The business of having two boobs, that is. (Alert, if you have any discomfort with the word "nipple," you might want to read a different blog today.)
How are y'all? I'm doing really well. Yesterday was the first time since my surgery on Wednesday that I felt like my normal energetic self. I spent my last convalescence credit last night, to get out of washing actual shit off the dog. (I'm sure that Matt would chime in here and explain that there is no way I would be doing that job even if I were at peak fitness but whatever.) And my mom and dad left my house this morning, so I guess I am returning to duty.
I wasn't too, too nervous on Wednesday morning, and seeing Dr. Hottie in the pre-op room put me at ease. She drew all over me with a marker, and we were asking her how she would do the nipple reconstruction, and she was like, "Well, I've got a few ideas, we'll see when we get in there, there's lots of ways to make a nipple." Matt said, "Really? Because I would have thought there was maybe one or two." Then we laughed. What do we know?
But she was as good as her word. It looks amazing. That woman is some kind of wizard.
I mean, I thought that the nipple would look like something. I thought the goal would be to fashion some little origami thing that would be in the right place and would be basically 3D, but that wouldn't really look all that great. But she made a nipple-looking nipple. I still don't totally understand how she did it. I know that she used some of the scar that was there from my surgery last year. And pixie dust? I don't know, there was some major skill involved.
I guess that with state-of-the-art plastic surgery, you can have a nipple just anywhere you want. So keep that in mind.
I woke up in the recovery room in the biggest most industrial-strength sports bra you have ever seen. There's a little tag inside that says it's the "Sweetheart" model. Yeah, right. This is a bra you speak to with "Yes Ma'am" and "No Ma'am." They told me I had to wear it all the time for two weeks, except when showering or washing it. It looks like something from the Soviet People's Number 1 Unmentionables Factory, circa 1960. It is a serious thing. I have pretty much gotten used to it, except you know that moment at night when you would normally take your bra off? Not taking it off is kind of a bummer.
And I have a thing that's like a little nipple cozy to wear for two weeks.
Lots of pleasant mental pictures for you guys.
So I woke up wearing Madam Bra and I really didn't have much pain. I took the meds they gave me for a couple of days, but I haven't needed them since. I'm still supposed to stay away from strenuous exercise while it heals, but I'm at least upright all day and not needing a nap every afternoon. The human body is amazing.
Also amazing are my parents, who came last Tuesday and ran the household until this morning. Matt and I slept in like teenagers every day, while they got Laura to her bus stop in the morning, then fed and dressed Hank and got him to school. They also cooked and cleaned, and kept me company while we watched the South get ravaged by tornadoes that scary night, then the fancy wedding, then the news about Bin Laden. What times we live in.
And Laura had a swim meet, and we half-raised our neighbor girls, and Matt's company added a new employee and there are four guys working in what used to be my guest room, and, as mentioned above, the dog rolled in something bad, really bad. It was a full week.
Thank you for your prayers, hugs, and good wishes. I hope you are all in the pink.