A Recollection of My Reconstruction
March 2020 was a highly anticipated time for me, not because of the impending pandemic mind you, but because it was the month I would finally be switching out my “tissue expanders” for my very own pair of silicone YABOS, as Thora Birch’s character would say in Hocus Pocus. In other words, it was finally time to get my permanent breast implants placed under my skin, thus ending my surgery journey with breast cancer. Well, at least that was the idea.
Everything went as well as it could for my surgery. I have a weird complex where I kinda enjoy the surgery day because it feels like everyone is there just for YOU. I know, it sounds a little eek. But I guess when it comes to all the parts of cancer that can be so scary and LONELY, it feels very encouraging to be in a room full of your doctors who know you and are there to give you what you want. Even the music playing as I was wheeled into the operation room was my choice! I believe I crumbled under the pressure and blurted out Hanson as an artist choice, only I was hoping it would be more of a deep cut like Where’s the Love or Penny and Me, but of course they went with MmmBop. That’s fine! Just slightly embarrassing to have my hot plastic surgeon hear that right before I fall asleep and he cuts into me.
Anyone who’s had major surgery will understand this: you have to take off all your clothes, right? They give you a robe and either no bottoms or, as with me, there was a pair of paper pants I could put on as well. Now, here’s the thing…when you wake up after surgery…you are no longer in those same clothes. Inevitably someone has removed your top for surgery, and I mean I guess my bottoms too?? And they dress your anesthesia-d body up like you’re a life-sized rag doll, and they probably toss you onto your gurney and wait for you to wake up! The idea mortifies me and makes me giggle.
Four years ago was the first step towards me getting to move forward from a life intercepted by cancer. That wasn’t the last surgery I had, however. Again, I know it might not make sense to everyone, but for those who get it, I know you’ll get it. But, I was somewhat unhappy with the outcome of my original reconstruction surgery. There was some rippling on the top of my breast that was alarming and though very normal, it was enough to ask to try and fix it. And, okay here’s the other funny thing, I kind of sort of wanted ‘em a little bigger. You have to understand, when you have to get your breasts removed, the ones you spent 27 years with for crying out loud, you can be a little lost with what your new body should look like. They’ll never ever look natural again, so part of me wanted to finally live out a, umm hefty chesty life? I just made that up I swear to God. We went bigger! And I did some fat grafting (lipo in the thighs) to help the rippling and soften the edges of the implants.
I spent a solid two years with my Big Gals before I couldn’t take it anymore. The back pain, the way none of my clothes fit or even new clothes would fit in my body but have no room for these ladies, the internalized indoctrinated shame I felt having such things on “display” all the time…I didn’t feel like me anymore. It was fun for a little while, but I knew I had to go back to Hot Surgeon and have them switched out again. We went smaller and I feel much better. The only problem still, I think I want to go even smaller. And at the end of the day, I know this is a lot of surgeries that to some might seem “frivolous” if you can even say that. But, I didn’t choose this “boob job,” so I see this more as the chance to really go for what is going to make me the most whole. After cancer and a double mastectomy, getting your revision to be as close to perfect as you can gives you back a little bit of your control.
So, four years since my reconstruction and revision journey started…we’ve gone through a pandemic and a whole lot of…eh depressing stuff…in those four years. But in the grand scheme that’s only a fraction of time. In theory I could get one more revision and have those implants for 20 years before it’s time to swap them out! I’ll continue looking to that future, me and my Perky Puppies.
