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Monthly Archives: August 2009

Running Away

I’m going to be leaving the country from the 24th until the 28th. I have spent the last four plus months healing. You would think that would qualify as relaxing. I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t even come close to a vacation. I’ve spent that time either 1) Drugged out of my mind or worrying about 2) Complications 3) Infections 4) Random Health Disasters and/or 4) Family Shit I Just Don’t Want To Think About Anymore

So on a whim Ken booked us a cruise to the Bahamas so that we can both unclench. I plan on spending four days doing nothing more than relaxing. My goal is to achieve a jello-like state and be completely out of touch with the rest of the world.

We have been so tense and stressed for so long that we need a get away like this. I’ll take pictures and put them on my personal Facebook page when we get back.

We will also be at DragonCon so I’ll be gone again Sept. 3-8. for a major Geek Fest!!

I’m also going to apologize in advance again. The upcoming blog posts are going to be harder and more emotional for me to write so there will probably be some delays ad inconsistencies in how frequently I post for a while.

 
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Posted by on August 21, 2009 in Uncategorized

 

Right After Surgery

We got back to the hotel around 6:30 pm. After I made my way VERY slowly into the room, Ken got me set up in bed, propped up and surrounded with pillows. I was still pretty groggy from the anesthetic so I was sort of in and out of sleep for a little while.

I woke up a little while later and found Ken sitting in bed watching TV with a pizza box in his lap. The smell made me ravenous. So he made me some soup.

As part of my after care instructions I was told that I should walk as much as I could. While he was puttering around in the kitchenette, I got up SLOWLY and walked a couple laps around the coffee table.I was more capable of moving after this surgery than the reconstruction.

The HiQ had given Ken a couple of prescriptions for after the surgery. The pharmacy was closed by the time we got back to the room and Ken didn’t want to leave me alone the first evening so the nurse sent along enough pain pills for me to get through until my one day check up.

After Ken made soup I actually sat at the kitchenette table and ate some of it. Even though I thought I was ravenous, my body didn’t seem to want that much food.  So I ate what i wanted and then went to the bathroom.

I was really curious about what I looked like  so I gingerly took off the pajama top. My chest and torso were wrapped in a compression bandage over other bandages so all I could see was that I had bigger boobs. I wouldn’t be able to actually see them until my one day check up the following afternoon. Although I did try to peek, it would have been too complicated and painful for me to completely unwrap myself.

I remember falling asleep pretty early after taking a slow walk down the hall. I think I slept through the night. I was still pretty dopey from the anesthetic after all.

I’m going to apologize in advance because this is difficult and painful for me to remember so I won’t be very consistent on my posting. I can only deal with remembering for a little while before I have to stop and take a break.

On top of that, Ken and I are leaving the country for a few days on the 24th and won’t be back until the 28th. I’ll talk about this in another post.

 

The Surgery

I took all the vitamins, antibiotics, etc people at the HIQ’s office (Hack in Question) told me to take in the order I was supposed to take it. We made reservations for a hotel to stay in for a few days so that I wouldn’t have to ride back and forth to Melbourne from Orlando right after surgery.

In the intervening two weeks I have to admit to having had some doubts. I considered canceling the surgery on one occasion only to find out that we still would have owed all the money anyway PLUS a cancellation fee.

The big reason I was having so many doubts, I think, was that my Mom completely freaked out when I told her that I was getting a boob job. She reverted to “lecture” mode and preached at me about her really bad experiences. What I find odd now is that she didn’t give me ANY details at all about what had happened, presuming that I just  knew or remembered.

I didn’t.

I was scheduled for 2pm on October 2nd 2007. HiQ asked me be at the surgical center two hours before surgery. There was paperwork to fill out once I got there. Of course I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since midnight because of the possibility of aspirating.

We got there early and the nice nurses in the office gave me the paperwork I still had to fill out. It was the standard pre-surgical paperwork: allergies, etc. So I got that done and began the long wait. I tried distracting myself with a magazine but I was still really nervous. Finally when I thought I was going to pop, a nurse called me back.

There were probably about 10 to 15 bays separated by curtains. Each one contained a wheeled gurney and monitoring equipment. I was given a bag for my street clothes and in exchange, I was given a hospital gown that I was told to leave open in front. I was also given a pair of surgical hose to put on. They help to prevent blood clots in the leg from what I’ve been told by both the staff there ad Dr. Elliott’s people.

Then the HiQ came to see me. He made a bunch of measurements and pen marks all over my chest. I asked if I could make a change in implant size to something smaller. He replied “Well you’d better not change your mind because I only brought the one set of implants”.

After the HiQ was done, the nurse came in, popped an IV in my arm and took my vitals. Of course my blood pressure was running a little high because of nerves but that was to be expected. Then she placed these odd sleeves on my legs over the hose. I’ll explain those in a few minutes.

After all that we waited some more. Ken kept my mind occupied so I wouldn’t freak out while we waited MUCH longer than we expected. We were told that the previous surgery was taking more time than expected.  Finally the nurses came to wheel me in to surgery at about 3:30. I kissed Ken and told him I would see him soon.

Once in surgery the leg sleeves were hooked up to a machine that  rhythmically pumped air into them. Their job was to keep blood flowing well in my legs. The compressions also reduced the possibility of developing blood clots. I was given an injection through the IV and within a matter of moments, I was out like the proverbial light.

 

Abruptness

Something I neglected to mention yesterday is that the Hack In Question (HIQ for short) had the bedside manner of a barnacle. He was abrupt in his answers to my questions. When I mentioned that I was an herbalist he actually said something along the lines of how he was a surgeon and he didn’t believe in magic. When he did his exam he squeezed too hard because he seemed to be rushing.

I’ve noticed that many doctors, not just the HIQ seem to think that because they know a great deal about biology and medicine that they can simply blow off a patient’s symptoms because they don’t fit what the books say the symptoms are for the issue that you’ve been diagnosed with. This person is thus called an MDiety. An MDiety puts his degree ahead of his patient’s well being. An MDiety can’t POSSIBLY be wrong and we’ll be seeing examples of the HIQ in full MDiety mode later on in this blog.

If a doctor treats you in a less than kind and compassionate manner at the outset, find yourself a different doctor. Don’t just put up with it because the guy has a doctor’s degree. You DO know what they call someone who graduates in the bottom 10% of the medical class is, right?

Doctor.

 
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Posted by on August 14, 2009 in bad bedside manner, Uncategorized

 

Gimme Credit & Implant Fitting

In the business office we talked about various ways to pay for the surgery. Of course, as I mentioned the surgical fees were on barter. The fees for the surgical facility, The Bougainvillea Clinique, as well as the implants themselves, were to be fully paid for two weeks prior to surgery. That’s where Care Credit came in.

Care Credit does financing for a wide range of cosmetic surgical procedures. I got them to finance me for the full amount over a three year span of payments. If I remember right, the payments were under $200 a month. The interest rate was pretty rough though. It was somewhere around 9% if memory serves. Of course I didn’t care. I was headed full boar into this.

With the financing in place and confirmed, we set a date for October 6th. All that was left was to figure out what size implants I wanted. Now THIS is a process in and of itself.

I was told to get some knee high stockings and raw rice because rice is the most accurate type of filler as far as weight goes. One cup of raw rice equals approximately 236 ccs. The following table gives more conversions.

1 cup = 236cc
½  cup = 118cc
¾  cup = 177cc
¼  cup = 59cc
1/3  cup = 78cc
2/3 cup = 156cc
1/8  cup = 30cc

So you start by filling two knee highs with one cup of rice, lightly tie it off so that you can untie it again later and stuff them into a properly fitting sports bra. I did four different sets so that I could compare the various volumes. 425cc is an approximate full D cup so play with the volumes and see what looks best. I ended up with about 625 ccs which is about a DD.

Once I had the implant size figured out, I called in the volume that I had settled on. NOW I think I should have been fitted in the doctor’s office, but they had their own routine. I figured these people knew what they were doing so I just went along with it.

Two weeks before the surgical date I received a box in the mail. In it was vitamins to fortify my system, antibiotics as a preemptive strike against infection and Arnica for bruising. I was given instructions for what to take at what point. So at  two weeks out I started the regiment.

Tomorrow I’ll talk about the surgery itself.

 

You Get What You Pay For

As I said yesterday, I found a plastic surgeon on barter. So I called to make an appointment for a consultation. Before long both hubby an I were headed for the office.

I mentioned on Twitter yesterday that I still blame myself for this. BUT, part of being a literal cautionary tale is that you fess up. This is my confession. You would think the fact that the office is in a strip mall might have been some kind of indication. Here in Florida you’ll find some really nice restaurants in strip malls though. So I shrugged it off. I did more than shrug it off, I stomped flat that obnoxious little voice in the back of my mind.

Legally, because of the settlement that came later, I cannot reveal the name of the surgeon. Nor can any of my relatives, friends or even people I am acquainted with. Maybe one day I’ll auction off the name the way Carly Simon auctioned off revealing who “You’re So Vain” was about.

We arrived a little late to a well appointed office. There were cosmetic products in a glass case and up to date fashion magazines in the waiting room. I was nervous but excited. We were called back to a comfortable examination room and I was asked to strip from the waist up so that the doc could see what we were dealing with and I was given a thick comfy robe to cover up with.

The doctor came in and took a look. During the exam he actually pinched, hefted and squeezed (albeit briefly) my breasts to get an idea of volume and elasticity. He explained the anchor procedure to me and asked if I had any questions. I told him that I wanted my boobs put back where they were when I was 17. He told me it was not possible and that was an unrealistic expectation. He said that he could make them look perkier and fuller but they would never be like that again.

He also explained that I had wide-set breasts so it was not possible for me to have the kind of breasts that I brought in photos of. Yes, some plastic surgeons ask you to bring photos of breasts you like so that they have a visual reference of what you want.

He also asked me if I understood that I would have scaring. These people want to make good and certain that you understand that with the anchor lift, it’s not all sunshine and roses right out of the box.

Once all my questions were answered that’s when I dressed and we went into the business office to discuss the financial aspect. The surgeon’s fees were on barter but the anesthesiologist, the implants themselves and the facility fees were cash. I was given a brochure for a company called Care Credit that finances cosmetic procedures and the breakdown of costs and we went on our merry way.

Tomorrow I’ll talk about financing and the build up to my first surgery.

 

Complexus Inferioritus 2

I admit that I was intimidated by what appeared to me to be massive amounts of cutting on my breasts. On the other hand, I hated what I had SO much that, while it was pretty scary, it was something that I could definitely see myself doing.

After the video was over, the PA came in and she explained what the video had just shown and then she asked if I would like to see what I would look like after the surgery.  I think this is where they REALLY sell women on the idea of plastic surgery. It was where they really sold me on it.

The PS brought out a couple of implants and hat me put them in my bra. She showed me a mirror and it was love at first sight. I felt beautiful for the first time in a quite a while. As I said, I was sold.

I was given an estimate for the two procedures.  And augmentation is still considered a separate procedure from  the lift even though they’re usually done in unison. At least they were a few years ago.

I was given an estimate for the two procedures.  A total of around $10,000 if I’m remembering correctly. So I brought it home and showed the estimate to my husband.  And that’s where the heartbreak of this story truly begins.

He said we couldn’t afford it and maybe in a couple years we’d be able to do it. I cried as though my heart were broken but by the end of the day I had calmed down. I hadn’t accepted that it was over though. I was bound and determined that I was going to make this happen. I just had to find a way to make my husband understand how desperate I was to be beautiful. So, in my emotional state, I reverted to high school. I wrote him a letter. I felt that was really the only way to articulate what I felt that I needed.

After reading it later that night, he told me that if I could find a way to make it happen cheaply, then I could get it done. This is where I admit to having more than a bit of OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). This wasn’t a compulsion but it was most assuredly an obsession.

So I was off. I had another consultation about a month later with another local PS. Again, I was quoted about the same price. At this point I was feeling pretty desperate. So I looked on our barter network website for plastic surgeons in Orlando.

Barter networks are different than how many people perceive them. As an example say I have a product or service that I sell within the network for $10. Someone within the network buys that product or service giving me $10 barter dollars in my account. I can then take that barter cash and use it for ANYTHING in the barter network that someone else supplies.

I have gotten handyman work, housekeeping, contact lenses, pre-purchase home inspection and the surgical fees for my initial surgery on barter. There are SO many things you have access to and if your barter club is part of a network with reciprocal agreements, you have access to an even wider range of products and services. Just a couple days ago we bought fudge, jam, wine and dinner on barter.

Yes, I found a plastic surgeon on barter.

Tune in tomorrow when I continue with my story.

 

Complexus Inferioritus

Today marks a fresh start for the BoobCast blog. It may be occasionally sprinkled with updates on my current status but for the most part I’ll be talking in detail about why I had the initial breast augmentation and lift. I’ll also add much more in-depth detail to what happened to me and why it may have happened.

Today I’m going to talk about the reasons I had the surgery done in the first place.

I was always pretty socially awkward in high school. I was about 20 pounds overweight, only a couple friends, unpopular and an easy target because I had absolutely no self esteem. Add to that, when I went in for a bra fitting, the sales woman told me I had tubular breasts. I had absolutely no idea what that meant and at 16 was too embarrassed to ask.

This is what tubular breasts look like: http://tinyurl.com/mp3cwv

Fast forward 10 years, add breast feeding two kids and gravity and I REALLY hated my breasts. They weren’t pretty. They were just a couple of hanging flaps of skin. Add to that my nipples were so overly sensitive that if my partners tried to stimulate them, I was hanging from the ceiling because it was just too much sensation.

It was about that time that I became determined that by the time I was 40 I would have beautiful breasts. It wasn’t always at the forefront of my mind but the idea sat in the back of my mind and became cemented. Every time I went bra shopping the notion that my breasts were horrible and I needed a boob job became more and more firmly cemented in my mind.

At 39 I became completely obsessed with the idea that I HAD to get something done. I started researching plastic surgeons in the area. It took me about six months before I finally decided on one locally. So I made an appointment for a consultation.

With everything else that had been going on with major family issues , school and the business, I finally went to an appointment in the spring of my 40th year.

After taking a look at my breasts, it was announced that I had degraded as far as I could and it wasn’t going to get any worse. This article explains the Gurley Stages of Breast Regression http://tinyurl.com/2d3ds3 and I was a Gurley Stage II

The doctor used a different scale but I am unable to find it. It basically amounts to how big your areolaes are and how much droop you have. Mine were the size of Coke bottle bottoms and my nipples pointed at the floor. So I was told I would need a breast lift to make them look perkier and an implant to replace the volume I had lost from breast feeding and age.

She put a VHS tape in that explained the anchor lift procedure and left me alone to watch it. Please look here for a diagram and description of a full (anchor) mastopexy:   http://tinyurl.com/ku5wy5

I will continue this tomorrow since this post is running long.

 

Why The Reboot?

I mentioned in yesterday’s blog post that as of Monday I would be starting my story  over from the beginning. I’m sure many of you are wondering why. If you go back to my early blog posts you’ll see that although there is a little bit of detail, there are some unanswered questions.

When I first started this blog I was very emotionally unstable. I left out a great deal of detail simply because it was far too painful for me to talk about then. Now that I can think more clearly and have more distance, I can tell my story much better. The more details I can convey, the more benefit this blog has for you, the reader.

I’ll be taking the weekend off. Starting Monday 9/10/09 I’ll start back at the beginning. By the beginning, I mean I’ll talk about the self esteem issues behind the first plastic surgery and the role I feel society and commercialism contributes to low self esteem. In subsequent episodes I’ll also be talking about tuberous breasts and why they are considered a deformity.

To quote Heath Ledger’s character William in “A Knight’s Tale”: Welcome to New World. God save you, if it is right that he should do so.

 

Choices To Be Made

I’ve been writing this blog for almost 150 entries now and I’ve noticed a few things. First, I get higher reader numbers when my posts have titles like: X-Rated or Boobie Boggles. Hell, that second one got the highest readership numbers yet. Second, I get more inquiries from the medically-based posts that I do.

When I talk about my experiences with the variety of issues I’ve had between the augment and lift and the reconstruction, I get more genuine questions and actual sharing of information. So with this in mind I’ve come to a conclusion.

Screw that. I’m sick of trying to get readers by luring them in with titillating titles (no pun intended). I’m just going to talk about what’s going on, what I’ve gone through and the things I’ve experienced. THAT is what helps people. If I happen to grow my readership, great. If I don’t, I’ll be sad that I’m not getting information out to more people.

I’m just not going to bend over backwards anymore trying to expand my readership the cheap, superficial way.

With that in mind, I will be going back to the beginning. I’m going to start filling in the HUGE gaps in my story. Starting Monday August 10th, BoobCast gets a do-over. I plan to start with the reason behind my initial desire to have the breast augmentation and lift.

I’ll talk about the appointments I went on, how plastic surgeons grade breast degradation and all my initial preparations. I’ll be adding more links to relevant medical sites and I’ll be putting up some photos, with the appropriate warnings and cautions when that time comes.

 
 
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