This post contains an accounting of my chest expansion and subsequent issues, so if you work with me and would rather be thinking about my beautiful green eyes as opposed to the activity below my chin when we next meet, please feel free to pass by this post. If you are brave or curious enough to continue, congratulations and here goes.
At surgery, if there is a chance that one might need radiation, the final silicone implants are not used, but expanders are put in as placeholders. These expanders include a port and balloon type containers that are filled with saline solution. The port allows for the injection of extra fluid, thus expanding the site in preparation for the final implants. The side that is to be radiated requires extra liquid as the skin shrinks during the procedure. Well, my plastic surgeon seems to believe that all good things come in large handfuls. Having already watched 34B/C disappear in the rear view mirror, at my last appointment, he gave me extra, extra on the left side as that is where I am to receive radiation. I felt so large and lopsided that I was worried that if I walked too fast around a corner, I might topple over and need help getting upright again. I could take a second job as a personal flotation device for a few small children needing help in the pool but due to rudder imbalance, we’d just keep flapping around in circles. Well, you get the picture and luckily for all concerned, there are none included with this post.
So I go to my first radiation planning session and everyone who sees my chest goes ‘oh my’. We go through most of the planning when the decision comes down from above that we are going to have to rebook as my girls, particularly Dolly on the left, are now just too damn large and the laser beam keeps getting cut off at the pass, so to speak. I get sent back to plastic surgery, having to see someone different as my regular Dr is, luckily, at a conference. ‘Oh my’ says the nurse when she checks things out. ‘Oh my’ says the plastic surgeon when he gets a look, followed by ‘are you going for va va voom?’. Categorically NOT. I think they look fine on Ms. Parton, but that’s where they can stay. Luckily, what can be created can be rent asunder and he was able to deflate, giving me back some balance and dignity.
I had my follow-up radiation planning session today and all went well. I start on December 1st and will finish in early to middle January. I wish for many reasons, including health care costs, that it could all have been finished this year but it’s the gift that just keeps on giving. The hair continues to sprout but patchy, not uniformly and today I felt the beginning of little hairy prickles on my legs. The eye brows and eye lashes have stayed the course for the most part and hopefully they are now out of danger.
So that’s the excitement to date!
Love to all,
Amanda
Your posts are a book or perhaps a movie in the making. A NYT best seller or a box office hit. Seriously you are so funny and your images, even without pics, make me want to laugh, make me want to cry, make me want to kill this horrific disease for your sake and all others who suffer! Amanda thanks for this gift…of your thoughts and for sharing your innermost thoughts with us. Xo
As I don’t work with anymore, I dove head first into your blog and was very glad. I thought this was hilarious and while I feel for the pain and frustration that probably went hand in hand with this story, I just couldn’t keep myself from chuckling out loud. Glad your girls are more “appropriate” and that you would need a life preserver and could get one on. Keep on smiling and laughing, it’s the best medicine.
What Pam said, above. You need to turn this ordeal into a book when all is done.
Keep that sense of humor, Amanda. Glad you’re no longer lopsided: see you soon! xo