Wednesday, August 29, 2012

The Long Process Back to Cleavage

Back on June 22, I had my breast reconstruction. As I mentioned in my previous blog, it wasn't an easy surgery. Luckily, growing the "girls" is a lot easier.

One of the charming scenes in downtown Fredericksburg.
I was in Fort Worth for three weeks to receive weekly injections to stretch the skin and muscle. Ironically, this coincided with my 30th high school reunion. I have to admit, having perky new cleavage for my high school reunion was awesome.

The view from the Pedernales Cellars winery.
One night I modeled for my husband several dresses looking for the perfect one for the reunion dinner. A side product of having reconstruction is that you almost get a new wardrobe. You wouldn't think having cleavage would be a big deal. And I wasn't hugely endowed before. But it's amazing how even a little cleavage helps fill out dresses or tank tops and what it does for your morale.

No, we didn't see Waylon and the boys.
So, with the perfect dress packed, I left for Fort Worth for my "fills" and reunion. Getting a "fill" is kind of like expanding a water balloon. Not knowing exactly how this was going to work, I imagined the nurse coming in with a huge needle attached to something like a Super Soaker water gun in which she would pump me full of water. Well, I was semi-correct. The nurse came in and rolled a port finder over my chest.

"Hey, it's like a stud finder," I joked. "My husband has one of these in his toolbox."

The finder shows the nurse where the port entrance is, then she inserts a tiny needle which is attached to a little tube and syringe. Slowly, the water is injected. And here's the weird part. It really looks like a water balloon filling. It's instantaneous gratification.

Yes, the injection stung a little but as the nurse quipped, "That's good. Well, it's not good that it hurt you, but it's good that you still have some feeling there...you know, that it's not all numb...for you will...well...it's just that sometimes..."

"I know what you're trying to say," I offered her.

Then the doctor came in and spoke to me about the differences between silicone and saline implants. He suggested silicone.

"But, I want the safest implant," I said. "I don't need anymore drama."

But he assured me silicone is nothing like the previous generations. "It's kind of like a gummy bear," he offered. "If I cut a gummy bear, nothing leaks out."

The difference between the two is that saline can be adjusted to make both sides perfectly symmetrical. But it will be hard like a melon.Whereas, the silicone is a softer, more natural feel.

"If it were me, I would prefer a more natural feel. But you do what you feel is best. It's just that the silicone will be softer..."

Then a funny thought came to me. This is so awkward talking to a man about what feels more natural. But although he is a medical professional with countless hours of medical school and probably a nice school loan to go with it, he is in basic form a man.

Two weeks into my filling process, I met my husband in Fredericksburg, Texas, for a getaway weekend. He had to stay home and work while I underwent my transformation.

When we got to the hotel room, I burst out, "So, you want to see them?"

"Wow, they look good. They're already bigger than the originals."

I don't know why, but I was insulted.

"They are not," I said.

"They are," he said.

"Are not," I said.

"They are bigger," he said.

Then we both looked at each other and smiled at the stupidity of this disagreement. I mean, just what was the point?

"Do you want to go out and walk around," he offered.

So, now I'm in the holding pattern. I have to wait six weeks for the skin and muscle to completely adjust before I can get the expanders taken out and have the permanent implants put in.

Oh, and my high school reunion went great. No one was the wiser of my ordeal and I felt great. And here's a bonus, I was voted as one of five women who physically have changed the least since 1982.

I told me husband, "Isn't that funny? With everything I've been through in the last 2.5 years, my classmates think I haven't changed."

The Wondering Texan








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