New Girls - the series finale!

I'm all done, folks! The new "girls" are in and secure in all their gummi bear splendor, I'm home from the hospital, and I'm feeling pretty darn close to normal. WOO-HOO!

Even up to the moment we arrived at the hospital, I wasn't in the mind frame that I was having surgery. It seemed to me just an item to cross off the to-do list. Having packed for the hospital four times before, I didn't even put out everything I would need carefully the night before like I had done the other times. I just put on my usual "goin' for surgery" outfit (comfy jersey pants, camisole, zip-up green hoodie, and pink and white striped fuzzy socks), since it had served me so well before, and off we went. Once in the pre-surgery area, I knew some of the folks and we waved and greeted each other. The nurse who was helping me get ready laughed at all my jokes, which is always nice. For example, they have to ask what I'm having done today, and I said, "It's a bilateral... revision... swap thing... I'm getting a new rack. Is that good enough?" and she actually doubled over laughing, then told me the actual name of the procedure, which I still couldn't tell you. Or when she noticed there was a hole in my gown right over my right "foob," she said she could get me a new gown, and I said, "Nah, that boob won't be mine for much longer, so I don't care who sees it." She liked that one, too.

Everything seemed to move fairly swiftly, and Michael was with me most of the time. The usual parade of doctors and nurses came through to ask me questions. When the two plastic surgery residents came in, one of them said, "Hey, Trouble," and grinned at me, which pretty much made my morning. Both of those residents have been great. This was the first surgery where I didn't see Dr. Skinner before, which was sad, though I was told that she did pop in to say hello afterward. Of this I have no recollection, so I must have been pretty drowsy still.

Soon enough I was brought into the OR (a different one from before), where of course I continued to joke with the doctors and nurses until I fell asleep. And then I woke up, and shortly thereafter I was moved back to the post-surgical area and Michael came in and sat with me. There was a group of folks from church who gathered to pray for me again in the lobby (how I love them!), and Michael popped in to say hello, but didn't want to leave the waiting room again in case the doctor called for him. He said Dr. Langstein had reported that everything went very smoothly, that I did great, and they are pleased with the result. Michael texted family and friends to let them know. I sat in the post-surgery area for a while, until I stopped falling asleep in the middle of sentences. I got up to go to the bathroom and was amazed how easy it was to stand and walk, compared to the two mastectomies! The nurse came with me, but I hardly needed it. I felt no nausea, no pain, just a little light-headedness from the pain meds. When I said I was ready to go, I went soon thereafter. We left at 1-something, and I said to Michael, "Boy, we got out early. I could really get a few hours in at the office." He did NOT think that was a funny joke.

Once home, I dozed on and off, and let Michael wait on me. I slept well, and even was able to sleep on my side! It took weeks before I could do that after mastectomy. The next day was also pretty chill - mostly watched TV, did a tiny bit of work, and ate a lot of jelly beans.

Last night I got the nerve to take a look at the result. For the first time, I let Michael be there at the same time that I took a full look, and I'm glad I did because as soon as I peeled my tank top down he said, "It looks great! The best boobs money can buy!" And he's right. New girls look much more natural than the old girls. They are softer, as promised (and hence more comfortable), and have a more graceful line. Even with all the permanent marker on them from the surgeon, they looked pretty darn good!

Today I was able to shower and wash off all the hospital gunk, and then take another long look at the New Me. Looking at the new girls separately, they look great, really. Aside from the gigantic glued scar across the front of each of them, you wouldn't know the difference. When I glanced up and took in the new girls along with my face, I was suddenly overwhelmed with everything that this body has been through in the past 22 months. I never thought I would see those mastectomy scars on my young, healthy body. I figured breast cancer was sometime in my future, but thought I might be in my 40s or 50s before that happened. But now here it was: my face on a body with two well done but man-made breasts with huge scars across the front. This is it.

And I'm remarkably okay with that.