Update: I have new boobs! They’re squishy and they don’t look like two baked potatoes!
I had surgery yesterday, February 4th, which coincidentally was World Cancer Day. Honestly, I have no idea what World Cancer Day is, soooo let’s skip talking about that. Plus, I’m very aware of cancer and its effects so I don’t need some government awareness day to tell me that I need to educate myself about cancer. K BYE.
My surgery was to remove the tissue expanders (bagel boobs as I call them) and replace them with silicone implants. So yesterday started at 5:00 am when I rolled out of bed, hopped in the car with Jeff, and went to the hospital. I was excited and nervous too. I kept having flashbacks of the mastectomy and the pain that I felt after that surgery and I was scared I was going to feel that way again. That pain was a 10. Eh, no it was probably more like a 12. It fucking hurt and I was afraid that this surgery was going to hurt like that too. (spoiler: it DIDN’T!) I’m not going to recount the surgery because that’s boring. If you really want all the juicy in depth deets, just send me a message. But I will give you my surgery highlights:
1. When my plastic surgeon asked if I wanted “circus boobs.” My surgeon is a cool guy, his name is Chance and he is ex-military and he has a good sense of humor. Before surgery, he was marking my bagel boobs up with a sharpie and our joke is always that he’s going to give me giant ridiculous boobs like Dolly Parton so I can join a circus in a traveling freak show. Hmmm… new career move?
2. When the nurses are required to ask if I’ve done any drugs that morning. Yes, prior to my surgery I smoked crack with a homeless man in the parking lot.
3. When I laid on the operating table and they put the gas mask over my face and I yelled that it wasn’t working.
Me: “I don’t feel anything! I’m not asleep yet, ahh don’t operate.”
Nurse: “Just keep breathing, take a few deep breaths.”
Me: “I’m trying, It’s seriously not working” **Takes a few deep breaths** …And goodnight.
4. When the nurses try and have actual conversations with you in the recovery room. Like, what? I just barely opened my eyes which I literally can’t even focus on your face… why are you in the middle of telling me some story about your aunt who is BRCA+ but never got cancer. Chill. You and I both know I’m not remembering this conversation. Sorry nurse friends — are you all supposed to do this? To make sure my brain didn’t turn into a fried zucchini?
5. Coming home and getting waited on. My boyfriend Jeff has been great. Amazing, actually. He is sweet and patient and would probably go get me anything I want. Chipotle burrito bowl and a side of Chick fil-a nuggets covered in hot fudge? He would go get it. But I don’t abuse his niceness, so I settled for some good old Kraft Mac-n-cheese and a Percocet. Mmmmmmmm. Cheese. Mmmm Percocet.
6. My sweet new Velcro mastectomy bra. Be jealous. It’s the Croc’s of bras.
7. Cancer free boobs that look normal again! I apologize if I didn’t make this clear before. But I am cancer free. I was told I was cancer free after my mastectomy which was on June 29, 2015. BUT I did all the chemo and other stuff just to be extra sure. Because there may have been a few stray cancer cells lurking in my body, doing shady shit like selling fake Louis Vuitton bags and exotic animals on the black market, but we caught those bastards faster than an episode of Dateline. So now I am cancer free and I have new, slightly bigger boobs! I went with a D cup size, which was a little bigger than my natural size.
For all those interested, I’ll post some post-surgery pictures next week. I can’t take my bandages off until Saturday so for now the new girls are wrapped up like a mummy. And I will be wrapped up on my couch watching HGTV and Bravo all day with my snoring, farting dog (he’s a frenchie) and my hairless cat (she got her hair shaved and she looks ridiculous).