Tag Archives: growth

Boobies on the Mend: 3 Week Post Op & Reflection

Oh man. Where to start? It’s a long week or so.

Let’s start with my physical stuff. So, my right boob has been concerning. On February 2, my supervisor went to take her jacket off, turned and accidentally ‘punched’ me in my right boob. If you recall, my right boob required more reconstruction than my left and has been more painful and not exactly aesthetically pleasing. When this happened, it knocked the wind out of me. I didn’t really put 2 and 2 together at my 2 week post op appointment when the medical assistant questioned the new bruising on the 4th. At work the following day is when I realized the two were linked so I called my doc. The bruising progressively worsened and they wanted to see me the following week. I had my 3rd week follow up this past Wednesday day. He squeezed and manipulated my breasts. It was awkward since I don’t have feeling superficially to below my nipple. He told me I had 2 hematomas and that he could feel that an internal suture(s) ripped causing the bleeding. He needed to evacuate it! He stuck a 2 in. 18 gauge needle through my incision around my nipple and moved the needle around, pulled back on a 20 ml syringe trying to find the pocket. He got out 5 mls of dark red blood. Nothing else. He felt again and said he need to try again but would have to go through the breast. Eek. He attempted 3 additional sticks. Ouch. Although I have no feeling on the surface, I do have deep sensation. I started to sweat and turned ghost pale. He wasn’t able to get anything else out, sadly. He told me to just watch it and that it’d hopefully resolve. He was concerned regarding the possibility of infection. Since my appointment, my bruising has significantly reduced and the color is now green so I’m happy about that. His assistant called me yesterday to check on me and my doctor is still concerned so he has started me on a round of antibiotics. Better safe than sorry.

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Current boobies! Bruising is SOOO much better today! The itching has begun! 2/14

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Otherwise, my incisions are healing well, I’m sleeping better (no more night sweats), I’m rarely requiring tylenol and the tape residue is ALMOST gone. My incisions are so fine and I’m excited to see the end result. The only source of pain is still under my arms. Constant bending of the incisions and chaffing is sometimes unbearable! My doctor told me it was my compression garment so I’ve tried just sleeves. Nope. I’ve tried gauze. Nope. I’ve tried bandaids which have helped the most buuuut then they chaff my actual armpit. Ugh. The struggle. Now, I’m using zinc oxide (baby butt paste which is helping). My 4 weeks is Tuesday and I no longer have to wear my compression sleeves unless I want to! That’s exciting and no compression garments does feel best on my underarms. Although, I still don’t have feeling to my incision sites to about a quarter inch on both side of it so it’s a weird sensation. And it makes me paranoid that it’ll rub on somethings so I’m now wearing long sleeves and I foresee me wearing compressions at work this week but we will see.

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3 Week Arm Incisions are faint!!
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The arm crease is the most painful. Still numb on the underside of my arm.

 

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Exciting! I get to wear a bra!

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I had my first therapy session post operatively. It was much needed and very over due. I feel like I word vomited all over her the moment my booty hit the couch. I’ve been struggling. My anxiety has been on high. Feeling a bit depressed. Feeling upset that I’m upset. And isn’t that some shit? Not only to have these feelings but to, also, have feelings about the feelings. It’s a bitch! I’ve been missing Paul more intensely. I feel guilty. I feel alone. It’s all a bit over whelming really. In my session, I said multiple times “I’ve wanted this as long as I can remember and these feelings are absurd. ABSURD!” Her first response to me “how about you give yourself permission to feel the way you feel?” I sat back. Sighed. And thought ‘well isn’t that a novel idea?’ Ha ha. It’s literally never occurred to me. And I let that thought soak in and I said ‘okay’. As she summed up what I said, the series of events is very overwhelming and the thought comes to me ‘well holy fuck dude. That’s kinda like a lot’. And Lisa has told me most of these things but I guess there’s just something about the third party, impartial somebody saying it that makes it stick. She reinforced that my mind, my heart, my body has been through a lot in this past year. She told me that I’m now having to grieve the loss of my ‘body’ while in the midst of grieving over my husband. It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to say I’m not where I want to be. And in the moments of chaos, it’s hard to realize that it won’t always be this way. I won’t ALWAYS feel this way. I won’t ALWAYS feel out of control. Eventually, it will pass. She also brought up the point that I’m not as active as I’m used to being which effects my mind and body. I’m a very independent person that is temporarily at a point where I’m having to ask for help and not in a big way…in the small ways and that has an impact. Man oh man. I needed that reality check.

My mom gave me this little sign over a year ago that says: “You can do ANYTHING. You just can’t do EVERYTHING”. I think I have to realize and accept my limitations. I have to learn to be okay with them as they are a part of me and make me human.

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Where’s my satisfaction? Where’s my happiness?

**Right boob update: so the mystery is solved. I had forgotten that 3 days ago, a co-worker accidentally punched me in the right boob. I was following behind her and she went to take off her jacket and **whack** right in the right boob where all the bruising is! It knocked the wind outta me. I’m thankful that we figured this out. And don’t be hard on my co worker–it was totally an accident, she’s amazing! She even drew on my boob to outline the bruise so I could track it’s progression/regression!

“Wow” “I don’t even recognize you” “You look amazing” “You have done so much”. These are all common compliments I get from a multitude of people. I wanted to take a moment and just thank everyone for all of the support. I truly appreciate it.

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Size 7/9 jeans. Low Rise.

 

Today, I visited my old floor. I transferred about 4 months ago. It always feels like home when I visit even though there are so many new faces. When I visit, I always hope for some juicy trauma drama gossip but my weight loss and surgery usually are the topic. I’m sure that’ll change over time. I enjoy talking about my journey; it’s been a long one. I love talking with these wonderful women who have known me since 2013 and have seen me at my heaviest and they were there when I started my weight loss journey and when Paul died, they were there to pick to me up. They have shown me unconditional love and compassion and support and I’m eternally grateful to these wonderful ladies. So, it should not come at any surprise that they are all just so absolutely supportive and positive towards me and the progress that I’ve made with my health, weight and body transformation.

Today, I was met with all smiling faces and kind words. I have been just a bundle of emotions  since the beginning of the year (well, really since November 12, 2014–if I’m totally honest) and it has peaked since having surgery. I’ve touched on it a bit in a previous blog but this plastic surgery has really messed with my head. I was fully prepared for pain and recovery; I wasn’t prepared for exhaustion and mental torture. Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but, at times, that’s exactly what it feels like. I was all ready to knock this plastic surgery out and get to where I want to be but I’ve had a reality check.

I’m struggling with my identity and who I see in the mirror. I will never forget: standing in the shower. Naked. Lisa standing by to help me get my bandages/dressings off. I felt the water run down my body. I look to my left and, in the mirror, there she is; that girl. Frankenstein girl. Incisions. Perky boobs. Thin arms. I can see a her rib cage. And the room spins. I’m dizzy. Disoriented. My hearing is muffled. I’m slightly nauseated. And, for a second, I thought I’d pass out. Lisa helped me to the bed. I can’t remember the steps between the shower and my bed. And I laid on my back, on my bed, eyes shut. And I hear her calm voice, “it’s okay. I’m here”.

I’ve worked so hard and made a lot of sacrifices to get where I am today. I feel like my whole life has built to this point. I loved Paul; I love Paul. I will say it over and over because it is always true and pertinent. Although, as most know, it was never my ‘dream’ to get married or to have a family. Don’t get me wrong, I just want to be clear; I’ve said it many times: he was the dream I never knew I wanted; he was a love I never knew existed and, not for one second, have I ever regretted any moment we had together. That aside, you know what my dreams were? I wanted to be a successful career woman, self-sufficient and THIN. That’s what I wanted. Maybe it seems a bit shallow, but having been the fat girl for as long as I can recall…I wanted that. I wanted to look like the ‘regular girls’. I wanted to feel comfortable in my skin. I wanted to travel and not think about my hips squeezed into an airplane seat. And, now…I have that. Where’s my satisfaction? Where’s my happiness? That’s what was supposed to happen, right? I’ve shed the weight. I’ve met every one of my weight loss goals. I’ve got these perky boobs and slender arms. My god man; it’s, literally, all I’ve ever dreamed it could be.

My former co-worker and I were chatting. She said some things that really shook me. She described her impression of me, of first knowing me. (I’m paraphrasing) ‘To look at you, you were this shy, timid girl and now I see this confident girl that shines’. I was taken aback because I don’t know when that happened. I guess although I have these mounds and mounds of self-doubt that there is something under there. I just gotta dig it out. So, that gives me hope. Maybe I can’t see it quite yet but others do and that gives me hope.

It really is a constant battle; between what you think you want, what you actually want and what actually is. I’m so thankful for all these wonderful people in my life. Without you, I don’t know where I would be.

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First Year: Progress Pictures/Milestones!

My First Year Milestones


*Roller coasters in Orlando, Fl.

*Spread Paul’s ashes at Cocoa Beach

*By 6 months, I’d lost 121lbsDisplaying May2014vsMay15.jpgDisplaying May2014vsMay15.jpgDisplaying May2014vsMay15.jpgDisplaying May2014vsMay15.jpg

*Completed Paul’s 50th state and spread ashes at Mt Rushmore  

*Took a trip alone

*Spread some of Paul in San Diego off the USS Midway

*No seat belt extender on airplane   

*Donated blood—vitals within normal limits and only 1 needle stick

*Completed 5K marathon

*Attended my first adult pool party and wore a swim suit

*Rode a horse  

*ONEderland (under 200 lbs) 

*Rode in a helicopter

*By 1 year, I’d lost 157lbs

*Consultation with plastic surgeon for skin removal plan

*Size 10=no longer plus sized   

*Skydiving  

*Dressed up for Halloween

*Weighed LESS than stated weight on driver’s license

 

*Smoky Mountain trip where we spread some of Paul’s ashes

*Size 8 (first time in single digit size)  

*Have lost MORE POUNDS than I actually weigh 

*Pixie hair cut (no longer feel need to hide behind hair)

*Booked surgery date for first skin removal surgery

*Only 9 lbs from ‘average’ weight on BMI scale