Just Like The Real Thing, Only Smaller

Alright, I know my stories are usually about the utter health hazard that is my little porn store, but I haven't been there in almost a week, so I got nothin'. Instead, I figured I'd fill the space and keep you somewhat entertained with the harrowing tale that is my breast reduction surgery. Trust me, it'll be great. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll squirm with utter revulsion when I get to the part where they had to temporarily remove my entire areola/nipple and sew it back on later.

Tuesday, June 8, 2004
Even before I came anywhere near a scalpel, I started freaking out. I went to work that night and right away asked Friend/Boss if he would pick me up. Of course he showed up without fail, (even earlier than usual) and did his usual admiral job getting me to laugh and make light of a situation that quite honestly was scaring me to death. When we pulled up to my door, I briefly contemplated conducting a scientific experiment on the spot to prove that if I stayed in the car, the sun in fact would not rise, and therefore tomorow would never come. After Friend/Boss shot me in the leg with an elastic and told me to get out of his car, I thought perhaps it would be best to go rather than possibly have my theory prove wrong.
I spent the next hours getting a lot of last minute cleaning done and not much else. My parents would be coming for me around 6:30am, so there was no point in even trying to sleep.

Wednesday, June 9
Once we got to the hospital, the nervousness really set in, along with a strange sense of calm. Tiny, tiny calm. There was no turning back now. I was admitted and led to a ward to be prepped and just wait. In the ward, a nurse handed me one of those lovely backless hospital gowns, told me to strip down to nothing and put it on. Okay...I saw that coming, but there was a slight hitch. I leaned over and informed her I was on my period, (nice fucking timing) so could I keep my underoos on? "Nope," she said. "They need you completely bare under the gown. I know it doesn't make much sense, but that's just how it is."
"Um, okay," I said, "but what am I supposed to do?"
"We'll just give you a pad to lay on, and one to just place in between."
That sounds nice and dignified, doesn't it? Well just hold on, it gets worse later.

During the wait time, my mother sat with me making idle chat. Most of the time, the woman can drive me mad, but I am the biggest wuss in the free word and despite any attempts to come off as strong and independent, bottom line is, when I'm scared, I want my mommy.

Eventually, the doctor who would be performing his increadible shrinking boobs trick on me came along to play Picasso on my chest. Maybe it's just me, but having some strange (albiet nice) man fondle my boobs just sucks. Needless to say I was nervous but ended up laughing most of the way through it. He came in, talked to me about the procedure itself, then said "Okay, so you remember this from last time. I need you to lower your gown now."
"Yeah, that was always my favourite part," I muttered.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"Oh, nothing. I was just being sarcastic," I said.
"Sarcasm," he said. "Okay..."
And as he sat before me drawing his little road map all over my peaks and hills, he told me the story of when he did this same procedure on a 65-year old woman who reminded him of his grandmother. This woman apparently wasn't getting it much at home, and remarked that she was going to get her husband a set of "these pens so we can do this at home!"
That story and little remarks like "...and we'll be using general anesthetic just to be nice..." did a lot to take the edge off.

By the way, have you ever had an iv needle put in your hand? Holy hell those things hurt! Christ, it's been 5 days, and I still have a giant green bruise on my hand.

Soon enough, it was time to rock and roll. They tried to get me to lay back in the bed as they rolled me to surgery, but I was way too nervous. I sat bolt upright in the bed as it rolled down the hallway and started to cry. They parked me outside the operating room where people like the interns who would be watching/assisting and the anesthesiologist came out to ask me questions. They all acted like they were sympathetic to my fear, but I think secrectly they were all laughing at what a wet weepy mess I was.
Finaly they rolled me into the room itself and slid me onto the narrow little table where they strapped me down! Oh shit, I knew it! I'd been set up. This was no medical procedure. I was about to be executed for all my crimes against man! Death by gas! Wait, let me explain! That asshole customer #1101 just got in the way of that arrow. I swear, I was just looking at that crossbow....

Next thing I know, I wake up in recovery in a fit. Or at least, I think I was having a fit. Seems like I started crying even before I woke up, and there was an oxegyn mask on my face I kept trying to take off. The nurses kept telling me to calm down, but all I knew is that I felt royally fucked up and my chest hurt like hell.
Eventually, I guess I'd calmed down enough for them to remove the oxegyn mask and I started begging for a glass of water. I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since midnight the night before, and I had zero spit left. The one nurse let me have a sip of water, and another let me have a few ice chips. Seconds later I puked all over the floor. Damn, so far this had been a great day. I remember apologizing to the nurse for tossing my cookies all over her floor, and watching her wipe it up reminded me why I would never ever, ever want to be a healthcare provider.
Later on I was taken to my room to spend the night. At this point I'm still pretty out of it and as I slid over from the gurney to my regular bed, the pad that they gave me to just "put there" slipped and fell to the floor. I didn't realize this until one of the nurses (who was unaware that I was riding the wave) picked it up with her fingertips and asked no one in particular, "What the hell is this?" Another nurse turns to me and asks "Are you on your period?" I nodded and before I could say anything, these two team up and practically diaper me with lighting fast speed! (See, I told you it gets worse).

Sleep came fast after that, and I remember dreaming about thunderstorms and this repetetive beeping. (Turns out while I slept, there was a huge-ass storm raging outside and the beeping was the heart-monitor I was hooked up to). When I woke up, my parents were there, and I regaled them with stories of what I thought was my utter annihilation and the two nurses of Team Diaper My Ass until my friend from out of town, Julia showed up. My parents took off, and Julia and I had an awesome visit until I started falling asleep on her. Just before she left, one of the interns came into check on me. As he stood by my bed talking, I started feeling queasy. He came closer to take a look at my bandages, and I told him he better back up or I was going to puke on his shoes. I barely missed. Considering I hadn't had anything in my system for about 17 hours at that point, I had no idea where I was coming up with stuff to, well, come up with, but there it was. I apologized profusely to the poor guy for almost chucking on his sneakers, (he was very nice about the whole thing) and after assuring Julia, who looked absolutely horrified at this point, that I was fine, I promptly passed out.

When I woke again, I saw something colorful sitting on the table at the foot of my bed. I sat up and realized it was a bouquet of flowers and a card from my friend, Chris. I called her up and she told me her and a friend had stopped by but I was dead asleep. Rather than wake me, they tried to check out my new boobs, but to her dissapointment, I was wrapped up too tight for her to see anything.

I fell asleep again, and woke up just as my two sisters walked in the room. They brought me great presents like chocolate and new bras! Pretty bras with thin little straps. Wow, I never had those before!
Anyhoo, at one point, the conversation turned to the after-affects of my surgery like the scarring. Now for those of you who don't know, in a reduction, they make a cut underneath along the base where the breast meets the chest. They make one up from the center of the base cut to the areola. Then they cut the areola along with the nipple off and sew it back on when they're done. My one sister was unaware that they actually cut something off and put it back later. She kinda freaked. "They cut it off?? I thought they just made a little incision and sucked out the extra."
"Well what would they do with the extra skin?" My other sister asked.
Well that makes sense, but the knowledge that there's actual removal of body parts did not sit well with her. I'm not sure why. It's not like they didn't give them back, and they're just as sensitive as they ever were. In fact, just to prove that I have in fact, SuperNipples, I experienced some rather significant THO after I got out of the shower this morning. Nothing except my new t-shirt bras can keep them down. Go SuperNips!

The next morning I was being released, so my mother was there right at 7am. I layed there talking with her when this nurse poked her head around the curtain, looked at my mother and said, "Um, visiting hours aren't until 4." Neither of us said anything, so the nurse repeated herself. "Visiting hours aren't until 4. You're going to have to leave." My mother tried to explain that I was being released that morning, and we were just waiting for my father to call so he could pick us up. Either the nurse didn't hear her, or she only had the ability to speak one sentence, because she repeated herself again. I looked at her and said, "She's not a visitor, she's my mother. Why can't she be here?" Nurse Bitchy ignored me and repeated her one and only sentence again. Rather than argue, my mother agreed to leave, but she would be in the waiting room at the end of the hall.
Thankfully all the other nurses who were looking after me were much nicer. Too bad one of them wasn't the one to come in and remove the iv from my hand. I was falling asleep again when Nurse Bitchy came in. Instead of softly calling my name and lightly rubbing my arm to wake me up like all the other nice nurses, she barked my name and poked me in the arm a few times. Then she leaned over, ripped the tape off, and ripped the needle from my hand splattering blood up my arm in the process. Yeah, that felt nice. Thanks so much.
Later, after my father had called a few times, my mother came back to the room just in time to help me make my way to the bathroom to pee, return to sit on the edge of the bed and throw up. Again. Thankfully she was quick with the chuck-bucket, but she told me later I crushed her hand. What a nice way to make a last impression on people by having them watch me vomit water and break my mother's hand at the same time.
The actual sight of my boobs the first time I saw them was scary. They were covered in huge bruises, stiches, and tape. I was really happy with the shape and newfound perkiness, but to see them so beat up was just plain frightening.

I stayed at my parent's house for the next 5 days. I spent a lot of time sleeping and not eating. I spent my nights having trippy dreams (polar bears, giant cracks in the road and chocolate doughnuts in England) and my days coming down from the Percocet I was on for the pain. I woke in the morning in crying fits and once I was completely off the Percocet, I was lucky if I got two hours of sleep a night. The pain lessened everyday, but I'm still healing. I still can't wear a bra, and have to be constenly wrapped in gauze and a fishnet shirt to hold it all in place.

Now I've been at my own home for a few days. Things are slowly getting better and a little easier, but I still need help. I can't lift anything heavy, and I can't completely stretch my arms above my head. I itch like mad, and I can't move around the way I could before. I can sleep on my one side without too much pain now though which is great. Because of that, yesterday was the first time in 3 days where I actualy slept through the night.

Without a doubt, this has been the most sureal thing and the hardest thing I've ever done. Most of the time I'm just plain uncomfortable, but I would do it all over again. It sounds lame, but having this done has really changed me in ways I never thought it would, but most importantly, I'm free of back pain and have nice perky boobs that will fit nicely into bras made of silk and satin rather than industrial strength canvas and elastic.

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