For SAGGY!  When a plastic surgeon tells you your breasts are quite pendulous, do not think for a moment that he is speaking of small objects suspended by sinewy strings- he means your boobs need a boost.  Now, in the man’s defense, he speaks the truth.  Gravity dictates that after 40 years, DD breasts, in fact all size breasts, head south for the winter and ultimately, like all old things, just move to Florida and call it a day.  Although I think mine have migrated all the way to South America.  But, out with the old and in with the new I say, and today Dr. Tseng and I decided just what the new will look like.

So today was my final pre-op appointment with the plastic surgeon and as we had moved on from the FLAP procedure (see 2 posts ago if you don’t know what I’m referring to) I had to decide whether to have ‘expanders’ put in as initial reconstruction, or to go straight to the implant which meant picking a size and living with it.  In either case I am most likely going to have to have at least two surgeries to get them right.  With expanders, they essentially put in a pouch filled with saline, that will begin at about 50% capacity.  Then, after three weeks of recovery post surgery, you go in weekly to have more saline injected into the pouch until they are exactly the size you want.  Then they do a follow up surgery where the expanders are replaced with an implant the same size you’ve chosen.  It’s like one of those choose your own adventure stories with boobs!

Now, most of you know that I was not thrilled about having to forgo the FLAP procedure but here’s what is ideal about this scenario for me.  My weight is currently going down because I finally bit the bullet and got off sugar and flour again.  So with that change, I am more apt to lean toward a smaller breast size, but my plastic surgeon is still set on a C.  So, this is a perfect way for us to find a happy medium 10 cc’s at a time.  Yes, I know, I have mastered the art of finding the silver lining.  I told my cousins that at this point I can find a silver lining on a pile of shit.  Who would have thought that facing down something this big would make me more optimistic- or maybe I’m just completely losing it.  Well, as long as I’m not depressed, who cares?

So, I signed my informed consent, I finalized the procedure decision with the surgeon and he walked me through the whole thing once more.  First, the breast surgeon will remove my BRCA breasts as they are unaffectionately referred to, then my plastic surgeon will place in the expanders and do the first step of reconstruction so I will wake up with roughly a B cup.  Then my Gynecologic oncology surgeon will remove my uterus, fallopian tubes and ovaries as well as taking numerous samples to verify that the BRCA gene hasn’t already worked it’s magic in that general area.  They will in fact biopsy breast tissue as well to check for the same thing.  If they find something, as my ex-husband always said, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.

So we are now at T minus two weeks.  (can someone please explain to me what T minus means?) I have managed to fill every single day leading up to the surgery- some days with pre op appointments and tests, and some, like last Saturday, with play going and picnicking with my favorite pal.  This weekend we are off to a gorgeous beach house that my sister rented so she’d have something great to do post treatment.  I am a lucky beneficiary of that reward.

One last thing that happened in the waiting room for a scheduled mammogram today.  A very nice woman struck up a conversation with me, mentioned she had had breast cancer and was having a recheck, and asked if mine was routine, etc. because I’m so young.  I explained that I was actually having this test as part of completing the Estriol trial for MS but proceeded to tell her about the BRCA genes and upcoming surgery.  She said to me, “I’m so glad when I meet people like you because it makes it impossible for me to feel sorry for myself.”  Now, of course the subtext there is “thank god I’m not as fucked as you are” but with that, was such a genuine gratitude that I had told her about my situation and it made her load feel lighter.  And for me, it’s no skin off my back to give her this boost, so I’m happy to offer up my story if it helps someone else see their own story with clearer eyes.   Perspective should never be underestimated- and mine is roaring like a lioness ready for battle.  Out with the pendulous and in with the perky!