Post Op

Monday was the big day of my surgery. I couldn’t eat 8 hours beforehand so I made sure to get up at 6 AM to drink coffee and eat some eggs. I really wasn’t too nervous all morning and I made sure to do a lot of wrestling, hugging and playing with Jack and Ty, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to for a while. Around noon Brian and I left for Paradise Valley, the Mecca of plastic surgery in the area. We had to arrive 1 ½ hours beforehand. First I had to fill out paperwork. Then I had to take a pregnancy test. Given that I hadn’t had any water since 6 AM, I was able to squeeze out three drops but apparently that was sufficient to confirm that I was not with child. I explained to the pre-op nurse that I needed all the help I could get to avoid a pukefest after coming out the general anesthesia. I threw up for 48 hour straight after getting my wisdom teeth removed and ended up laying on the floor of the restroom of an urgent care for several hours until they gave me a shot of Tigin and Demerol. Plus I was sick like that through my pregnancies. So they agreed to pull out all the stops to try to avoid me getting that sick. I also asked if they could do the IV in the private room with Brian there because I’m a big wimp about that too. The nurse said most likely not but I would need to talk to the anesthesiologist. We waited a while longer in the room and I heard the doctor in the hallway on the phone. When he came in I asked him if he was lifting weights. He said No and that he was wearing scrubs with sleeves (these are references to Dr. 90210—Dr. Rey who lifts weights before each procedure and wears sleeveless scrubs to show his biceps). He said, “Full C, right?” and I grimaced. It was what I said wanted—everyone told me to push the limit because EVERYONE wants to be bigger than what they originally asked for. He drew on me and I made one last plea for him to make me look normal and natural. I really didn’t have any more questions so he left and we waited a while longer. I was starving to death and couldn’t stop thinking about In-and-Out Burgers with milkshakes. Finally the anesthesiologist came in and he agreed to do the IV there. I asked him for a feeding tube and could they put a milkshake in there? He thought that was funny. We made fun of his glove that had the finger cut out. I mean, why wear the glove in the first place? But he had me laughing so much (even before the drugs!) that my most feared part of the whole thing (the IV) was such a non-issue. He asked if I wanted a little something extra to relax—that it was like a couple drinks. I asked if it was like 2 Coors light or 2 Guinness’s. He said 2 shots of vodka so I went for it. Next thing I know I’m wheeled into the operating room and the doctor says, “1000 cc’s right?” and then I say, “Don’t forget about my Brazilian Butt Lift”. And then I’m waking up to a nurse giving me ice chips.

Of course my first question is, how big? See the doctor and I agreed that he would start with 325 cc’s and he would overfill them from there. She said, 375 cc’s and 415 cc’s. I’m sure my eyes bugged out of my head. Apparently the doctor told Brian that when I was lying on the table, it was clear I had absolutely zero breast tissue left and so they had to compensate for that. He didn’t think I would have been happy with the 325’s. He is probably right. That is why there should be three names for this procedure instead of two: Breast Augmentation (you’re just small going bigger), Breast Reconstruction (your breast tissue, skin, some muscle, etc was removed because of cancer) and then Breast Replenishment (your breast tissue was viciously pushed aside for the more aggressive mammary glands to feed your children and withered away never to return again).

I would have to equate the feeling and recuperation very similar to anyone who has gone through an extreme post-partum engorgement (like myself) where I was about a size E, very swollen, very painful and feeling like I’m being crushed by two heavy bowling balls on my chest. The upside to the breast augmentation is being knocked out by narcotics and not having to get up with a newborn. On the other hand, a breast pump doesn’t do much to alleviate the pressure of an implant. The scariness of their appearance is also like when I was engorged with milk, although I would say I was actually bigger when engorged, or maybe they were more like perfect giant shiny orbs. With the augmentation, my pecs are pushing the implant upward and the breast is swollen so from the side it looks like the nose of a Charlie Brown character. This is all normal and I hope it drops before I go to work.

I did throw up a few times which took a while to get the pain meds up to the appropriate level but I got some sublingual Zofran and that helped a lot. Mostly I have been alternating between the pain meds and valium and sleeping a lot. I’m bored but too tired to go out anywhere and too afraid of Christmas shoppers. Mostly I want to pick up my boys and give them big hugs. I think that’s the hardest part of the recuperation of all! I hope all my readers have a great holiday with their families.