A visit with the plastic surgeon

Every once in a while I think, “Maybe I shouldn’t share so much.”  Especially when I’m moping about things post-surgery.  Because when I read some of posts after the fact, I sound pretty pathetic.  But you need to understand—I don’t like taking breaks.  I find getting things done and being active relaxing.  So being forced to sit and do nothing is very frustrating.  I’m told that not everybody is like this.  Now imagine having to live with somebody such as myself and you can imagine some of the challenges that Aaron faces as my husband.

Earlier this week I had a trip to the plastic surgeon.  As you know from past posts, this is always a fun experience for me (please note my sarcasm).  As somebody that likes to connect with people, I get frustrated when I don’t.  I’m pretty sure this guy doesn’t smile.  Ever.  I have to remind myself that I don’t have to like him.  He does amazing work, that’s the point.  I don’t dislike him as much as I did when I first met him, but I still dislike him.  To make matters worse, this visit was…awkward.  He took pictures, which was uncomfortable.  He did that at my initial visit, but he wanted updates.  Everyone's staring at you, you feel violated.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  Needless to say, I more than earned a glass of wine that night.

A prize for my visit to the plastic surgeon

 

The surgery is tentatively on for August 18.  I'm just waiting to get the confirmation from the surgeons.  They will move fat and tissue from my belly and these will be my new boobs.  Some people have asked if I have enough fat for this.  It's very sweet of you to say so, but the answer is yes.  The plastic surgeon got a good feel of my fat yesterday too.  To his credit, he did say they’d be small.  A little tummy tuck and a lift?  Sweet.

This recovery will be the most difficult one out of all the previous surgeries.  It’s four to five days in the hospital.  I really hope I have a better roommate this time around.  Similar to last time, I won’t be picking anything up for two weeks.  He said to expect to lay low for about four weeks.  I keep telling myself I’ll be better this time around, but who am I kidding?  It will be so weird to be in the hospital for that long.  If I’m lucky I’ll be home earlier.  Although since I’m probably a low readmit risk, I’m a good opportunity for the hospital to make money.  The last sentence is a joke for those of us in healthcare.

Eventually I’m going to run out of things to talk about that are cancer-related.  Really the only thing left is my reconstruction at this point (hopefully).  I imagine I’ll do a post when I hit my anniversary too. Which is a good segue to a post I wrote a few weeks ago about my new blog—book reviews.  Let me know what you think!