It has been a few weeks since I updated y’all. I highly suggest that you get yourself a coke, preferably a Dr. Pepper, and a straw and sip your refreshment as you read this.
For those of you not interested in my brand of humor, the short answer is – I am fine. I will start some sort of radiation soon; not sure when, not sure for how long, and not sure the amount of zap. I should find that out this week. I promise to do another post this week about how it was determined I do not need chemo and what I will be having as treatment.
When this process began and I met with the breast surgeon, she asked if I was considering a breast reduction and lift at the time of the recommended lumpectomy. Well, it never occurred to me that a breast reduction was an option. I responded, I will think about it if insurance pays for it. Oh, it pays for it!
The next week when I met with the plastic surgeon, she reiterated that I can get a reduction and lift at the same time that I have the lumpectomy and insurance pays for it. Now that the bills have come in – they told the truth – insurance pays for it.
My first thought – that’s an easy way to lose 15 to 20 pounds. I doubt that any of you have ever looked at that particular part of my body, but trust me – I had big jugs. They come from my father’s side of the family. When I became pregnant, they took off to an entire other league and they have not gotten smaller (that I could ever tell) after I stopped using them for the purpose for which God intended. It did not take much for me to say – yes, let’s do the reduction and lift.
Next I was asked – how small do you wish to go. Well, as small as you can make them! There is science involved and formulas and body parts you must leave, so I was thinking a C would probably be what I would be left with after it was all said and done. Prior to surgery I was about a 44DDD. Before surgery I would lift up one of the girls and say – yeah, that’s definitely 10 pounds. But I had no way of actually weighing them. They felt like 100 pounds when you try and run and they are not tied down tight.
Now they are gone. I am not sure what I am – there is still some swelling, but probably a 44C.
The first thing I said when I came to after surgery was – where are the girls? Really, it looked like they were cut off. Everything was covered in bandages and they had me wrapped up tight.
When I went into surgery I weighed 205 pounds. When I got home, I weighed 202 pounds. What 202 pounds??? I am supposed be like 185! I figured it must be swelling, fluid build up or something. Then 2 weeks, 3 weeks, and now a month later – I am 201.8 pounds. I double checked all the reports and information I have found. The operating room report and pathology reports indicate that they removed 1,272.2 grams. That sounds like 15 pounds! But, after consulting google it is only a mere 2.804 pounds of skin and tissue removed from my body.
Now, I don’t miss food falling into my bra, but when I look down what I see now is my gut. I have gone from being a model for the ancient fertility goddess to being a model for a beer gut. A part of me wishes I had taken my entire body into consideration before I decided to be cut down to a C. Maybe I should have just gone with a D to hide my gut from myself a little longer.
