So my surgery was a week ago Thursday.
The Reduction Mammoplasty.
The Reverse Boob Job.
My great, courageous (so a couple people have told me it was) act of “Getting Proportional”. (Kudos to a dear friend for that reference.)
Before I go any further and really start rambling, here are the obligatory Before and After Images. (Unfortunately I didn’t have the presence of mind to take a true “Before” picture in something I am willing to share here on Ye Olde Worlde Wide Webe. I mean, I like you and all, but no you don’t get to see pictures of me in my bra. Or less. So this is what you get.)
Yeah. Tell me about it.
I’m still in the healing phase, and healing nicely.
This is not only my opinion but my surgeon’s opinion at my post-op visit. There hasn’t been any horridly excruciating pain. Of course the first couple days when there might have been I was doped up on Demerol and probably wouldn’t have felt it if someone had come in and lopped off one of my other appendages. I mostly feel, and have mostly only felt, really bruised.
So far the worst parts have been: A) Having to sleep on my back; and B) The itching where the stitches are healing. Fortunately both these issues are resolved by the same solution: Benadryl! Oh sweet little hot pink elixirs of relief and rest!
The weirdest part was the first week when – for the first time in my life at forty-seven – I had to line my bra with maxi-pads (to protect the incisions and absorb any ‘drainage’). I actually found that quite hilarious on Friday morning when my mom and my BFF helped me change from the padding I’d left the surgery center with to the first set of maxi-pads. I am reasonably certain the Demerol weighed in on the hilarity factor of that experience.
The waterproof surgical tape he put back over the stitched up incisions (which will dissolve rather than having to be removed) comes off a week from Monday. Christmas Eve morning. (The jokes on that one really do write themselves. I’ll not insult your intelligence or sense of humor by overstating the obvious . . . )
In the couple weeks leading to the “Procedjah” people kept asking me “Aren’t you nervous?!” and I would pause, do one of those mental ‘system checks’, and answer (in all honesty) “No. I’m really not.” By the day before the Procedjah my answer had become “At this point I feel like I’m ten months pregnant and I’m just ready to have this baby!” (Having gone 1/3 of the way to ten months pregnant twenty-four years ago, that’s an analogy I was quite comfortable making.) During the pre-op prep they checked my blood pressure. 111/74 (before they had given me any ‘calming agents’ via IV). Seriously. So it would appear that “nervous” was the last thing I was. Which I think was pretty cool!
Friday morning I woke up and could already feel a difference in my shoulders. The constant muscle tension and ‘pull’ I was used to was just GONE! Saturday morning once I was showered and wearing something other than pajamas my first thought was “I can’t wait to take these puppies out for a run!” Really. I called them “puppies” in my head.
All told the doctor removed three pounds of excess ’tissue’. Not fat. Actual whatever-it-is tissue that boobs are made of. The Mammogram Lady told me I had “dense tissue, not fat”. I’m not sure why I feel the need to clarify that, but I do. I digress . . .
So at this point I’m in something of a ‘holding pattern’ while the incisions heal, the bruising abates (there’s actually quite a rainbow of bruise coloration going on), and the stitches dissolve. I can’t run. I can’t lift anything heavier than a pound. I can’t run. Bending over causes discomfort. I can’t run. Yet. The doctor’s (somewhat flip) answer when I asked “How long after surgery until I can run?” was “Around 30 days. Basically it’s up to your pain levels.” I was expecting to hear something more along the lines of “Eight to twelve weeks” so this was a relief! A shocking relief, but a relief nonetheless.
Right now I’m still adjusting to what really is a whole new body.
Seriously there are days when I see myself in the mirror and am overwhelmed with not just the change, but the realization of the number of years I was identified – in my mind and other people’s – by one (okay technically two) disproportionate body part(s).
I can wear button front blouses without buying them two sizes bigger than necessary and still having to safety pin between the buttons.
I can wear pretty much any kind of v-neck t-shirt, sweater, or whatever else without worrying if the cleavage is going to be inappropriate or offensive.
I will – once the healing is complete and I no longer have to wear a bra 24/7 – be able to throw on a t-shirt or tank top sans brassiere and run to the store without worrying about scarring the psyches of small children or fast-tracking some unsuspecting male tween through puberty!
And. And! AND! I will be able to not only wear cute running bras (and cute little strappy running tops), but I will be able to wear those cute running bras without additional padding on the straps or moleskin applied under the band to prevent wearing holes in my hide!
If you want to get a sense of the “Before” and “After” effect of this surgery, pick up a three pound bag of potatoes, divide them into two mostly equal amounts, wear them around your neck. (I suggest a king size pillow case. You’ll have to sew the open end up somehow.) Pick your favorite shirt and wear it over them – have fun with those buttons on those blouses. Do this all day, every day for a week or two. Now multiply that by a good couple (or three) decades. Have fun with that math! I know I always did.
[I say “or three” parenthetically because I have it on good authority from one of my lifelong best friends that my ‘disproportionate proportions’ were there in high school even though it didn’t seem like it to me at the time. But I trust her judgment.]
Monday HCRP and I are going to get back in the gym.
He can do whatever he wants. I’ll be limited to a recumbent bike for cardio *rolls eyes* and lower body strength training. But it’s better than nothing at all. While we’re at my in-laws for Christmas I’m going to do Yoga as much as I can without pain. Once we get back home we’re changing gyms to one that has a pool and both an indoor and lighted outdoor track.
We both realize the absolute requirement of cross training – strength training in particular. The lighted outdoor track is a huge plus because of shorter winter days combined with the fact that our regular running trails close at sunset and our subdivision lacks streetlights (like at all) and consistent sidewalks.
So that’s where things are in my middle-aged, post-op, currently not running life.
In Running News I’m weighing the pros and cons of Jeff Galloway’s and Hal Higdon’s respective Marathon Training programs and starting to plan next year’s running goals.
No more of this just running willy nilly for the sake of it for me! I have G-O-A-L-S.
I’m notsomuch looking to break any particular times. Okay that’s kind of a lie.
I would like to get my 5K finish time down to 30 minutes. Less would be good too, but I’ll be good with a consistent 30 minute finish time. Which will of course make for a nice, clean, well-rounded 60 minute 10K finish time.
I’m good with a 3 hour half-marathon time. That allows for enjoying the venue as well as the run itself.
My first Full will be next year’s St. Jude Marathon in December. I could be ready to do one sooner, but I don’t intend to make marathons a regular ‘thing’ so I’m reserving them for St. Jude and Ronald McDonald House supporting events.
So that’s how things are and where I’ve been.
How’s things with you?