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Yesterday I sat down and wrote an outline for the book, including appendices for malpractice lawyers and board certified reconstructive surgeons by state. I have the forward done-an edited version of my essay here “Being Pretty”. Then I settled in to write chapter one, My Story, and promptly froze up like the metaphorical deer.

You, Dear Reader, keep telling me that I am strong and brave but I’m STILL not. I know I’m ready to write the book, but I’m afraid of dredging up old emotions. The up side is that I know they’re old emotions and all I have to do is go look in the mirror to remind myself that I’m just fine now. I’m more fortunate in that regard than some of you out there.

Some wounds run deep. This is one of them. So I’m writing this entry because talking to you, dear reader, has been a source of sanity all through this trial. Talking about the hurt helps. Personally, I’d rather bludgeon it into submission but that still hasn’t happened.

I’m not brave (in my opinion). I just got through it day by day, minute by minute. Sometimes second by second. Most of the time, with help. I’m only courageous in the “Princess Diaries” quote way (Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.). I won’t be out there on the front lines leading a battle charge. My weapon of choice is the keyboard.

I’m still afraid. I’m still emotional. My heart aches EVERY TIME I get an email from someone else going through this. But I’m pushing forward. And much like with how I dealt with losing my nipples and areolae, there will be backwards progress and days like yesterday when I just lock up and can’t do  any more.

I hope to have my first rough draft done by March. That’s when there is an intensive writer’s weekend in Atlanta that I want to attend. In the mean time, I still need your stories. I already have one person who has agreed to an interview. Again, if you are willing, please email me at boobcast@gmail.com. If you are uncomfortable with the idea of your name or situation being published, we can change your name for the book.

I’ve always told you that you’re not alone. It’s good to know that I’m not, either.

I’ve known from the beginning of this mess that one day I was going to have to write a book. This blog simply doesn’t get enough traffic to spread the word about what necrosis is, how it happens and how we can survive it. Originally I was going to take the content I have and turn it into a book. I think that was somewhat short-sighted on my part. This isn’t just about me. It’s about all of us.

It’s about every woman who has ever had to deal with this nightmare. It’s about every woman who has ever been afraid that those really dark bruises might be something more insidious. It’s about every woman who has borne this burden in silence because she couldn’t find anything about necrosis. It’s about ever woman who has ever blamed herself for this when it wasn’t her fault.

What I would like to do is have a series of around 15 interviews with women who have dealt with necrosis and come out the other side. Or even a few who are in the midst of dealing with it. I want these interviews to be raw, candid and honest in the flavor that Boobcast has been from the beginning.

I also want to include a couple interviews with doctors who deal with necrosis and botched surgeries. And finally, I want to include a chapter on legal options from a top malpractice attorney. I think that would make for a well-rounded book.

Why am I telling you this? My regular readers can probably guess. I can go other places for the interviews, I’m sure. But I’d like to start with you, if you’re willing. If anyone is interested in being interviewed for this project, please let me know. I can, as always, be reached at boobcast@gmail.com

Thank you in advance.

Boobcast has made such a tremendous difference in so many lives. It’s time to take it to the next level.

Here’s  a little something I think you all might appreciate. While it wasn’t at the doctor’s office, I have used the Twins to flash for beads after reconstruction. It was my way of celebrating the idea that I was no longer, in my mind, a mangled, sub-human thing.

It has been ten days since I got the second round of nipple and areolae tattooing done. I did everything I told to do for after care, making sure to apply a thick coating of petroleum jelly at least once a day to the area and keep it covered with gauze and paper tape for 7 days. I actually applied the jelly twice a day just to make sure there was no way it could stick to the gauze. Below you will see the progressive loss of pigment over the last 10 days.

This first set of photos was taken on Nov. 23rd, two days after tattooing.

    

The second set below is from Nov. 25. There is already a little lightening in the pigment.

  

The third set of photos was from three days after the previous ones, on November 28. The difference is even more distinct than the difference between the first and second set.

       Finally, there are the photos from November 30, just 10 days after tattooing. You can see the tiny flakes of pigment coming off in them. In one you can even see the little leopard-like spots where the pigment is still clinging. At this point I had been, as per written after-care instructions, not wearing gauze or petroleum jelly for three days.

   

The color is good and according to the nurse, this is how it’s supposed to be. The difference is just so vast and startling that I wasn’t prepared for it.. They tell you it will look lighter, but seeing the difference and the progression over a ten days span seems extreme.

The good thing is that when you, Dear Reader, are ready for your tattooing, you’ll be ready for the difference. So make sure that you get the pigment color you want slightly darker so that when it heals, you have the REAL color you want for your new nipples and areolae.

Remember Jill’s story from yesterday (HA! Like ANYONE could forget THAT kind of trauma)? Well, she’s looking for other people like her in Texas for support and advice.

If you live there, give a shout out!

WARNING: This post contains graphic images of breast necrosis. If you have a weak constitution or are easily upset, please leave now. This post also contains material that is NSFW.

[Editor's Note: Today's story comes from Jill, a woman who has, quite honestly, been through much more than I have. I never thought I would encounter someone who has had a worse experience with a plastic surgeon than mine. Please give her your kindness and support. She could use all of it she can get right now]

Jill is a cancer survivor who had implants put in after a mastectomy. Then, about a year ago, she noticed cigarette-like burns on one breast. These were ignored by her surgeon. Then last month about 25% of the breast turned black and died, including the nipple.

During an office visit, her surgeon took a pair of scissors and cut the necrotic skin off. As he was debriding the wound, Jill was screaming for him to stop. Then he realized she had silicone implants. He had put them in himself but didn’t bother to check her chart beforehand. Then he pulled the implant out through hole he had just cut leaving her with an open visible wound and a HUGE under the skin wound.

The surgeon now refuses to do any more work on Jill because she no longer has health insurance. He actually suggested she go to a local charity hospital and apply for assistance there. Jill has quoted him as saying “Maybe they will make you Patient of the Year”.

Up to this point Jill had been packing the wound with gauze, but because it was so deep she was unable to pack it well herself. Thus, the wound wasn’t healing as well as it could have been. Fortunately Jill is now on a Wound V.A.C. and is getting the help she needs.

Jill has also been brave enough to share her photos. Below you can see what her necrosis looked like, the open wound, and the aftermath of the implant removal her “doctor” did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you’ve been keeping up with my blog you know that I’m scheduled for the next (and hopefully LAST) round of nipple and areolae tattooing on Monday in Atlanta. The Twins are numb and I have two other tattoos so pain or fear of discomfort  isn’t an issue. As I said in “Understanding My Fears”, it’s about the chair.

I think I can handle that now.

What has me freaking out THIS week is the possibility of a flap revision on my right nipple. I emailed Suzanne, Dr. Elliot’s assistant, about using dermal filler to plump up my right nipple because it’s flatter than the left. She told me that Dr. Elliot said that it’s not permanent and that, after the skin heals from tattooing, he’d like to talk about flap revision.

Now, I understand that differences are normal. In nature most women have some asymmetry. And, as I’ve said before, I just want this all to be over with. The idea of another surgery had me feeling like a deer in headlights. The headlights, in this case, belonged to a locomotive just chock full of my baggage.

I’m not sure, at this point, if I should just suck it up and deal, accepting the asymmetry, or if I should consider the flap revision. My right nipple is half the height of the left and they’re not going to contract any more. But if I have the flap revision then I get to wait another three months or so before I know for certain if they’ll be the same size.

What if the right one ends up bigger than the left? Do I have yet another revision? No, that’s not going to happen. I’m torn because it’s my body and it should be how I want it to be after all this crap. But I also recognize the limits of plastic and reconstructive surgery. I wonder if I’m demanding too much. Plastic and reconstructive surgery has its limits. A surgeon can’t put my boobs back where they were when I was 16. A surgeon can’t create new breasts without scars.

So can a surgeon create symmetrical nipples? According to this site, if it is a reduction, yes it can be done, but I’m not finding anything about making nipples bigger to improve symmetry.

The photos below are from after the first round of tattooing but they will do well for an example of size comparison. As you can see, my left nipple is significantly taller than my right.

I’m not someone who is embarrassed by a little nip poke-through. If it was an issue with a specific event I’d just wear a lightly padded bra to camouflage the protrusion. After having no nipples (not to mention no breasts) for as long as I did, plump, pokey nipples are something I enjoy. Plus during foreplay, a nipple like that is easier to access.

I guess what it comes down to is what I’m willing to put up with. I have to heal up from the tattooing first before I can consider any further steps.

Even though the dermal filler is just temporary, I might see about giving that a try anyway to see if it even makes a difference to my mental state. If it doesn’t, there’s no point in looking into a <shudder> flap revision.

And then there is my husband, who is concerned that there might be a possibility of necrosis again. I tried to reassure him that the nipple reconstruction went just fine with no complications. I guess I’m not the only one with a baggage train.

 

My regular readers know that I have been saying for months that the only thing I have left to do is one more round of areolae tattooing. The first round ended up being too light after it all healed. I have been putting it off, making excuses, using my so-called “busy” schedule to make even more excuses not to do it. After all, it’s only tattooing, right? What’s the big deal about that?

Well apparently it’s a huge deal because as I was typing the email to Dr. Elliott’s office inquiring about the tattooist’s schedule for next month, I started tearing up. Thinking about sitting in that chair again made me start shaking. Before I knew it, I was curled up in a little ball on my husband’s lap, sobbing and having a flashback to the day I had the debridement.

It was then that I realized that it’s not the tattooing. I have two decorative tattoos already. That doesn’t bother me at all.

It’s the chair.

More precisely it’s the memories of what happened in the chair in the original PS’s office. Even though there was no pain during the debridement, what happened to me was pretty severe. It was severe enough to cause flashbacks on a number of occasions.

Along with the debridement, there was also the time he tried using cadaver skin as a bandage by sewing it on to me. Adding to the creepy factor and my total lack of understanding about precisely what that was supposed to accomplish (AND his lack of explanation beyond “This is a very expensive treatment that I’m giving you”), there was one additional factor. As he was sewing the cadaver skin on, he hit a couple spots that still had sensation, so I screamed. Either he or his nurse (I don’t remember which) told me to stop because I was “scaring people in the waiting room”.

Thus I spent some time this evening huddled in my husband’s lap having PTSD flashbacks and begging him not to make me go back to that place. Fortunately Ken has dealt with this before and he reassured me that I never have to see that man again.Except to, perhaps, piss on his grave one day. Ken is a good man and he deals with an amazing amount of crap.

Yeah, it was pretty bad.

I think now that I finally understand the source of my fears, I can begin to deal with them. Now I can remind myself that 1) I never have to see the original PS again and 2) That is NOT the original PS OR his office. it is Dr. Elliott’s people, who have always been kind, caring and gentle with me.

Being able to remind myself of those things if or when I start to panic will help see me through any possible flashbacks when I get the tattooing done. Once I hear from Dr. Elliott’s office I’ll post the scheduled date here. And, of course, when I get the tattooing done, I’ll have Ken take pictures of the process for this blog.