This is Why I Take Pictures

I am figuring that some see this as a fashion blog; others see it as a weight- loss blog; and now, with the advent of all of my BOOB DRAMA, it has become a hereditary breast cancer awareness blog.

Underneath it all,  though, this blog is a very imperfect (and partial) account of how I am learning to live my best life.

I take photos because I have a bit of body dysmorphia-- can't tell from a mirror whether I look fat or thin or somewhere in between.  But a picture-- a picture-- keeps me honest. I can see from pics what clothes look okay and which ones to retire, which colors look blah and which really pop.

That said, it was a picture that convinced me to keep going with the fills, even though they hurt.  I'm posting the picture here...to maybe help someone some day. I'm not wearing makeup and my hair is pulled back the way that I sleep in it, and OMG my arms but here goes...

{leather- trimmed pants- elie tahari;
tank-spanx}

Yeah, I want a lil' more up top than this.

Re: pain--I will make it my business to dope up more and make pain management a priority before and after fills.  Recently with the crushing deadlines of my dissertation, I've tried to take as few meds as possible because they make me slow and sleepy and dumb.  But for those days, I'll take numb and dumb...so that I can get through this.  

By the way...Sunday, like magic, all the pain is gone.  It's so cool how the body can adapt...

xo,

13

Advice from my Sister- friend

She is a nurse anesthetist who has been on the back end of many implant surgeries as a nurse, and has been walking me through the process.  She has also known me since we were...8. Memphis church, three different schools, college roommates, NYC, Philly...all together. It's the first time in our lives we've been apart. 

{gap turtleneck; love divya fur vest; levi's;}

Anyhoo, she suggested that in order to get a better sense of how satisfied I am with this size, to go shopping. Now...we love shopping, but this time she said to go with a purpose in mind-- to see how I'll look in different clothing.  She suggested trying on a swimsuit top, a strapless dress, turtlenecks, workout tank, a pretty bra-- basically anything I couldn't /wouldn't  really wear with my larger breasts-- to determine if this size is a stopping point.

I am in a lot of pain after my fill this week and want the fills to STOP.  This pain is clouding your decision, she says.  I'm a B cup and have wished all of my life to be bigger. 

It's hard, because I was an F cup and always wanted my breasts to just GO AWAY.  Especially after my sister died of good old breast cancer...I felt like I was next.

So if I feel better later today I'm going to hit the stores, which are right now in that weird transition time from winter to spring...pretty much everything from sweaters to swimsuits is on display. 

I suppose I'll give it a go.

xoxo,

13

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: Lucky Seven (weeks post)

So I'm 7 weeks out from the big boob chop. I finally feel back up to snuff.

There are the little matters of:

-muscle twitches where my breasts used to be;
-sensitivity to cold (or even to cool); and
-sucky sleeping from these cup- like contraptions called expanders.

I still do not regret it, even though I was looking at myself naked today and was like whoah...my "breasts" look like a war zone.

In clothes, however, I am liking the lightness of my A+ cups.  I feel as if I look like a B, no? I have no frame of reference except my kind plastic surgeon and another friend who both showed me the profile of their "true" B cups.  (And both of them are small Asian women. Which I am not...didja notice?)

I finally feel as if my breasts aren't "in the way."  The nurse who does my expansions says to keep going, that I'll be too small if I stop now. 

What do I know? It's all just a guessing game to me.

I keep having to remind myself to trust.

xo

Currently Wearing

This bra:

gap racerback bra

It's stretchy and feels almost like nothing, but in a good way.  There's a Gap on campus and so twice this week while leaving campus (blush) I stopped in to get one.  Hey, whatever gets me to the library...

In the meantime my back hurts. I know it's still those yucky muscles stretching but damn. I sleep sitting up and wake up moaning.  And...I am tempted to STAY this size. Perhaps I'll rustle up the energy to post a pic tomorrow, but the good nurse says I'm an A cup. Not even a B? I have no point of reference except HUGE so this size seems nice and small and unobtrusive to me.

I could get with a B.

I am delaying bedtime, like a child, because sleep is so uncomfortable.

Cupcakes and rainbows, eh? But alas, no cancer.  I keep reminding myself of that.

Conference, Schmonference

So it went well.

I don't think I've ever been so excited about my career before...I love writing, love presenting, and have found a formerly undiscovered niche within my field that I know we'll continue to see more about.  And I get to be one of the folks who studies it!

Also present were several of my cohort members, new babies in tow.  My, how time flies. I remember when we were all just entering our program, scared and nervous and stumbling over the 2nd years who used words like "solipsistic." 

It was the first time some of the old the group got to see me post- mastectomy.  I kept wondering if they could feel the plastic and metal when they hugged me! 

xoxo,

13

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: My Life 6 Weeks Post

After week 5, I noticed something: my stamina was back!  I could read and work for hours and hours!

Of course that came with the very real actual work. 

FORCE Meeting Sunday was good. They are truly a special group. As always, it was nice to hear others share their experiences.  There were a few new young women in the group. I think of myself last year...so scared.  Begging pops for our family's medical info that, as he shared it, kept getting gloomier and gloomier.

Newest issue: sleeping. Having expanders is like having plastic cups in your chest, and they are hard as-- well, as plastic cups.  I wake often during the night; last night I made it until 4 am before just getting on up and doing a little work...and finally passed out again about 6.  Now that I'm a coffee enthusiast, I don't panic as much about sleep, but I can feel some lasting effects if I go several days in a row with too little.

Tomorrow is my 4th fill. I'll admit I am scared SHITLESS after that last one.  I plan on going totally  doped up, dissertation be damned...for an afternoon, at least. 

And finally...I am losing weight.  My sixes are back in the mixes after years gathering dust.  Of course my stomach looks like a giant loaf of bread now that I can see it beyond my formerly F- cup breasts.  But apparently I'm a six sometimes up top too...first time ever. But damn, my wubba is huge. (I did work out 4 times this week...just sayin'.)

Slow progress on everything: dissertation, weight loss, reconstruction...

Blue

I do my fills on Fridays so that I can recuperate over the weekend.

Third fill = pain.
Yes, pain, finally.  I called my mom in little-girl tears.

I took pain meds for the first time in...weeks. It hurt to breathe. I heard myself moaning all night.  By morning, I still hurt, but by afternoon, I was fine.  24 hours and it was like it never happened.  Except now...I have a little projection. Went out for dinner with a girlfriend, even. Did a little work on the big diss.

But. I. Was. Scared.

I get this pain over my heart that used to be the weight of my breasts. Imagine that muscle stretching. Every movement, every inhale.  Remember me? it said.  I do now!

It's over now but it's been a hell of a weekend. A FORCE meeting today almost an hour out of town. I'm annoyed that all of the Philadelphia meetings have been in the 'burbs. I write about access, do research on access...the availability of information and support, and the last meetings have been an hour out from the city. Is this inclusive, really, if I have to give up two hours just driving each time?  

But I'm going- I know I need to go. Need to have someone tell me that this is only a moment and this will pass and at some point I will stop feeling like something in me is broken.

13

Maniac

I am writing like a maniac.  It is frustrating and crazed and exciting and fun. But alas, the end is in sight! 

Kind of.

5 weeks post surgery

5 weeks post surgery I feel really good.  I'm exercising again-- just the elliptical at half mast-- for a half hour per day-- but I feel good. I have been going out here an there, mostly for brief stretches, and my work schedule has been "normal" for awhile now.  Only downside is driving, which I hate. The bumpy road irritates my chest a bit, as does sleeping on my stomach.  I can still "feel" my chest...when I'm pumping the soap dispenser, when I'm sweeping up outside, when I plug in my iPhone charger.  It's weird- the awareness.


This week the hypersensitivity has calmed down a lot. It was A BITCH those first few weeks: imagine how your chest hurts sometimes when it's cold...then multiply that by 100.  


Yeah.

With the restrictions off, I can lift my little dog, and shopping bags, and carry all of my shit to campus and back, which today included a laptop, 4 books on qualitative methods, lunch, a coffee thermos, and the three notebooks I rarely travel without. I'm sleeping my typical 7.5, and though I'm still a tad out of it, I push through so as to have good night time sleep.

I'm still tired but I am beginning to suspect that wired eventually = tired.  This is the first time I've been a regular coffee drinker, so I suspect caffeine is the culprit.  

I wore this getup to a fancy/schmancy restaurant with five other buds.  It was also the first time I've had booze since the surgery, and wow, I will not be doing that again.  My brain turned off for two days-- and I had not had pain meds for days prior.  One drink and the next day was spent watching Saving Grace and sucking down water with lime.

I suppose it's all a learning process.  Here's to healing.

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part Four

Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!

Happy Valentine's Day!

I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering the expander surgery.  For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This is the fourth of five summary posts.  The other posts are here, here, and here.

The surgery.  When signing in, I requested a private room. In the pre- op room, an AMAZING nurse started my IV without my really noticing at all! The plastic surgeon came to draw on me and told me that she could make it so that my scars would be on the bottom of my breasts-- so essentially invisible. My mom had flown up prior to the surgery, and she and my husband were allowed to stay with me until I was wheeled off into the OR.  I remember going in and being very cold, noticing that my previous- day's pedicure had smeared noticeably (shit!), and chatting a bit with the nurse anesthesist. And then I woke up.

Look, mom! No breasts!

I was attached to a pain pump that I was instructed to push if I felt the slightest amount of pain.  Here's the truth: I was sore in my throat and chest-- as if I'd done a crazy workout and huffed and puffed the whole time-- but I was never quite in pain, and never have been. There was, however, the very real discomfort of the Jackson- Pratt Drains, of which I had two, one on each side.  My left drain gave me the only true pain I had throughout the entire process, and that was because a suture had been left too long and stuck me like a tack when putting my arms down. That got VERY tender and later made showering and milking the drains painful.

geometric prints= hidden booblessness?

Though I hadn't eaten in over a day, I kept having to pee from the saline drip. Like...20 times (I am not exaggerating).  I was annoyed by the IV, and nervous about pulling it out during bathroom trips.

The docs and residents came to check on me often, and the two days I was there were a blur of sleeping, fashion magazines, and...I can't remember. My mother was there every moment, and helped with getting my clothes on, helping me out of bed the first couple of times, helping me with whore's baths during the hospital stay, and taking down info for my care once I got home.  My husband picked up my scripts (percoset, a stool softener, and valium to relax the muscle) and drove us home.

*This summary is the fourth in a series of five posts on the subject.  For others, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

Having had my fill- (Conundrum)

I had my second fill yesterday but opted not to take pain meds, as I am on a writing deadline and require my brain.

Short version: I sort of hurt.

It means another round of paid housekeeping and ordering groceries, even though after today my lifting restriction is off (yay!) and as of last week I was told I could exercise again (yay?).

I am now doing quite the opposite of the type of relaxation I was in earlier weeks: instead of treating myself gently, I worry now that I'm getting too "soft." For instance, I got the go-ahead to exercise last week, but didn't feel *quite* up to it. I am trying to figure out if that's excuse- making 13 or the all- encompassing "listening to my body" 13.

Also, I'm losing weight.  If you're a new reader (thank you, btw!) you may not know that I'm a pretty avid exerciser but also a pretty avid (healthy, mindful, mostly) eater.  I'd say for most of this year the two canceled each other out for me.  That's cool and all, except my BMI is still about a dime higher than docs are telling me it should be.

{newfound tummy, once hidden my F-cups. Gym, anyone?}

And I refuse, refuse, refuse to go hungry. Some call hunger during weight loss discipline, but for me it's equaled a brief affair with some genuine disordered eating behaviors. So...I tread lightly.

I'm still quite afraid of revision surgeries, tiring myself out too much to write, or jiggling something out of place. Gah! I want to strap on my running shoes and demand myself to "man up." 

We'll see.

xo

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part Three

Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!


I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering expander surgery.  For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This is the third of five summary posts.  The first and second posts are here and here. 

{Color blocking= distraction from booblessness?
@ three weeks post-op}

Getting closer: I had a moment for about a month where I decided that I wouldn't think about my breasts, my family history, or the surgery. And then I got my head out of my ass and scheduled it. About two weeks out from my surgery, I started to get VERY NERVOUS.  Not "I- shouldn't- do- this" nervous, but "what- if- I- hurt"/ "who's- going- to- cook- and- clean- and- walk- my- doggie"/"will- I- get- my- dissertation- done- this- semester"/"will- my- husband- and- my- mom- clash- during- her- long- stay" nervous. So I got hypnosis, basically so I could stay on top of pain and manage the anxious feelings creeping up. To prepare, I also bought stuff. (I used everything but the sippy cup- didn't need it.)

{side view- shit, I have a tummy now. Or, rather,

I have no boobs to convince me otherwise.}

I also had my pre-op appointment, during which my blood pressure was sky high.  The surgical oncologist recommended that I return to my primary care physician to see about blood pressure medication to regulate it before the surgery.  Given that I eat very few processed foods and was at that point exercising 3-4 hours per week for nearly a year, I panicked. I made the appointment for the following week.  

{I look tired. It is the biggest side effect of the surgery. More on that later, gator.}

In the meantime, I went to a Weight Watchers meeting thinking that I could use the structure to lose the final pounds more quickly. But when I went to my primary care physician, she applauded my weight loss for the year and noted that the pre-op reading was the only one that had been that high. No meds necessary, and she encouraged me to "keep doing what I was doing," which was basically eating mostly whole foods and amping up my exercise.  

*This summary is the third in a series of five posts on the subject.  For others, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

13

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part Two

Click Here to Win a Dress from Shabby Apple!


I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering this surgery.  For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This is the second of five summary posts.  The first post is here. 

In the meantime: For women considered at high- risk for breast cancer docs recommend multiple yearly screenings early and often.  There is also the option to take a drug called tamoxifen, but only if I was done or not interested in having children; one other side effect, along with MANY others, is a noted increase in the type of cancer my mother was recovering from. The final option was the risk- reducing surgery. My ongoing recommendations: get the screenings, 13. Get thee to an appropriate BMI.  Exercise at least 4 hours per week.

{Me last week two days following my first fill. Flat, but happy.}

Selecting doctors: I wanted to like mine, and I wanted to stay at my university hospital, ranked one of the best in the U.S.  I wanted the best because this was the hardest medical decision I've ever had to make, and because I'd never even had anesthesia before (except for getting  my wisdom teeth out -- go figure). I asked around on blogs and forums, and "interviewed" one doc whose manner was, I thought, crass and breezy.

Hospital policy wouldn't initially allow me to see his counterpart (a fact which was not explained to me beforehand--I'd actually wanted to see his counterpart in the first place, but she didn't have openings for weeks), so I straight up lied about having a religious reason for preferring a female doc. The next two docs had been described to me both from online friends and at a cancer conference as "the dream team," and I liked and appreciated their manner work (yep, I read their research-- it's what I do all day anyway...why not for my health?).

*This summary is the second in a series of five posts on the subject.  For others, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

13

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy Recovery: One Month Out, Part One

Happy Superbreast Sunday!  Don't forget to click here to win a dress from Shabby Apple!

I thought I'd do a monthly summary for anyone reading who might be considering the expander surgery.  For those not interested in this, here's a pass: TL:DNR. This will be broken up into five posts.

I decided to blog about the process because though there are lots of amazing blogs on the subject out there, I saw few from women of color and none from women identifying as African American.  Why did this matter? Well, for one, our scarring is different, which matters to me as a young woman; second, our sociohistorical contexts with institutions and our health potentially add an additional layer of conflict; third, I had just left my immediate  family's fourth cancer ward; and fourth-- though black women are less likely to be diagnosed with breast cancer, we have higher rates of death from it. Bottom line: there is something we're not doing, and it was my goal to interrupt that something in the name of my own health...then talk about it. A lot.

{I started as an F cup.}

Here goes:

Why I did it: Two years ago, I took a semester off to help my mom through surgeries for a female cancer. During a routine physical, my primary care physician asked of there were other cancers in my family-- and there are many.  She referred me to a genetic counselor who had me complete a family tree. Even though I was only able to partially complete it initially, the information I discovered in later months summed up to this: both grandmothers, my sister, and my father had breast or prostate cancers, along with several paternal aunts and uncles. I did not have one of the recognized genes for breast cancer; however, I am still considered high- risk. My decision was based solely on my family's history, the fact that I always felt something during self- breast exams (typical for someone with large fibrocystic breasts) and a gut feeling I've had all of my life.

*This summary is the first in a series of five posts on the subject.  For other non- summary posts, use the search function to search "prophylactic bilateral mastectomy."*

13

Weight Loss Wednesday: Betcha Thought I Forgot

Hey!

I am getting better and better every day. Still super tired.  I am behind in my fellowship work but trying not to worry about it. I got one of those "nice to hear from you!" responses from someone I work with.  I'm sorry, pal. I just had my tits cut off and I'm murdering my dissertation. Forgive me.

{following my first fill}

Good news: on Monday at after my fill, I got the ok to exercise.  Still no lifting, but my runner's legs are itching.

Not really.

But I do believe that exercise is good stress relief and will help me get stronger.  I dunno, though. Even car rides make me so aware...of myself.

Anyhow, not exercising makes it easy to lose weight: I was Captain Calorie Restricter for some time.  But I like exercising. So to be healthier, I have to eat more.  I'm looking for the balance-- or, rather, the unbalance-- that will allow me to lose some weight without feeling as if I'll keel over. 

So this WLW= trying to exercise without feeling worse or impeding my healing.

Letcha know how it goes.

xoxo,
13

Three Weeks Post- Op: Sharing my Fill-ings

Well.

 I'm tired. But I'm able to do some work along with looooong stretches of rest.  In fact, the first chapter of the big diss is in, with the second following next week. I am in a state of disbelief about both it and the surgery...I can't believe both are almost done.  Or rather, approaching done-ness.

I went for my first fill today.  It was mostly painless and now I have a little bit of projection.  Doc says I can go every week if I want; she'll do 60 ccs each time.  Below is the process: basically over time the doc sticks you with a syringe full of saline. Since my implant will be placed behind my muscle, it has to stretch over a period of some months. I am still so happy with the levels of professionalism and expertise. It's hard to get naked in front of someone over and over.  I always wonder: can they see how happy I am to not have the breasts anymore? To have this risk...almost gone?  It is all I can do not to hug the docs.

I am missing mom and feeling overwhelmed. I look normal from the outside but I'm so tired. I love the work of writing and reading but at the end of the sessions I feel as if I've run three miles.  I feel an incredible sense of urgency about finishing-- it's been 4 and a half years now and I'd like to earn a salary again: save for retirement, put a new roof over our front porch. Right now our "extra" will be going toward a housekeeper since I am basically housebound but have this stupid dust allergy.  I am also forbidden from lifting anything heavier than 5 pounds. This includes my little doggie, my laptop, and the damn vacuum cleaner.  So I can't clean my house, take the laptop to a coffee shop, or work from campus unless I'm willing to crash at one of the labs, which I dislike immensely (too distracting for writing).

If nothing else, I have always prided myself in being physically strong (even while I was fat), but these days...I do not feel strong at all.  I feel tired and dopey and glazed.

The good news is that I've been given the ok to exercise again! More on that later...

13

"Sunburn" and Hope

My biggest issue with this surgery-- other than the expected fatigue-- has been a sunburn-like feeling across my chest. It feels like an odd reaction to hot and cold, or- well- like a sunburn. I have only experienced sunburn once (Thanks, Tobago) so it took me a while to even get to a "eureka!" moment.

A poke around on the FORCE website and Google suggested that pure aloe vera gel might help.  I happen to have some, as I use it in my hair in the summer.

Here's to hoping.

xoxo,
13

Drains/Pains: 16 Days Post- Op

So! Tuesday I got my drains out.  I felt like a new woman-- for about 3 hours. Then the achiness set in.

No question about it-- I feel different.  And yep, there surely is more to feel. I got some exercises to do twice a day and WOW- they really help.  I'm going to stretch the limits of my health insurance (pun intended!) in hopes that they'll pay for physical therapy too.

{There's me...is this what an A cup looks like?}

At the plastic surgeon's office yesterday I asked the nurse question after question, and one that got resolved was the shooting pains I've been getting.  Evidently these are just my nerves regenerating, which means I'll likely retain some feeling across my chest area.  So, a good thing!

{I sort of love this odd little Anthro sweater.}

A new hearing date (May 9!). A dissertation to write. A body to heal.

Last night I sent graduation information to my family, so guess what...it's on like neckbones.

xoxo,
13

Yessssssssssssss!

My drains are out!

I worked for five hours today! I did not collapse! I had a celebratory brunch with my mom!

And there was also this as a "good going, kid" from the moms:

Badgley Miscka Cherise Tote

Oh, sessy sessy, now.  I think the clean lines and bold hardware are just dreamy. (And now I'm really off to dreamland because wow, wow, wow, I am so fucking tired and I had drains riiiiiiiiiippppped out of my bod today and forgot painkillers while at the library doing all of the above.

That is all.

!

xoxo,
13

2 weeks Post- Op: Damn Drains!

I've been having some serious irritation at the suture that connects my drains to my body, and this weekend (drumroll, please) finally got the go- ahead to have them removed.

(My plastic surgeon required that 2 days pass with 30 ml or fewer fluid collected. I am quite sure that sentence does not make sense, but I'm dumb right now.) 

It will be a relief to be rid of these things tomorrow.

This isn't me (no- really?)-- I'm too tired to photograph myself, sorry-- but here's what they look like:

cred

Yes. Those are coming out of you.

And here's mine with a drain belt I purchased online:

surgical bra and drain belt

You can see the gauze we've placed there to keep the velcro from irritating my skin.  You'd be surprised what can irritate your skin after a surgery: velcro, the air, drinking something cold...

I had a crappy day today. Basically my chest area feels very sensitive to cold-- to the point where it's almost painful. I've also been having some odd, brief shooting pains all day, and I did not sleep well last night. 

I broke down and took a percoset, slept,  and have now had the dummy- brain + slow body all day today. Mom and I went to the grocery store tonight, and you'd have thought I'd run ten miles or something. I did manage to write a couple of pages this morning beforehand, however.

Always a journey.

13

First Snow (Okay. Really the Second. But Freak Snow in October Doesn't Count.)

I am especially happy to be alive today.

I've been complainy recently, but today I have realized something: all of this discomfort is my body healing.  See, I'd figured that since I wasn't really having pain that I was A-OK. Not true, silly billy.  You are not "recovered" just because you're not in pain.

{about 5am}

And today there was snow, and there was my mother who brought me this sugar- free Tang-like drink that I absolutely love at just the moment when I was like "Shit, I'm thirsty, but don't feel like walking down two flights to get it." And there was my bad little dog who seemed to sense that I had been feeling grumpy and pawed at the door to come sit with me. 

And there is still no pain. And there is still my mother, who is caring so sweetly for me. And there is still my beautiful family who sends their good vibes all the way from Tennessee, and my dear friend from undergrad whose children make me laugh with their interruptions while we talked on the phone today.

And there is season 2 of The Good Wife, which I will watch and not think for one iota of one moment that I should be reading an article on Critical Race Theory instead.

xoxo,

13