Hello Perky!

It has been three weeks since I had the breast reduction, and of all the words that I can think of "perky" sums it up!

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning. Chris and I went to Scarborough General Hospital on May 7 at 7:00am. I registered at the hospital and was prepaid (medical history, IV line, etc.) for Dr. Sliwin. At 8:30 I was wheeled in the the surgery room and after being drawn upon I was sedated and ..... well that is all I remember about that.

I woke up in a considerable amount of pain. On a scale of 1 - 10, I was at a 9. Morphine was on order and after being given my first injection I was still in a lot of pain. Three times the nurse gave me morphine and three times I told her that Morphine really doesn't work for me. She went and got Dr. Sliwin for a consultation but, unfortunately, he did not want to give me any other drugs. Finally, after I maxed out on the amount of Morphine I could take, I was given a bit of Demerol. Let me back track a bit. Morphine, Tylenol 3, and low doses of Demerol do nothing for me. Oxycodone, on the other hand, does wonders. However, oxycodone is highly addictive and is easily abused. Dr. Sliwin didn't want to give me oxycodone for good reason but he missed the most important point. My addiction is to food, not drugs.

Anyway, it took a few more hours until I was coherent enough to walk around and use the facilities and then I was off home. My oh my, is my bed comfy! Really, that is all I did for the next few days; slept (on my back) and took pain medication. Three days later I was taking about half of the pain medication I was prescribed and was feeling good. Tender, but good. Now I must point out here, that I was not allowed to shower. I just want you to know that after the breast reduction surgery you cannot get the incisions wet. Sponge bath, yes. Shower or bath, no. No water for a least one week.

On May 13 I saw Dr. Sliwin again. He changed the bandages, said I looked fabulous, could now take a shower and sent me on my merry way. I showered as soon as I got home. And for the first time I took a really good look at my new boobs. I must confess that I was taken aback by the amount, and colour of the bruising. Both breasts are bruised a muddy blue and there was a huge, black bruise under each arm. However, once the shock of the bruising wore off I noticed that they are perky! Small, for me, a C cup. Firm; much harder than I am use to; hard like a muscle, not soft and loose. The nipples are much smaller and, in my opinion, cute. I still seem have have a lot of sensation and am happy about this, though I was prepared for the possible loss of sensation. The incisions are big. Don't think that a surgeon's knife is fine. It is not. The scars are there and will always be there. To what degree, is really up to how my body heals. But I just thought that you should know. They are almond shaped. This is the hardest thing for me to get use to. They don't sag when my bra is off. They just kind of sit there, on the top of my chest, almond shaped and perky.

That week, still found me tender and bruised but in good spirits. I had to continue wearing a sports bra 24/7 and putting Poloysporin on the incisions three times a day. I rested, slept, healed and became bored with the television. The following Tuesday I visited Dr. Sliwin again because I thought I was developing an infection. Rather, as Dr. Sliwin explained, my body was just "pushing out" the stitches. He removed the offending stitches and told me to come back in two weeks.

Monday, May 26 I went back to work. Yes, I was sore. Yes, I was tired. Yes, I took a painkiller and slept for a few hours after I came home from work. But all in all, I am doing well. Work is becoming easier but I am still tender and and bruised. I can't really pick up heavy things or stretch to high without hurting myself. I am trying to be careful, but I am a bit impatient. Happy too! This was a good decision.

I just want to add one last note to this. I would have not been able to do any of this if it hadn't been for the support of family and friends. Most especially, my husband Chris. He has been with me every step of the way. He puts up with my helplessness, frustrations, anger, anxiety, hopes, aspirations, dreams, humour, excessive energy, and impatience. A good man is hard to find. I found one. I got lucky.

Do I have to eat?

I have become very frustrated with the way my pouch is responding to food. Let me see if I can clarify that.

Some days, eating my many small meals, is easy. My ability to measure out portions sizes is great, I don't experience panic attacks about not having enough food, the food goes down well, and I don't experience any pain. Today was not one of those days.

I woke up early in hopes of getting a jump on the day and toddled on downstairs for breakfast. For the past 4 days breakfast has been 2 oz of a broccoli and cheese frittata that I had made. Today was no different. I ate my 2 oz of frittata slowly and chewed it well. Then about 1/2 hour later, I started to drink my water and that is when the problem began. Once the water hit the pouch, I experienced terrible pain across my entire diaphragm and upper chest. I became queasy, really hot and weak. These are all symptoms that I had overfilled my pouch, but I had not done anything that I hadn't done for the past 3 days. The nausea got so bad that I actually believed that I was going to vomit and was wanting the relief that vomiting can bring. I didn't, but the pain across my diaphragm lasted for about another 1/2 hour.

Once the nausea subsided, I still had to drink my water. And, though I didn't feel nauseous, every sip hurt like hell.

Skipping to lunch, I decided to have a 1/2 cup of pureed soup. Soups have always gone down really easy and I have never experienced pain when eating pureed soup. Not today. There were no feelings of nausea, but as the soup moved into my pouch; my chest felt like it was being squeezed tighter and tighter. My diaphragm began to tense up and I developed the hiccups. (Have I said hiccups hurt?) The pain was so bad; it was actually difficult to breath.

"Alright", I said to myself, "let's shake this off with a walk". And really, I did want to go for a walk, but I guess that I was weak from not eating enough food and as the walk progressed my legs began to burn and my left knee (which has arthritis) began to ache. By the time I got home, my whole body felt like it had been hit by a bus and I was overheated to boot.

I drew a bath, sprinkled in some Epsom Salts and soaked for about an hour, cooling off and re-hydrating myself.

As you can guess, it was then time for dinner. Well the good news is that it went down well. I think my diaphragm and chest muscles relaxed in the tub. After dinner, I took a short nap, and I am actually, just now, beginning to feel like myself.

I am just really frustrated with the way my pouch sometimes responds to food. Eating has always been a pleasurable experience for me and now, it just seems like work. I mean, I know that that is part of what the surgery was suppose to do; shift the random desires of eating to eating only when needed. But this is ridiculous. I have begun to feel like it would be easier just not to eat at all and that in itself is just as dangerous as overeating. The scary part is that I know that I could do it. I mean, I never get hungry so why do I have to eat?

I know, I know. This is dangerous thinking. And I know that I will most likely not follow this line of thinking, but the point is - I am thinking it. This leads me to wondering about the underpinnings of what is happening. How can my thinking switch so easily from overeating and binging to not wanting to eat at all? Is it a result of the surgery and the few painful experiences I have had? Or is it that not eating is the flip side of overeating? Are my thoughts of not eating the same as an anorexic who denies themselves food?

I'm not sure what is going on in my head right now. I guess that this too, is part of the adventure. When I know, I will tell you.