My story: Plastic Surgery (Part III)

January 26, 2011 at 2:10 pm 1 comment

Read part 1 of this story.
Read part 2 of this story.

Eight years ago, I went under the knife.  And I got something off my chest.

Three pounds of something, to be exact.  That’s how much they took off: three pounds of pure fat and tissue.  During my consultation with the doctor, we had decided on a size range that would be appropriate for me and my body type.  Obviously, I wanted to take off enough to make a difference.  But – since I’m not a dainty flower – going too small wouldn’t match with my frame and body type.  Thus we landed on the three pounds number.

I had the reduction done at a surgical center as an outpatient.  An hour or so before I was scheduled, I checked into the center, where I was prepped.  The doctor used a marker to draw directions, creating a surgical roadmap on my chest.  I was given a sedative to calm and relax me, a precursor to the stronger anesthetic.

I don’t remember any of the procedure.  All I remember is fighting the oxygen mask just before the anesthetic completely knocked me out.  I’m somewhat claustrophobic, and I remember – even with the sedative in my system – feeling panic set in as they covered up my face with the oxygen mask.  Then – nothing.

I awoke in the recovery room, groggy and disoriented.  I was nauseous, most likely a result of the extra anesthetic they had given me to keep me from fighting the oxygen mask.  (That’s what the nurses told me later, anyway.)  As I became fully awake, the nurses brought me a slice of birthday cake, a sweet acknowledgement of my procedure being done on my birthday.

A couple of hours later, I got to go home.  For the next few days, I mainly dozed (GREAT medication!) and let my parents be my nurses.  After a few days, I was back up to being up and around; after a couple of weeks, I was back at work and back in life.

In the months following the surgery, I reveled in my newfound shape.  Exercising was easier.  My clothes fit better.  For the first time ever, I could buy bras that were more pretty than functional.  One unexpected result, though, was my new motivation to lose weight.  The three pounds I’d lost immediately during the procedure were followed by nearly 30 more.

I started this series about my breast reduction on somewhat of a whim.  I mean, who really wants to announce to the world that they’ve had their boobs done?  A couple of things spurred this topic, however.  The first, obviously, was my conversation with my friend.   The second was a recent blog post by my friend, Amy, who talked about living her life out loud.  By doing this, she said, she “let go of my fear and put myself out there for everyone to see.”   Isn’t that what we should all be doing?  Living our lives without fear, without regret, and without apology for who we are, what we believe, and what we’ve done.

The feedback from my story has been unexpected.  Several of my readers have expressed their interest in having their own reductions.  One of my readers even emailed me after my first post, telling me that she has her reduction scheduled in a month and asking if I could give her any advice.  Maybe that’s why I had to share my story: to help someone else.

I don’t plan on any future cosmetic surgeries, although I will admit to a moment of consideration every time I pass the billboard advertising “Smart Lipo” at Healing Waters when I’m on Webb Road.  (I mean, sure, diet and exercise are great, but can’t a girl dream about a flatter stomach with none of the work??)

But as I said in my first post, you never know what the future might bring.  I’m just glad it’s available to me if I need it.


Entry filed under: Life in general. Tags: , .

My Story: Plastic Surgery (Part II) A place to lay your head

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