The Itty-Bitty Titty Club
I did it! I got my breast implants removed and rejoined the Itty Bitty Titty club! (I’m sorry for your loss.)
Surgery celebration date: January 5, 2021.
I had to be at the surgery centre at 7am, so I stayed at a hotel right across from the surgery centre to avoid any delays or mishaps. This was a good decision as you’ll see shortly.
Let’s review…
After I arrive at the surgery centre, the nurse preps me and asks me questions.
“And when was your last period?” She asks.
“November.” I tell her.
She looks at me.
I want to explain that I’m almost 50 and premenopausal and have been taking an increasing amount of DHEA because I’m low but not sure how low and the doctor says I’ll know when I’ve hit the right dosage because they’ll be signs and skipping a period is one of the signs, but that seems like a lot of words so instead I reply with, “I’m not pregnant.”
She looks doubtful, “We’ll have to do a pregnancy test to be sure.”
I laugh while blurting out, “I haven’t had sex in eight years!”
She stifles a smirk.
I continue, “Which is really ironic given the work I do.”
She bites, “What’s that?”
I chuckle again, “I’m a dating coach for men.” Then I whisper, “Shh, don’t tell them I’m single.”
The Surgery
Warning: If you’re queasy, skip this part.
The nipples are incised off and set aside for later reattachment.
Then the surgeon slices down the centre of the breast from the nipple to the under crease, and finally, he cuts a nice sized (6.5″) smily incision under the breast.
Everything is flayed open to remove the “capsule” (scar tissue the body forms around the implant because the implant is a nasty, foreign invader) and scrape away any adhesion of said capsule within the breast pocket.
Then the surgeon does some kind of magic rearranging of the remaining natural breast tissue and puzzles the rest of the boob back together into an aesthetically pleasing shape.
I chose the most highly recommended private surgeon of this type of surgery even though the explant portion of the operation would have been covered by BC Medical if I’d chosen a qualifying pubic surgeon.
But the public system doesn’t guarantee removal of the toxic capsule (just the implant) and doesn’t offer a pathology report of the removed tissue and doesn’t offer reconstruction.
It wasn’t worth the savings.
After the Surgery
My friends, a couple, have arranged for the wife to pick me up at the surgery centre. The husband works evenings and leaves for said employment in the afternoon.
The surgery centre is 45 minutes from their town in unfamiliar territory for all of us.
The wife is old school, not knowing how to use GPS on her cellphone (her car doesn’t have it) and tends to be directionally challenged (she gets lost a lot).
Sure enough, after the pick up time passes along with another 45 minutes, she calls her husband, who thereafter calls me and informs that, not surprisingly, she’s lost “somewhere.”
Meanwhile, the medical team is shuffling patients around to accommodate my tardy ass. It’s a day surgery centre so there’s a schedule and limited recovery seating, but they’re good sports and I even get a cookie.
The husband suggests giving it another 5 minutes and if she hasn’t arrived by then, he’ll follow in her wake, collect me, track her down, lead all home and, hopefully, still make it to work on time.
The only problem with this plan is the husband is even less technically oriented. Not only doesn’t he have GPS, but he also doesn’t have a cell phone (#lifegoals!). So if the wife magically shows up, we’ll have to wait for him to get here before leaving rather than call off his retrieval of us.
Fortunately, the wife arrives within the next five minutes and the day is saved.
The funniest part is she’d dropped me off to a hotel right across from the surgery centre the day before!
Surgery Results
I’ll tell you, I was more worried about being unhappy with being unhappy with the results than the fear of the results themselves or any general risks of surgery.
I’ve spent the last 22 years with a D cup.
What an adjustment to my identity returning to an A cup would be, never mind the extensive incisions (thus, scarring) needed for the lift/reconstruction portion of the surgery—because no, unfortunately, the girls don’t spring back to their pre-enhanced, nubile selves.
I’d like to say I’ve come full circle in the vanity realm but I got the lift part of the operation because I am still vane and was not OK with empty-sock like boobs.
Thankfully, I am pleased with the results.
In fact, the silver lining is I probably won’t lose the weight I gained over Christmas—thanks to my sister’s generosity in shipping me a large tin of homemade cookies, fudge and other irresistible treats.
If I lose any weight I’ll be flatter than the pancakes I ate the for dinner the other night. So there will be no waif-like Anna J with a Halle Berry haircut.
Overall, I’m happy I went through with the surgery and the result is as good as God could have provided by my skilled surgeon, all things considered.
The surgeon had reminded me beforehand that I, “may not feel improved health. Not everyone does.”
Despite the new FDA black box warning that breast implants have a correlation to ill health (see BII), implants have not been definitively labelled as the causation of all associated health issues, of which there are numerous, other than in rare cases.
Nonetheless, I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired and am taking every possible health measure.
Also, I’d thought if I was going to do this, as mentioned in a previous post, I wanted to do it while single, not wanting to pull a bait and switch on some poor fella falling for my charm and charisma … and big guns. 😉
Not that I’m ready to date. I’m not.
I’ll explain more in my next blog, subscribe so you don’t miss it!
Sleep
The throat palette surgeries didn’t work. The sleep apnea machine didn’t work.
Doing my own research, I discover lack of vitamin D is associated with sleep issues.
I won’t go into the sordid details of how vitamin D affects sleep, but I will say I increased my vitamin D intake and have slept a little better since.
Then I discovered mouth breathing is associated with sleep apnea.
This led me to Breathe Rite nose strips!
Something no one suggested for me because I do. not. snore.
I do not snore because I am a mouth breather!
I am a mouth breather because my nose is chronically congested. #BII
Breathe Rite nose strips open nasal passages.
Eureka!
Long story shorter, nose strips plus mouth taping (just what it sounds like: taping the mouth closed) at night has greatly improved my sleep.
Hallelujah!!
Don’t get too excited for me though, at the time of this writing I’m still chronically exhausted, but I’m also healing from what I’m told is a major surgery.
Gut Issues
I still have SIBO, small intestinal bacterial overgrowth, and recently discovered I now also have candida, a yeast overgrowth.
Candida is caused by too much sugar consumption! #ChristmasCookies
Candida is simple to cure. #CutOutChristmasCookies
As soon as I get home from the recovery house, I will be doing a Candida cleanse.
Recovery House
My “recovery house“ is the basement suite of my very dear friends, the couple, who took care of me while I was too limited to take care of myself after surgery.
The first few days after the surgery and I couldn’t cut a lemon or brush my hair.
They were amazing!
I told them they should make a business of it. (She’s an RCA, Registered Care Attendant.) After surgery home care for the singletons of the world, brilliant! But they only wanted to take care of me because… #friendship #awww
For several days after the surgery, I was sore and sleepy and, thanks to the Tylenol 3s with codeine, super duper extra non-poppy, i.e. constipated.
Which brings us to…
A Shitty Situation
Warning: This next segment contains TMI that may influence your opinion of me as a sexy itty bitty titty club woman.
Still reading?
Now, who’s the sicky!
Ok, carry on.
My last bowel movement had been a day before the surgery.
I’d already been told the pain medication would constipate me so I start taking Senekot and Ex-Lax the night of the surgery.
The next day: no poop.
That night I up my dose of Senokot and Ex-Lax.
The next day: no poop.
That night I up my dose of Senokot and Ex-Lax.
The next day: plumbing leak, water shut off until plumber can arrive.
Senecot and Ex-Lax kick in: three days of backed up pipes—mine—evacuate my bowels.
I make it to the shitter with clenched cheeks just in time and hope like crazy this one flush will take care of my backed up bowels before the plumber arrives.
False hope!
But I do leave a note on the closed toilet seat: “Danger zone!⚠️”
Life in the fast lane.
–
I primarily did the breast implant explant surgery for health reasons, but I’m glad I did it, regardless.
I’m glad to be glad to be back to natural, war scars and all.
What have I re-learned?
- Sometimes, it takes time to learn to love what God gave you.
- If you have the financial means, or a big line of credit, you might spend a lot of money changing what God gave you before learning to love what God gave you. Any by “you” I mean “me!”
- Shit happens, sometimes at the least opportune times.
Homework:
Heal. Recovery time: 6-12 months for full surgery healing. Less, God willing.
Xo AJ
p.s. Reminder, unless we’ve shared a coffee, public comments are preferred over private emails to my personal email address.
If you don’t have my personal email address that’s an indication your thoughts would be most appreciated posted publicly.
Yes, even if this request makes you cranky and as such you express it in your public thoughts.
Why do I make this request of you?
Glad you asked!
Strangers take inappropriate liberties when replying privately that they don’t when replying publicly.
If you received this blog via email, replies to this email disappear into an internet black hole. (There’s an automatic filter set up.)
However, if we’ve shared a java, old friend, I’d love to hear what’s happening in your world via my private email!
If you still like me after all these restrictions and boundaries and want to buy me a coffee, or a car (I’m not fussy), you can do that here. #shameless
