Irrational Dragon

Greetings my friends.  How is it possible that more than a year has passed since my last post?  As per usual, I will start with a WARNING!!!  If you do NOT want to see Penny and Clover in all their recent glory TURN BACK NOW!  It’s okay. 

Now that is out of the way, let me bring you up to speed. 

My last surgery was in October 2022.  If you have read the blog in the past, you might remember, I was scheduled for a second fat transfer, but days before, I had a major meltdown while discussing the upcoming surgery with my plastic surgeon’s Physician’s Assistant.  That full blown breakdown ended up with me crying on the bathroom floor and a change to the surgical plan. ~ I was incredibly unhappy with the original implants, as they were way too big for me.  In order to achieve a more desirable size, the surgeon would have to remove my nipples, tighten the pockets and insert smaller implants.  Everything seemed to be healing fine and before I knew it, I was at my 6-month checkup talking about next steps. 

Why next steps?  Well, replacing the implants was basically a total restart, so let’s just say there were still a few issues I wanted prettied up.  My next surgery was scheduled for early September 2023, and I was looking forward to having the healing process behind me before our Family Trip to Disney in October.  However, my easy-going husband was not good at hiding his displeasure with the chosen date and when asked if he wanted me to reschedule, he answered with an unexpected yes! ~ That was the first clue I somehow screwed up plans for a 50^th Surprise Party to be held in my honor.  ~ Sorry tribe, I suck, and I know I’m close to impossible to surprise. ☹  In order to not mess up any planned soirees, I rescheduled surgery for November 13^th.  Keep in mind, my last visit with the surgeon was in April and apparently lots can happen in 7 months. 

The goal of the November surgery was to add some fullness to the top and front of the breasts and to make some adjustments regarding symmetry.  Remember, when someone has a mastectomy, all the tissue is removed, so there is no fat to fill in the gaps.  The best way to add fullness is to steal fat from one area of the body and transfer it to another.  Knowing fat grafting tends to hurt more than revamping the breasts, I mentally prepared for two weeks of uncomfortable healing. 

Jim and I had a wedding to attend on November 11^th, so we made it a weekend getaway.  We did some Christmas shopping, hung out with friends, and enjoyed a few days escaping from the chaos of life.  Before settling in for the night on Sunday the 12th, I decided to take a few “before surgery” photos.  I should have known then that the trajectory was going to change.  I mean, I look at my breasts almost every day before showering.  They are hard to miss!  However, it wasn’t until I looked at the photos that I realized how wonky they had become.  Certainly, you remember the goofy slinky glasses we wore as kids.  The ones where a tilt of the head makes one or both eyes fly out and arc toward your cheek.  Well, friends….that it what my right boob looked like.  A wonky donkey slinky boob.

I’m usually in decent spirits going into surgery, but Monday felt different.  Maybe it’s because the holidays are close and I’m not ready, maybe it was because of the 1:00pm scheduled time (I’m used to a super early spot), maybe it’s because other aspects of my life are in a weird state of limbo right now, who knows.  All I know for sure is, I was on the verge of imploding even before the doctor walked through the curtain.  It took him approximately one minute to look at my chest and suggest altering course and less time for me to crumble. 

It makes total sense when you break it down.  For some unknown reason, the skin on the right side appears to be more elastic and the implant stretched past the point of a simple recovery.  And the silicone orbs that started toward the center of my chest after the last exchange had crept their way towards my armpit areas.  In other words, these girls were clearly not behaving in a manner I wished for.  In order to achieve the best looking and most desirable end result, my physician suggested lifting and tightening them both first and proceeding with a fat transfer at a later date.  If you think I didn’t beg and plead for him to do both at the same time, you would sadly be mistaken.  The doctor and my husband both acknowledged my displeasure but assured me the finish line is in my sight, it’s just going to take a little longer.

When I started this blog, it was always my goal to be as honest and transparent as possible.  For years now, I have been part of social media groups where those of us experiencing this path can go to share our experiences.  The highs and the lows.  The triumphs and the deflating moments.  I know I have shared a lot in three years, but here goes a little more. 

I need to warn you before I start, the best way I can refer to myself in this moment is:

I am an Irrational Dragon and these are my Inconsolable Thoughts

Recovery SUCKS!  It doesn’t matter if it’s one time or ten times.  It is lonely, it’s uncomfortable, it’s boring, it freaking hurts and it is something you essentially do alone!  Even with people by your side, your body must do its thing, and no one can do it for you. 

Also, since Monday, I have been MAD.  Mad at circumstances, mad I have this mutation, mad the threat of cancer has taken SO MUCH of me, mad that my hope of a one and done surgery is nowhere close to reality, mad that many don’t understand and ask questions like

• “Are you done now?”
• “Why would you go through another one?”

I know I will get through the anger and gratitude will fall back into place, but for today, I’m sitting here showing the world my state of ire and vulnerability.  I generally try to make things “okay” for others, but today the only others I want to make things okay for are those who understand this process, whether they have been diagnosed with breast cancer or recently found out they too carry a mutation that puts them at high risk for developing it. 

Throughout the past year, I have been taking some time to listen to the podcast “We Can Do Hard Things” by Glennon Doyle.  Her wife Abby Wambach and her sister Amanda Doyle join her on these casts.  I know this podcast won’t be for everyone for a variety of reasons, but they have provided me with some interesting points to ponder.  Personally, I have never claimed to be a Feminist.  There are parts of the division of labor amongst genders I like in my personal life.  Mowing the grass and taking out the trash are things I CAN do, but like pawning off to the men in my life.  One thing these podcasts have done is they have totally opened my eyes, mind and heart to the way the world often sees women.  I don’t want to go too far overboard, but I am shifting my thought process and challenging myself to listen and learn while speaking up and hopefully positively influencing others.

Why am I bringing this up?  Well, because it plagues me every single day as I struggle with my own self-image.  I am NOT happy with my breasts, nor do I love or give the rest of my body the love or credit it has earned.  In my head, I am often an overweight, less than average 50-year-old woman with Frankensteinesque boobs, and don’t get me started on the ups and downs of anxiety or effects of Menopause.  That can all be saved for another time. 

For years now, I have read hundreds of posts where women talk honestly about feeling guilty because they are unhappy with surgical outcomes and struggle because the only feeling they should have is gratitude.  Today I want to stand up and ask, why is it not okay to want or to have BOTH????

Why should women have to sacrifice our self-confidence and walk through life as deformed “lucky” ones?  I’m pretty sure that is not in the rule book.   IF you or someone you love has had a Mastectomy, let’s remind each other what cancer or the threat of cancer has TAKEN from us.  Let’s rally around one another and be there to cheer each other on as we tackle one, two or ten rounds of recovery.  Let’s make it okay to say, “today we are NOT okay, but maybe I will be tomorrow.”  Let’s be the ones to help change the narrative from having to be either (once again) comfortable and happy in our skin OR gracious and content to be alive to celebrating the joy that is found in BOTH!

I understand it is such a weird contradiction of feelings and emotions. Sometimes I wish I was confident enough in my own skin to tear these implants out and go flat.  Other times, all I want is to exude sexuality through a beautiful set of breasts.  I know all too well that they do not define me, but there are days when all I really want is to feel whole and unselfconscious again. I’m not sure exactly when that day will arrive, but I will keep fighting until it does.

Thanks for hanging in there with me today as I ranted and raved.  Once I am able to put this internal, irrational, fire breathing dragon back to bed, I have some pretty cool things to share with y’all.  Please stay tuned and know, I will forever fight for and try my best to be a friend to ANYONE going through a similar path.  We CAN have BOTH…..it just may take a little more time and a lot more patience to get there.

Peace,

Gina