The Days Before Surgery

We've made it.  One day before surgery.  A very long time waiting.

Two Days Before Surgery

I had the greatest pleasure yesterday as I walked into the PRMA center in San Antonio.  I met my hero.  I have a lot of heroes in my life.  My mother, my father, my husband, my children, several bigger named "celebrities"...and now, Dr. Chrysopoulo.  He will give me the gift of letting go of my fears.  I've lived with fears for years, as you read in previous posts, and I can't wait to feel at peace.  I knew I had made the right choice in Dr. C from the moment we "met" via our Skype chat, but now I knew for sure.  We met as I was waiting for my son to finish using the bathroom inside the PRMA office.  I was standing outside, in the hall, when along came Dr. C.  He smiled as he walked past me, when in a split second, he stopped and turned, recognizing me immediately saying, "I know you!  Hello!"  and a quick hug.  This, from only a Skype call months before.  That's the sign of a great doctor, one who is invested in his patients.  

Our meeting was very thorough, discussing every aspect of the implants I'd be receiving, taking measurements, discussing the actual surgery, taking photos and preparing me for what to expect after.  My legs apparently began to bounce more and more throughout the consult, as Dr. C pointed out how much more rapid my bouncing became the further into discussion we got. Nerves or just my normal leg bouncing activity?  Who knows.  I thought I was AOK with everything, but at the same time, I know I was also just going through the motions, still not really believing all of this was really happening.  I'm usually the sobbing wreck people need to calm down, but here, I was relatively calm.  I knew I was with the best of the best.  

I learned several things about the surgery that I really hadn't known about till that moment.  One being the difference between fibrous and non-fibrous breasts and how that impacts surgery time.  It was really reassuring to hear Dr. C explain how detailed he is in getting the fiber sprouts out of the fatty layer of the breast during surgery instead of cutting around them, and why the surgery can be about five hours long.  He's an artist.  He cares about not only making the final product look amazing, but about really getting as much tissue as he can out of there, even if that means painstaking measures such as following sprouts of fibrous tissue into the fatty layer and cutting them out.

After the appointment, we went to the pharmacy to pick up my many, many prescriptions and headed home.

The Day Before Surgery

Today couldn't have been more perfect.  We decided to head into downtown San Antonio and take in some sights.  We didn't, however, choose the normal historical sites, we instead chose a very different kind of day.  We took in the Ripley's Believe It Or Not Museum, the Guinness World Records Museum and some 3 and 4-D movies.  I can honestly say that I was so engaged in either laughing or grossing out at the things we were seeing that I didn't think about my surgery at all.  It wasn't until 6:30pm, as we were getting into the car to head home, that it all set in.

Guinness World Records Museum

When we got home, packing my hospital bag seemed like the next natural thing to do.  I've read so many lists on various blogs, all with suggested items to bring to the hospital or to have at home.  Weeding through the lists can be really laborious, so I just chose things that appealed to me and went with that.  As you can see from the photos, I have the basics with a couple "luxury" items to keep me smiling.  What's not pictured is my going home outfit (slip on skirt with a zip up cardigan), fuzzy slipper socks and my T-shirts and tank tops cut down the front to wear under my surgical bra.

Shower Pockets for my drains...they're neoprene so they're soft and waterproof,
sleeping mask cause I like them and button front pajamas in my favorite
Paul Frank just to make me smile.

                                     

Drinking cup with straw for ease, glasses as I wear contacts, throat lozenges to
soothe my throat after five hours with a breathing tube, pads since the
hospital won't allow tampons and face wipes.

This amazing, full-size blanket my mother-in-law made me to keep me
cozy and help me smile.

After packing, I took a few moments to myself, in front of the mirror.  Strange though it might sound, I'm going to miss my imperfect breasts.  They are no longer perky after nursing three kids, they have some stretch marks, but they are mine and they move with my body.  Sleeping on my stomach will no longer feel the same, nor my side for that matter.  I took a photo for posterity and for comparing when all is said and done.  I'd like to always remember the ones I was born with, even though they're programmed to potentially give me cancer.                               

Dinner tonight was pure comedy, which was much needed after that moment of reflection.  We were explaining the process of the surgery, once again, to our kids, as I said, "you'll have to get your last squishy boobie hug in the morning."  Of course they didn't know why it would the last one, so we tried to explain the implant.  My husband finally decides that telling them the implant was like a giant water-balloon gummy bear was a perfect example.  Everyone laughed and that felt good at this point in the game.

It's now 10:15pm here in San Antonio.  We are watching some episodes of Modern Family for some giggles, I've taken my last antibiotic for the day and I'm about to take my Hibiclens shower in preparation for the morning.  My last sleep free of implants.  No one can really help me understand what it will feel like to live with implants, but I can be sure that there will be differences and I'll miss my gals.

For now, I say goodnight.  My husband will post a quick note some time tomorrow with an update for those who have reached out through the blog.

Sweet Dreams.