a claim. That is a whole lot of crap I don't feel like dealing with. I would love to be getting ready for work and my car wasn't all busted up and my neck wasn't all jacked up. I would love to be getting in some extra workouts so I could be going into my surgery Friday in optimal shape. I hate to whine, I really do. Being negative and complaining takes up so much more energy than I care to expend.
So I am going to turn this around. I am taking that negative energy and pushing it away. I want it to dissipate out into the universe. I am going to sit here and breathe and set a positive intention for the day. If I can't psychically be in amazing shape, at least mentally I can be in a better, more balanced, place. If breathing doesn't help maybe these cute pictures of kittens will. xo
So here I am at home after my accident. I'm on the couch, sore as hell, tired, anxious, pissed off. I am procrastinating calling the insurance agent so I can make a claim. That is a whole lot of crap I don't feel like dealing with. I would love to be getting ready for work and my car wasn't all busted up and my neck wasn't all jacked up. I would love to be getting in some extra workouts so I could be going into my surgery Friday in optimal shape. I hate to whine, I really do. Being negative and complaining takes up so much more energy than I care to expend.
So I am going to turn this around. I am taking that negative energy and pushing it away. I want it to dissipate out into the universe. I am going to sit here and breathe and set a positive intention for the day. If I can't psychically be in amazing shape, at least mentally I can be in a better, more balanced, place. If breathing doesn't help maybe these cute pictures of kittens will. xo
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
What Rhymes With Anxious?
My surgery is just about a week away. While I am very excited to have the procedure done, I am becoming increasingly anxious. I keep thinking about the fact that I won't be able to work out for about 6 weeks, specifically, no yoga for about 6 weeks. Aside from the fact that yoga (in conjunction with coffee and zoloft 'natch) keep me sane, yoga keeps me limber and strong. Yoga keeps my weight low(ish). Yoga helps to flush all the toxins out of my system and reminds me to stop and focus on the breath. Yoga reminds me that I could, one day, be the complete person I want to be. And the fact that I won't be able to practice for such an extended amount of time is almost heartbreaking for me.
This impending absence in my life has lead to even more presurgery anxiety. And when I'm anxious, I eat. I am excellent at eating away my worries and sorrows. And of course, the foods I tend to binge on are probably the worst things for you. Chocolate, pasta, pizza, cheese, fruit, pastry, cake, ice cream. The last few days alone have been spent consuming my weight in things that could easily double that weight if I continue down this delicious path. I'm in panic mode. I am terrified of putting on a ton of weight and losing all of my muscle tone. I'm worried that I won't be able to get back into shape after I return to working out. These fears have taken a back seat to the fear of the pain, possible infections, the fact that I will look and very much feel differently about myself. But I can easily complain about not working out because that is tangible. And as superficial as it may be, it is easily understood.
Most people don't like to talk about the messy stuff (feelings) and I just want to put on a brave face for my husband and children. So I just stuff those feelings down with scones which will lead to me stuffing my fat ass into my soon to be too small jeans. But I will have a great new rack, and that's pretty good, right?
This impending absence in my life has lead to even more presurgery anxiety. And when I'm anxious, I eat. I am excellent at eating away my worries and sorrows. And of course, the foods I tend to binge on are probably the worst things for you. Chocolate, pasta, pizza, cheese, fruit, pastry, cake, ice cream. The last few days alone have been spent consuming my weight in things that could easily double that weight if I continue down this delicious path. I'm in panic mode. I am terrified of putting on a ton of weight and losing all of my muscle tone. I'm worried that I won't be able to get back into shape after I return to working out. These fears have taken a back seat to the fear of the pain, possible infections, the fact that I will look and very much feel differently about myself. But I can easily complain about not working out because that is tangible. And as superficial as it may be, it is easily understood.
Most people don't like to talk about the messy stuff (feelings) and I just want to put on a brave face for my husband and children. So I just stuff those feelings down with scones which will lead to me stuffing my fat ass into my soon to be too small jeans. But I will have a great new rack, and that's pretty good, right?
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Youtube? Don't you mean Boobtube!?
This is the second post in a series regarding my upcoming breast reduction surgery, which I am slightly obsessed with. When I called to make my initial consultation hadn't planned on being seen the following day. Because of the short notice, Paul was unable to come to my consultation with me. Because of this, I decided to search the internet, specifically youtube, for some visual aides. I found a ton of videos regarding breast reduction surgery from start (consults) to finish (the final unveiling) and I managed to find one that not only had a delightful British surgeon but was only about 4 minutes long. Paulie was pretty horrified by the whole thing. I had a very hard time watching some of these videos knowing that the woman on the table would soon be me. So this is for anyone who may be interested in getting this done yourself or for the morbidly curious. I want to warn everyone right now, this is NOT safe for viewing at work. It is also inappropriate for children and the squimish. xo tmfv
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EcXZ1fEnSeI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EcXZ1fEnSeI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
GrumbleGrumbleGrumble
I'm sick you guys. Like sore throat, cough, headache, all around feeling yucky sick. And I think I may be coming down with an ear infection. Or maybe strep. Possibly even the typhoid. I feel like someone put my head in a vise and that asshole keeps squeezing even though I asked nicely. I totally used my good manners but they won't stop. I know that you guys really don't care that I am under the weather. You're all like, yeah, so? We've all been unwell at one time or another but you don't see us blogging about it. Well, that's probably because I have a blog and you don't.
But seriously, this is cold and flu season. So just make sure you all cough in your sleeves, wash your hands and if you are sick, stay home. No one wants your germs. Stay away from babies and the elderly. And someone bring me some goddamn soup.
But seriously, this is cold and flu season. So just make sure you all cough in your sleeves, wash your hands and if you are sick, stay home. No one wants your germs. Stay away from babies and the elderly. And someone bring me some goddamn soup.
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