18 posts from August 2007

My boobs are actually doing great.  I couldn't ask for a prettier set, well I could but I would have to pay a lot for them.  For the most part I would say my healing has been going awesome, save for the previously mentioned freak outs and such.  everything has been pretty much business as usual.  Last week my sister sent me some beautiful flowers, and I will post a picture at the bottom of them, they were very beautiful, but sadly yesterday was their last day here with us as the lemons in them started talking and asking me for all sorts of stuff and really, I don't need one more creature asking me for things.

Have I ever mentioned how many creatures I take care of?  I have 1 husband (that I will admit to) 2 children ages 4 and 21 months.  3 inside cats, ages 8, 8 and 6 and many many many outside cats.  I didn't mean to become the neighborhood cat lady, since I am still pretty young for that, but it has just happened.  It started out innocently enough.  We went away for a week camping, when we came home and begun unpacking the car the above mentioned husband started tossing out all of the food that had gathered in there and this beautiful cat ran up and started gobbling down the chicken stars he tossed out as fast as he tossed them.  He came in and asked me for a bowl of cat food, because my husband, who claims to not like cats, loves cats. 

After that we started taking care of this cat, and for lack of imagination we named her Outside Kitty.  Occasionally she will bring a friend home, but she is the dominant cat of the front porch.  We have now acquired Outside Kitty, Tuxedo Kitty, Stripped Kitty and last night was the kitty that almost broke me.  We cannot have another cat in our home.  For one thing the three in the house smell bad enough but our youngest cat is also a bit of a bitch and refuses to be friends with any other cats.  She simply allows the two cats that we had before her live here because they were here, but if they step out of line she takes them down and has since the day she was brought home, also a sad little stray by the way. 

This new cat that showed up however broke my heart and made me cry, not that it takes much these days.  This cat was very hungry.  I went out to feed Outside Kitty and saw only her, but by the time that the food hit the bowl there was suddenly this gray and white cat in the bowl eating and Outside Kitty was just stunned, Tuxe and Stripes know better then to mess with her food before she is finished.  I quickly grabbed another bowl and filled it for her, but once again that little gray head was in it eating as fast as it could.  I picked it up to return it to the original bowl and that is when I noticed it.  Her eye is missing.  Not missing like it has been for awhile but this cat has recently had its eye damaged by something.  My heart just shattered for it.  I really hate that people will just throw away their pets, as this was clearly at one time a pet or else I doubt it would have been so willing to let me pick it up.  Same thing with Outside Kitty.  Tuxe and Stripes are feral.  I mentioned that I live in a hick town well I am in a brand new subdivision on a former Peach Orchard.  There is a large empty field right outside our subdivision that has a colony of feral cats so these two have just invited themselves over to help themselves.

I am thinking that perhaps the new cat, whom I named Winky got into a fight with one of the local chickens or something.  I did once see one totally whoop my youngest cats butt when she thought she was going to have her sum chickun fer dinner. 

The worst part of this entire process has been the emotional tailspin it has sent me into.  I have never claimed that I was an emotionally stable individual to begin with, I didn't however expect that a surgery I have dreamed of most of my life would send me into the spiral it has.  My healing process has been exceptionally dull.  I haven't had any problems that would cause me to be down, but then I guess that is the beauty of hormones.  They strike with no reason. 

I don't want to gloss over anything in this process.  I have tried to make light out of most of it, but I have to say without doubt that the anxiety attacks and mood swings I have been having are the single most terrifying part of the entire procedure.  This feeling like there is this ball of twine in my chest and it just starts wrapping tighter and tighter until I just feel like its going to burst out of my chest and that is about the time I lose it and start yelling at someone.  Or I start hysterically crying over something as insignificant as how badly Windows Vista sucks balls. 

I have spoken with my Dr and he is sure it will pass, but that doesn't make it less scary while its happening.  For now I have my Valium, and a prescription I really need to pick up from Walmart but just don't want to stand in a three mile long line to get it.  I don't have the patience for that right now unfortunately.  Hey maybe if I started talking to myself in the line about how I needed my psych meds the other people in line would run for safety paving the way for me to get to the front of the line. Hmmmmmm

I live in a small farming town.  A traffic jam here happens only from a few things.  Before and after school or if you get stuck behind a tree shaker or a tractor.  Or the occasional elderly person on a lark.  My Dr however is in the "big" city of Sacramento.  Now Sacramento isn't a big city in the sense of New York or Chicago ( I once saw an episode of cops in Sac and the most exciting thing that they did was chase a wayward bull back into his pen) but the traffic is hell.  Unfortunately the 45 minute delay at the Dr's office stuck me right in the middle of rush hour going home.  Now, I am not really antsy about driving in the traffic because I had the unfortunate experience of living and driving in Naples Fl for a year.  They had a few driving rules there that we don't here like, 3 cars will always run the red light, elderly drivers have the right of way and pedestrians do not. 

However I hate sitting in traffic, it makes me nuts.  The one thing I did learn yesterday is that a blinker is a sign of weakness at rush hour and I will never use one again.  I have only recently begun to use one again anyways after learning the hard way that in FL a blinker isn't used as a turn signal but rather a target for the elderly drivers to aim at.  I was seriously hit by an old man on oxygen once because I broke the cardinal rule of not letting three cars run the red and used my turn signal while making a left turn.  He didn't stop or even really notice I don't think.  My car was spun around backwards and I never saw where he went. 

When I finally got back to town I took my sister to dinner because she had been trapped at home all day while I had a pedicure and showed my boobs to my Dr.  The kids of course were with us.  I have never seen my children or hers for that matter behave so nutty.  I wouldn't say they were bad, because they are all still young but I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to be anyone at a table near us.  I swung through Carl's Jr to get the kids some food they would actually eat while my sister got us a table.  I figured that them having food right off would make it calmer and we would be able to sit and chat while the kids quietly ate and were quiet.  HA HA HA

The youngest, my son chewed up all his food and spit it out only while turned around to face the people behind us.  That is my biggest gripe with the, since I hate when strange children look at me constantly while I eat.  It makes me feel like I have to interact with them as well and as we have already discussed I don't like kids.  So I was on him about that, while my sister wrestled with her son and my daughter they were out of control.  My daughter jumped around like a monkey in a frying pan.  Whining and squirming.  Sliding off her seat and under the table, making a mess and just being loud.  My nephew brought this rubber dinosaur with him would wait until my sister turned her head and assault my daughter with it, which would make her screech like a dying rodent and slide under the table to hide.  The grand finale of the event was when my daughter switched to my side of the table while I went to pay.  My sweet little boy smashed her on the head with his cup making her act as though she were dying, and actually asked to go to the hospital.  FREAK. 

We pretty much gathered the kids and ran.  I was so over the entire day, hurting and just ready for it to end.  I was sweating like a body builder at the gym and I just wanted to get the kids in the car.  I wanted the day to end.  I pretty much came home after that and took two Vicodin.  Thankfully my sweet hubby was home shortly thereafter, at which time I locked myself in my bedroom and hid till the kids fell asleep.  Remind me never to take the kids out in public again until they are in their 20,s

So have you ever been leaning over too far while shredding documents and gotten your boob stuck in a paper shredder?  I didn't think so, and if you have, I think you are too dumb to read my blog.  However I am pretty sure that if that were to happen, it would feel exactly like what my boobs feel like today.  I went to my post op today, and to see if I needed more crazy meds.  Good news I DO, but only until I am over this surgery caused hump...he hopes.  I didn't pick up the prescription today.  I still have plenty of Valium and Vicodin so I should be good for a bit.  After my first appointment of the day I got a pedicure.  My very first in fact.  They are so very pretty.  Anyways that was a nice treat.  Then I went to Wal-Mart and looked for bras. 

I will say this up front, I AM CHEAP.  I don't like spending money  on myself, so as it was I was already guilty over that whole pedicure and then I go to try to find a bra under 10 bucks. Apparently there was an APB to all stores within a 50 mile radius to take any and all bras off the shelves that might fit my newly tiny D cups and hide them until I leave.  I think I might have mentioned yesterday that in the entire Target there were 2 bras in my size, and neither one spoke to me.  I have been wearing ugly bras for years and years and damn it I want something that makes me feel like a woman.  I recently purchased 3 bras from Fredericks Of Hollywood that would so totally fit the profile if it weren't for the fact that I could fit the cup over my head.  See once the cup is larger then a basketball it is no longer womanly and now in the freak show category.  I found one bra that I might maybe be okay with, however I ran into a new snag.  The back of the bra only has three hooks.  3.  Seriously, the last time I had a bra with 3 hooks I still had Barbies and Care Bears.  My back feels kinda naked with it on.  Maybe I will just go without a bra they are perky right now so I could pull it off.  You know except that my nipples aren't in sync with each other so I might have one that is hard as a rock and one that is all mushy.  Have I mentioned that my nipples feel just like a condom in a package.  They are firm around the edges but squishy in the middle.  Its strange.  When I was trying on bras I started to notice how badly my boobs were hurting.  When I took my sports bra off it made my eyes tear up it was that bad.  So I cut that trip short and headed on over to the Plastic Surgeon's Office.

Once there I checked in and proceeded to read my book.  It's Not News, Its Fark.  There was a large family there of about seventeen, most of them toddlers and all of them captivated with me.  Here is the thing about Audra and her boobs.  I have two little bundles of sunshine of my own.  Rarely do I find other children in public appealing to play with.  I have my own at home, I don't need to go elsewhere to ignore children and be on the internet.  Especially if I am actually out without mine.  I don't even want to see kids.  That is unless they are newborns.  Who couldn't love a newborn, and I try to always tell the parent that their child is beautiful because I remember being insecure and wanting to hear that non-stop when I had a newborn.  I will not however stop someone in a store to gah over their child.  Because I also remember needing to get through the store whilst setting a new land speed record so that I could have my child home to nap.  God forbid a nap happen in the car then my day will be shit.  I am off subject, where was I?  Oh yes the family with the 20 kids whom the parents just let run around and jump on strangers, greeaat.  At least I had Fark.  Hey and guess what, the Dr was 45 minutes behind schedule.  SUPER.  I couldn't even amuse myself with the guess the surgery game because there were too many of them to try to figure which was the patient.  Also I try to avert my eyes from strange children lest they think I want them to talk to me.  It isn't that I don't like kids, I just don't like kids that aren't mine or very close to me.  If I can't be comfortable enough to tell the kid to shut it, or to wipe their nose on my shirt, then I really have no interest. 

When I finally saw the Dr he told me what I already knew, my breasts are SPECTACULAR.  Ok so maybe what he said was that my breasts are healing great and that they are way further healed then could be expected and also I still can't go to the gym or shoot my gun.  He also said that my armpit fat will go down over time, but that they could only take so much out before they were just hurting me.  So perhaps that is why I am not that bruised, my Dr didn't take as much out.  That was pretty much it.  I will see him again in two weeks to see what he thinks then.  

I have a post op appointment today.  I am hoping to be cleared for the gym, but suspecting that I will be told I need to wait another few weeks.  I have no real basis for this suspicion other then I am a negative Nelly when I want to be.  I also have an appointment with my primary care to discuss those little attacks I have been having.  Its funny, they are almost manageable as long as I don't think about them, if I think about them though....its all over.  Just typing the word attack I could feel a jump in my chest and I had to breathe it out.  I want to avoid taking anything today and that is part of the problem.  See my doctors are all at least an hour drive away.  This is because my amazing husband commutes to Sacramento from our little ole town and his insurance only covers the UC Davis health group.  So you can see why I wouldn't want to be doped up for the drive.  The only problem I have is that my first appointment is at 11:45 and my second is at 3:15.  Whatever shall I do with myself? 

I am thinking bra shopping.  Here in Ruralville our mall is really sad.  We actually aren't that rural anymore so I am not sure why our mall still sucks but it does.  So I was thinking that I would go to a real mall, look at some bras, maybe a dress to wear to this thing I am going to with Dave on Saturday and perhaps....a pedicure?  I have never had one, ever.   So I am thinking some pampering is in order and well, my feet are looking sad.  Also I hear that they have these delicious massage chairs to sit in while someone works on your feet, so it sounds like a good way to kill a few hours. 

I did go bra shopping yesterday at Target, but I was sadly disappointed.  They had 2 in my size and neither were comfortable.  I probably wont be able to wear an under wire for awhile but all the cute bras are under wire.  I want something exotic, something feisty, something that would fit over my head too.  Is that so much to ask for?  Listen bra industry, fat, large breasted, post op breast reduction patient moms want sassy bras too.  Get with it ok.  I did however manage to end the mourning period for a recent household loss.  My trusty toaster oven went crumbs up last weekend and I hadn't gotten out to get a new one.  While at Target I found one that matches my kitchen perfectly and has a ton of neat features, so although sweet Toasty is gone, Toasty 2 will ease that pain.  It has a timed cook feature so that I can finally stop wandering off and forgetting about what is cooking.  I can just set it and forget it.....isn't that an infomercial?  So anyways, those are my plans for the day and what I did yesterday.  Wish me luck.

I just wanted to say that I have lost 10 pounds since my surgery.  10.  Pounds.  TEN.  Without any time spent on the stair climber, with having spent two weeks flat on my ass in bed with nothing but a laptop and a remote control for company.  Yay.  Now I shall bore you with not only my boobs but my ass too.  Lucky yous 

Recovery from this is really going a lot smoother then I thought it would.  Out of all of it I think the only thing that bothers me is the incisions under my right breast is so bumpy.  This is probably absolutely normal and all but It one of those irrational fear things.  I am afraid it will always be like that.  Stupid I know but there none the less.  I have a post-op on the 23rd and I am really hoping that I will hear, a great big, WOW you are healing great.  I really do think that my surgeon is an artist.  I am so in love with my boobies it isn't funny.  It is just so amazing to me, I always knew I was unhappy with my breasts because of their weight and length but I never realized just what an impact they had.  They really were an unsightly mess I had stretch marks on the tops of them, a rash underneath and between them and my poor poor nipples were just so strained.  Thankfully I didn't have the kind that look like a salad plate they were always on the smaller side but as my boobs stretched so did they so I am sure it would have been only a matter of time until they were bigger then a dinner plate and working on being the size of a serving platter. 

There is a little bit of worry though, I am afraid I will hear that I have over done it, or that something isn't right but I am sure that is also normal.  Or so I will tell myself anyways.  I also have an appointment that day with my general practitioner to discuss my anxiety attacks, although I haven't been having them for the last few days.  I did however bawl like a big fat baby over a show on Discovery Health about a woman who has a set of quads, a single daughter and then was pregnant with another set of quads and lost one.  So I know that the hormones are still there just waiting to strike.  However I at least was still annoyed by the show that followed about a family that had 2 single births then had quints or something.  I don't know why that story annoys me so, but it really does.  That along with the Duggar family.  Anyhow, I am really getting off subject from the original topic and I think we all know who to think for that.  That damn Jim Bob Dugger....wait I mean Vicodin and Valium, the deadly V's. 

Just kidding V's I really love you, keep making my boobies not hurt and my anxiety attacks go away. 

I kinda like that title.  The days and weeks since my breast reduction have passed by quickly and pretty much the same.  I was in a drugged up fog the entire first week, and to be honest most of the second week, and part of the third.  Heading into the fourth week though, I am feeling better.  In the two weeks my kids had to live at Grandma's they were my main concern.  Were they missing me, did they understand why they were there, where they happy, had they hogged tied my parents and started a bonfire.  Nature parental fears when separated from the little sunshines of their lives.  They got to come home last week, and I wont lie, taking care of them is rough.  They both weigh twice what they should for the fact that they both resemble underfed orphans.  I swear they are either 100% muscle or they have solid lead feet.  How can a 4 year old who if they were long enough would wear an 18 month pant, weigh 40 pounds?  Seriously the waist the best fits her is the 18-24 month range, but the length is like a 5 or 6.  I gave birth to a giraffe.  On the Sunday before they came home, I had a MAJOR panic attack.  It may have been an anxiety attack but since there isn't an M.D. after my name I don't think I need to give an exact diagnosis.  I was laying in bed listening to Dave play with my babies and I felt a lump under my incision.  If I understand correctly these lumps are normal and could be something as simple as dying tissue that will just get re-absorbed into my breasts.  However I decided that I had obviously torn something.  I should mention here that at my last post op I was told that I was over doing it in a big way and that my kids probably wouldn't be able to come home for another two weeks.  EEEP.  Not only did I not want them gone that long, but I was afraid my mom's head would explode.  Don't get me wrong, my mom absolutely LOVES my children.  She has an especially soft spot for my son who I call her trained monkey.  Its just hard to take care of kids this age, and a lot of work. 

The panic attack started easy enough, I was feeling that lump and started thinking, oh shit, they are going to have to go back in to fix it.  Fuck, if they go back in to fix it, that puts me at the start of the healing process again.  So I went out to my loving husband.  Don't get me wrong.  Dave loves me very much, and hates to see me hurting.  However Dave was born with a minor birth defect, he was missing the ability to lie or be anything other then painfully honest.  This is good in the sense that I never have to worry about him lying to me unfortunately its bad it situations where a white lie wouldn't be bad.  So when I told him I thought I was having a panic attack the response I was hoping for was that he would take me in his arms, tell me everything would be fine and that there was nothing to worry about.  What I got was "Is that even possible with the amount of Valium in your system"  At this point it full on hit.  I tried to fight it but instead ended up in my bed bawling like a baby.  I got it all cried out and then told him that I thought that I needed to get out of the house for a bit.  That did help and that night I apologized because along with the inability to lie, Dave startles like a deer in the headlights.  Where I was over my attack, Dave was probably afraid to fall asleep for fear I would stab him or something in his sleep.  Poor guy, he never saw what hit him when he married me.  LOL.  He doesn't quite understand depression anyways, however after having friends with girlfriends who refuse to get treatment for their postpartum and seeing what they have to go through, he appreciates my acceptance that I am bat shit crazy and need meds.

The attacks scare me because after having been on anti-depressants now for roughly 4 years, it takes a lot to cause an emotional downswing that will actually bring tears.  I can still be angry and happy however crying is generally reserved for major issues.  Before my sweet sweet pills I would cry over commercials,  things I lost, movies, songs, breakfast, lunch, dinner.  I think you get the picture.  However after them I cried rarely.  It was reserved mainly for when my babies were hurt and/or sick.  In fact the last time I cried before last Sunday was May 27th.  I can't pinpoint the exact time, but I can tell you that I was standing next to my son's crib at Flagstaff Medical Center, they were trying to draw blood from him and he was so dehydrated that they couldn't get any, on the third or fourth attempt, my sweet angel looked into my eyes and just so sadly cried Mommy.  I bawled.  You would have to be a rock to not cry at that.  Hell the nurses were crying and that is their job.  So when I get that feeling coming on it terrifies me.  I am seeing my Dr this week to discuss it.  I am really hoping it is temporary, possibly caused by withdrawals from my pain killers, which I only take at bedtime now instead of several times a day.  I really don't want to go on a higher dose of Zoloft and I would hate to add another pill to the cabinet.  Not to mention that living with that on a daily basis would be annoying.

So in a nutshell that has been my recovery, as the haze of drugs clear from my system I am sure I will remember more and I will tell you what I remember, but I still have un-recovered memories from high school drinking binges, so don't hold your breath.