11.01.09
Surgery #2
As my regular readers know I developed necrosis two weeks after the October 2nd breast augmentation and lift surgery in 2007. After several weeks of Hell I was scheduled for a second surgery on November 2. This surgery was for the purposes of removing the implants and the remaining necrotic tissue. We showed up in the afternoon at the surgical center – which we had to pay the fee for – I was prepped and before I knew it, part two of my nightmare had begun.
When I was able I looked at what had been done. It seemed, in retrospect, Frankenstinian. The line of vertical sutures looked like someone had whip stitched the skin together. I also found out that, on the left side, there had been a half inch spot left open.
I also found out that over 300 ccs of serous fluid had built up in each pocket. The implants were both intact. That explained the pressure and the bubble under my flesh. Fortunately this time the HiQ put in what passed for really crappy drains. He had inserted open-ended surgical tubing. The outer ends were covered in gauze to absorb the leaking serous fluid that my body produced. Compared to the closed-system drains I had after my reconstruction, these things were positively primitive.
I was also an A cup now down from a DD cup and before that a C cup. This wasn’t nesecarilly a bad thing. I finally had the ski slope breast shape I had been after from the beginning. By ski slope I mean the breasts that are heavy and rounded on the bottom and on the top the breast gently slopes down to be capped by a pert, rosy nipple.
I was just missing the nipple.
The HiQ assured me that after i had healed, we could do reconstruction. At this point I was already starting to have my doubts. But I’ll talk more about that later.
For those of you joining me from NaNoBloMo and reading my blog for the first time, please go read the first post for more information about what BoobCast is all about.
10.31.09
Zombie
While I was doing the wet to dry bandages before the debridment, I frequently felt like I was a zombie. No, I didn’t want to eat brains, though I DID want to severely damage the HiQ.
***WARNING! GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD***
No what I mean is that when I would peel off the wet to dry dressing and pull away bits of dead flesh, I couldn’t help but feel like I was, at least in part, an undead zombie. Here I was dropping bits of flesh. And that’s what zombies do…walk around, eat people and drop bits of their body.
Instead of eating people, I felt like this situation was eating me alive. And not just in the literal sense. I began losing myself to this situation. I WAS a bouncy, vibrant, spur-of-the-moment type of person before I became Zombie Maria.
It has only been in the last month or two that I’ve come back to myself. I’m not there yet. I still shamble a bit, though there are no brain cravings. And unfortunately I still haven’t gottten past the point of wishing the HiQ ill. I really couldn’t actually do anything myself. I’m not that kind of person. But you can damn betcha that I wouldn’t be feeling bad if he were to accidentally get his hands crushed.
10.15.09
What Is The Sound Velcro Makes?
This is going to be a slightly more graphic than usual post about wet to dry dressings and what necrosis looks like as it develops. So those without strong stomachs are cautioned. I will do my best to inject humor into this as I go. Humor and my support system are really the only way I survived this in the first place.
That, and I rediscovered the analytical part of myself. I mentally separated myself from the situation at hand. I used the phrase “THE breasts” as opposed to “MY breasts” and I never looked at myself in the mirror. So I dissociated to some extent while I was changing the wet to dry bandages.
Initially I didn’t really understand HOW wet the gauze was supposed to be. I was told by the nurse that the gauze should be damp. *I* thought that meant it should be dripping just a little bit. After a couple days I noticed there was little to no progress with the wet to drys. Progress would mean the removal of dead tissue. I was pulling off the occasional fleck here and there but nothing meaningful.
Let me explain a bit more about wet to drys. Once the gauze has been dampened in sterile saline solution, it is laid flat in one or two layers over the area to be debrided. It is molded to the body part so when it dries it is a bit like plaster. A successful pull makes a soft sound akin to velcro being pulled from its fuzzy moorings.
When I went back in for the next check up a couple days later the HiQ complained that there was not enough progress. I explained what I had done and was given the moisture level corrections. It seems that instead of dripping slightly, the gauze should be just slightly damp. Previous to this I had done what is called “packing” where the area is kept moist with wet salined gauze. Thus my confusion, I suppose. We’ll go in to packing later when things have gotten REALLY bad.
Once I had been given better information I was sent home for a couple more days. I was also told that I should only be changing the wet to drys one to two times a day. I HAD been changing them 3-4 times because that was what I had done when I was packing. No one told me to do anything different as far as changing went. Isn’t it amazing how nothing changes when there is no communication?
With the new changes I was getting more dead tissue off. When I pulled off the dried gauze it was definitely pulling away the blackened tissue. The HiQ had me do that for about a week and a half. In that time I still forbade Ken to come in during bandage changes and showering. No one should have to be exposed to that.
I had started crying at least every other day at this point and I was really depressed for obvious reasons. Pulling bits of dead flesh off your own body tends to do that. I was angry because I couldn’t get a straight answer out of the HiQ. The man had all the bedside manner of Dr. Mengele. Which was pretty evident by the “don’t scream” comment when he was sewing cadaver skin onto me and telling me that it was an extremely expensive treatment.
Really folks that all I can manage for today. Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you the Valium story.
10.13.09
Nipples Revisited
This weekend Ken and I drove down to Disney’s Vero Beach Resort. They have this great little second story restaurant that overlooks the ocean. We like to go out there, watch the ocean, enjoy the breeze off the water and get a little something to nibble on.
Saturday afternoon as we were getting ready to leave a couple came up from the water and sat down. She must have been cold because her nipples were fully extended through her swimsuit.
Up until that moment I was completely satisfied with the reconstructed breasts I have. Please understand that I love my Twins. The square-ish corners have evened out nicely. They’ve got a really nice rounded look to them now. They’re also finally soft and pliable while still being somewhat firm. Even without all those changes I would still be happy beyond words to have them.
I was really startled to realize that a part of me still doesn’t feel complete. I’m definitely not mentally ready to have another surgery. Even a minor one that only involves topical tissues. If I WAS ready we can’t afford it for a while yet. The nipple reconstruction will end up being around $9,000. About $7K for the surgery and the rest is the fee for the outpatient surgical facility.
Dr. Elliott always said that I would know when I was ready to have the first surgery. He said (paraphrased) that there would come a point where the feelings I had about the mangled wreckage that once was my chest would outweigh the fears I had and I would know when I was ready.
It is the same with nipple reconstruction. I know I am not ready for another surgery yet, financial situation aside. Having that moment of realization that I miss having nipples, however, is the first step in that direction.
10.09.09
Persistent Situational Depression
April 16th was a very good day. Aside from the morphine I was fortunate enough to get my breasts back. Not the originals, of course. These are the new and improved version. In JumboVision.
Yet it has taken me until today to see even more than a glimpse of my old self. I’ve been going through the motions of living distracting myself with new projects (http://www.fledgelingskeptic.wordpress.com) and just getting through the day-to-day aspects of living.
This afternoon I saw, for just a little while, that adventurous me. This is the part of me that takes unrestrained joy in just throwing a handful of clothes in a bag, getting in the car and driving just to see where we end up. If I had my way I wouldn’t be writing this entry right now. I’d be packing and getting ready to leave for who knows where.
Sadly, I don’t get to have my way. So that’s a bit depressing. This is the first time in years that I’ve seen that side of myself and it has been denied. Hubby would rather make plans for the weekend and stick with those.
While I’m depressed that I’m not going to be able to express that long-buried part of myself, I am so very happy to see that it still exists. I really thought it had long since died off. No more spontaneity. Ever.
I think that I had just gone through so much for so long that I got stuck in a situation-based depressive state. Now, almost six months after reconstruction, I’m finally returning to my old self.
I think it’s probably going to take a little while longer. I still have quite a bit of emotional recovering to do. I’m looking forward to the time that I don’t get sad during the first few weeks of October. I know that time will come. I just have to get to that point.
As people keep telling me, healing takes time. It’s not just the physical body that needs to recover. It’s everything else; the mental and emotional as well. It’s just a matter of time.
08.07.09
Why The Reboot?
I mentioned in yesterday’s blog post that as of Monday I would be starting my story over from the beginning. I’m sure many of you are wondering why. If you go back to my early blog posts you’ll see that although there is a little bit of detail, there are some unanswered questions.
When I first started this blog I was very emotionally unstable. I left out a great deal of detail simply because it was far too painful for me to talk about then. Now that I can think more clearly and have more distance, I can tell my story much better. The more details I can convey, the more benefit this blog has for you, the reader.
I’ll be taking the weekend off. Starting Monday 9/10/09 I’ll start back at the beginning. By the beginning, I mean I’ll talk about the self esteem issues behind the first plastic surgery and the role I feel society and commercialism contributes to low self esteem. In subsequent episodes I’ll also be talking about tuberous breasts and why they are considered a deformity.
To quote Heath Ledger’s character William in “A Knight’s Tale”: Welcome to New World. God save you, if it is right that he should do so.
08.04.09
Progressively Moving Backward
I am incredibly frustrated at how slowly I seem to be healing. Is this my body’s way of saying “Sit down and shut up!”? I had a couple days of higher level activity and last night I ended up taking half a Darvocet because I was spiking a 3-4 on the Oh-My-God-It-Really-Fucking-Hurts o’meter. Today I was a little sore but no big deal so I sorted piles of old mail. Now I’m at about a three again. I feel like I did two weeks out of surgery. I am ready and raring to go but my body itself keeps planting a metaphorical hand in my chest and shoving me back into the chair. I can almost hear some big tough guy from the Bent Nose Brigade telling me “Siddown an Shaddap”.
What’s sad is that in the back of my mind I feel like I’m being lazy. I feel like I should be doing SOMETHING. Yes I understand on a logical level that writing this blog helps people and that’s doing something. With our finances the way they are though and this being our business slow season I feel like I should be doing something to contribute economically to our household.
People tell me, and I’ve passed this advice on to others, my job is to heal. But for how LONG? Someone emailed me a few days ago saying she wants her life back.
So do I sweetie. So do I.
08.01.09
Nick/Tuck 2
I have gotten a couple comments about yesterday’s post regarding Nick Starr’s (http://www.nickstarr.com). Some of them concerning his mental health were very enlightening. The more I think about what I’ve been told, the more I become convinced that supporting Nick is the right thing to do.
Granted I don’t know the full story. I have been told that he was arrested for threatening to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge in June. I was also told that he has threatened suicide on Twitter multiple times. I have not personally witnessed any of this so right now it is all second hand information.
When I was going through the worse of my problems, I called suicide hotline. Even after, when we weren’t sure if we could find a way to pay for my reconstruction surgery, I had a plan in place for how to kill myself. I was so thoroughly convinced that I was nothing more than a mangled, sub-human thing that if I had to wait another three years or more for reconstruction surgery, I was just going to end it because while I was in that head space, my life was already over no matter what my friends, my husband or my family said.
Having been that totally desperate, I understand why Nick feels the way he does. People who have not been in the position of hating their bodies so thoroughly that they just wanted to end it, really cannot fathom why he would go to such extremes measures.
Many of you are probably thinking that his situation is different. He didn’t lose intimate parts of his body to necrosis and an inept surgeon. Very true. But he *does* hate his body for reasons he has explained in his blog.
I *would* like to see him get some counseling though. Surgery is not an instant fix. There is an emotional adjustment period and he’ll probably need some help making that adjustment.
07.31.09
Nick/Tuck
I’ve been following Nick Starr on Twitter and Facebook for a while now. Nick’s story is very inspirational. He lost over 100 pounds the old fashioned way. Simply through exercise and diet. Unfortunately the rapid weight loss has left him with some extra saggy skin. The only way to fix that is through plastic surgery.
Nick found a good plastic surgeon and he as started saving up. Unfortunately he needs about $6500 more for the tummy tuck. Of course insurance won’t cover it. No one will loan him money to have it done and he feels that he is at the end of his rope.
I’ve been at the end of my rope so I understand how he feels. What’s unique about this story is that Nick has come up with an extremely unconventional solution to his problem. He is going to become homeless. He is moving out of his apartment and on to the streets until he saves up enough money for the surgery.
He has a job so he won’t be hungry. He is simply giving up his apartment and other bills in order to save up the money.
If you would like to know more about Nick Starr and donate something towards his procedure, visit his blog here: http://www.nickstarr.com/
Yes, this is extreme. I understand why he’s doing it though and I admire his courage. I’d like to urge you all to support Nick so that he has to spend less time sleeping on the streets.
07.28.09
Weighty Issues
In “Midnight eMails” I asked Dr. Elliott a few things I had forgotten to cover in the office. One of those things had to do with weight loss and breast volume/size. In an earlier post I talked about how terrifying it would be to lose my breasts again because I lost a lot of weight.
It turns out that because this is living tissue, I would lose volume or size if I lose more than 30 pounds. So now I have a dilemma to consider later on down the road. I have no intention right now of intentionally trying to lose weight. At least I’ll know for the future and I can make a more informed decision.
Right now I have so much more to deal with. Like healing. Healing from the next surgery. Continuing to make the mental adjustments to where I am now. All of that is enough of a task for the time being.
