The Adjustment

14 Jun

Something I’ve been meaning to talk about for some time now is my process of making the adjustment from having a mangled A- cup to what I now know to be an F Cup. This has been a tremendous adjustment for me <no pun intended>. Not only have I had to make mental adjustments, but I’ve also had to make emotional AND physical adjustments.  As I type this, I am tearing up because I STILL can’t believe that not only do I have natural, implant-free breasts, but I have HUGE, all-natural breasts. They’re mine. Not because  I bought them but because the tissue is mine. They are a part of me.

Granted, those parts used to be elsewhere on me. The Latissimus Flap procedure, as I’ve mentioned before, takes a piece of muscle from the back, as well as fat and skin which is left attached to the blood supply on one end and pulled through under the skin to the front and molded to create a new breast. After the complications from my initial augmentation, I have been adamant about not having implants. I will explain why in a future installment.

Mentally I’ve had to slowly coax myself into the realization that I am no longer a mangled thing. Yes, there are small scars but in comparison, that is so completely inconsequential now that it really boggles my mind. The first time I looked in the mirror and realized that what I was seeing was real, it shoved me headlong down the path towards feeling whole again.

Emotionally, blogging my journey has helped imensely. Knowing that I might one day make a difference in someone’s life has been a major motivating factor. One of my long-time Twitter followers, QueerCincinatti, actually linked to my blog and told me how much of a difference I’ve made. Check out that post here and susbscribe to the blog. It’s chock full of fantastic information.

I have tried for several weeks to write this particular post. It has been very difficult for me to find the right words. I’ve spent SO much time trying not to think about the wreckage that was my chest. Now that I am focusing on it, I find that I’m easily distracted. It’s like trying to drill glass. My mind skates over the surface of the topic and skitters off in a different direction before I can stop it.

Right now, for instance, I’m wondering if Ken needs help in the office or when we’re going to leave to run the couple errands I’d like to get done today. I’m also gauging how much pain I’m in and wondering if I should get up to take acetominophen or do I need a 1/2 Darvocet?

No, I don’t have ADD. I’ve just trained myself for the last two years to avoid thinking deeply and seriously about the situation surrounding my breasts or, until 6 weeks ago, the lack thereof. So please bear with me while I…oh look! A butterfly!

No. Seriously. I have to work on retraining myself now. I have to remind myself that it IS okay to look in the mirror. It IS okay to look down at my chest because I actually have something there to look at now that isn’t mutilated or damaged in some horrible way.  It’s going to take time to make that adjustment, too.

I thought I had made it to some extent. I was wrong. There are still parts of this that make me cry if I think about it. That’s just normal, human feeling. Recovering from major trauma takes time. Having breasts again goes a long way, but it doesn’t magically repair the emotional damage that watching the necrosis steadily eat away my breasts or not really understanding why it happened or even the emotional damage of having my concerns blatantly ignored by the first surgeon.

When I first started this post, I thought I would be talking about how I’m still adjusting to the size of the Twins. Really they still get in the way sometimes. The other day I actually whacked one against the doorjamb as I was exiting the bathroom!

It turns out though that after eight weeks the mental adjustment has gotten easier. I do occasionaly wake up in the morning feeling angry over what happened. Because this was the result of plastic surgery gone awry, we had to pay for the reconstruction ourselves. That really pisses me off to no end that people like me have no other option because cosmetic surgery is looked on as vanity-based or superfluous.

No one’s health issue, regardless of the initial reason, should be marginalized like that.

But again, I digress.

SEE??? It’s hard to actually stay focued on the mental adjustments I’m making. I’m thinking that I am probably not alone here.

Clothes shopping last week actually helped. I bough some new, sexy tops that showcase the Twins. Those really make me smile because I haven’t felt sexy is a VERY long time. Not because my Hubby hasn’t been supportive. He HAS been, telling me I’m beautiful no matter what. It’s just hard to believe that when I felt so mangled and sub-human.

I’m starting to come back from that though. I actually got called “gorgious” this morning by someone I’d just met yesterday. Yes, I got hit on 😀 That helps, though after all I’ve been through, it’s still pretty weird.

This post is running long so I’m going to wrap up this episode. I WILL be talking more about these adjustments though. And remember, dear reader, you are NOT alone. Email me. I am happy to talk to you any time.


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