Second Guessing

19 Oct

I have moments, and I suppose everyone does, when I wonder if I’m making the right decisions.  When I have these moments I start looking at other options as though the grass is greener somewhere over there.

Tonight I read a post from someone that I asked advice from.  It was suggested that I talk to other surgeons besides Dr. Elliott about the best possible way to reconstruct my breasts.  It was a very prudent suggestion and I appreciated it.  So I looked at the links.

Now I realize that I have not posted photos and I will not until the website is up and running.  So I can understand how she wouldn’t know of the extent of my current deformity.  So I shall explain.

Imagine, on my left side, a normal breast.  Now imagine it bluntly cut in half vertically with thick, ropey scar tissue where the nipple, areola and some tissue used to be.  On my right side, same thing except there is a slanted divot the width of a ball point pen.

I need a surgeon proficient in more than just implants and lifts.  I need a surgeon fully capable of completely reconstructing a breast from the ruins of my chest.  It will be like trying to build the Brooklyn Bridge with match sticks and crazy glue.

I found an amazing surgeon in Atlanta even though I live in Florida.  I really could care less about the travel.  Dr. Elliott is world renowned in his own right and studied under the surgeon who invented the most significant surgical procedure for breast reconstruction, the TRAM flap.  He also created techniques that advanced the procedure.

So I have to ask myself why I’m looking elsewhere for a surgeon.  Why am I second guessing??

I think it’s because, as I mentioned in “Scared and guilty”, I blame myself for what happened.  *I* chose the surgeon, so *I* let this happen.  So some part of me has GOT to be asking “What if I screw up again?”  What will happen THIS time if I make another bad decision?  Will I end up dead this time?

I’m torn because I’m afraid of making another drastic mistake but I also know I can’t live like this for the rest of my life.  The rest of my life would, quite possibly, be shorter if I had to stay this mishapen freak i see myself as now.

What I really need is for someone to tell me that everything is going to be okay and that when all this is over with i will FINALLY have the beautiful breasts I’ve always wanted.





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