Still sobbing, I shook my head “no,” and managed to gasp out, “Tears of joy. Happy,” I said, smiling through the tears. Both doctors began to laugh and I remember the smiles on their faces. For me, it was just a few moments ago that I was being wheeled into the O.R. and, then seemingly seconds later, I was awakened. In reality, it was six hours later and the lengthy surgery was behind me.
Ahhh, what adventure had I embarked on this time? It was a dream come true; one of just three things on my bucket list finally crossed off. (I know I’m lame for only having three things on my bucket list… but give me a little time, I’ll get more on there. Besides, I don’t really count traveling to cool places a bucket list kind of thing. I’d have at least 50 more items on there if I counted all of the places/countries I wanted to visit before I die, but I’m excluding “Travel” on mine.)
What began as a 20-year dream turned into a bit more along the way. Since the age of 20, I have always been…ahhh…shall we say, quite endowed. It annoyed me. Some may love having copious amount of cleavage, but for me, it was a hassle. Way above even being considered “generous," the size of my chest made it difficult to buy good fitting clothes and often caused physical ailments too. After three children, weight gain and weight loss… they were less than pretty and not very comfortable; especially while running. Even with layering two, very expensive sports bras¸ and bandaging myself up when needed, I was often left with open, oozing sores covering my rib cage and shoulders after putting myself through the dreaded long run. When this happened, showering was excruciating as the hot water pelted and burned the chaffed, open wounds. I often cried in pain during my half-marathon training because of it. Even though I had dreamed of having a reduction for years, I always found reasons to keep putting it off. Plus, I had thought that I shouldn’t be that vain… that people who get plastic surgery must have some other body issues going on. That was an ignorant assumption and a cop-out on my part. Having turned 40, and learning a lot about myself, and life in general over the past five years, I’ve realized how ridiculous that kind of thinking is. In 2010, I had lost over 80+ pounds that I had gained after 3 kids, during a 6-year period. What was I waiting for? It was time. I decided that enough was enough. Life is short.
After consulting with my family doctor and a plastic surgeon, I was informed that I also had a hernia that had to be repaired. When discussing this, the doctor mentioned he could also repair my abdominal muscle, which had been cut three times during the c-sections I had. I asked about a tummy tuck, since he was going to be doing all kinds of work down there anyway, and he agreed that with all of the weight loss, I was definitely a good candidate. My skin was very stretched out and very damaged and he assured me he could remove it all, along with most of my stretch marks. I was in heaven! But, completely and utterly petrified.
I spoke to my sister-in-law, who is an O.R. nurse, and asked which surgeon she would recommend if she could pick anyone. Without telling her who I had already had a consult with, I was pleased when she uttered the name of the surgeon that I had just seen. I knew my sissy would take care of me. She requested the best of the best to be in the operating room during my surgery and that really helped put my mind at ease.
Deciding to have plastic surgery was not an easy decision. As I said, 20 years of want, and the last three years of careful consideration, research and discussions with my husband and friends, along with realizing my own needs and comfort led me to this decision. Not only were some of the procedures medically necessary, but I felt all would result in a happier, healthier, more balanced “me.”
This was a major surgery I underwent; four procedures, six hours and general anesthetic. I was scared, nervous and quite honestly, freaking out beforehand. I had heard horror stories from people who underwent breast reductions and was worried that the doc would take too much. Just before the surgery, I specifically remember telling him, “If you’re gonna error, error on the side of too big, Okay?” The doc laughed and knowingly said, “I gotcha. Don’t worry. You’ll be beautiful.”
Although instantly happy with the results I had, I was in pain. The doctor only removed approximately 5 lbs. of tissue and skin, but it felt like I was cut in half and had just done about 3,000 situps. I wasn’t able to stand upright for a few days due to the tightened skin and with all of the stitches I had, my friends jokingly referred to me as “Franken-Julie,” or "Sally," from Tim Burton's Nightmare before Christmas. Cut from hipbone to hipbone, and also vertically from that point to the top of my rib cage, I now have what I consider to be the most beautiful, intricate anchor-shaped incision (which will most likely be a delicate scar). I have those same anchor shaped incisions on the under side of both of my breasts, which as of now, are proportional, full and perky! They are healing fabulously and even though slightly creepy, I think the stitched up areas look cool. The surgeon was an artist with the scalpel. These incisions are so thin, that I cannot imagine them leaving ugly scars. Unfortunately, I am also suffering through the discomfort of having three drains hanging off of me, while my body recovers from this massive invasion. Since the surgery on November 8th, I have spent every day and every night on the couch in my living room. Sleeping at a 30 degree angle (as prescribed) and wearing a binder around my entire midsection 24-hours a day, I endure the uncomfortableness of it as well as numb feet and toes from the lack of physical activity. Also, because my skin is so sensitive, I have blisters and reddened scrapes and cuts from the annoying body binders. Just one month ago, I was running 12 miles at a time. Now, I struggle to walk upright the length of one neighborhood block. It can get disheartening. But, every day I am feeling better and walking just a bit more. It’s not pain anymore…it’s mostly just discomfort, with an occasional burning sensation if I overuse my core muscles. (For example, stretching to get something off of the top shelf in the kitchen is definitely a no-no.)
Even through all of this, I am quite happy. I am very thankful for all of the support I've had from my family and friends throughout all of this. Words cannot express how much their visits, phone calls, emails, cards, and flowers have meant to me. The results of my surgery are even better than I could have imagined, as I have zero (yes, ZERO) stretch marks on my abdomen. And, with my muscle now repaired and no extra skin in the way, I’m even more motivated to get cut. (And no, I don’t mean cut open again.. I mean ripped!) I actually can’t wait to start back at the gym and work my abs out! People tell me, "You’ve had a tummy tuck and lipo – you don’t need to work out your abs anymore!" But for me, it’s just a better showcase to use the body I’ve worked so hard to get! I have no intention to have a body-builder physique… but some definition is definitely sexy in my book.
Plastic surgery isn’t just for people who are vain or have body issues. It can be very healing. It is often medically necessary and it can change your life for the better. I’m not saying it’s for everyone. Sure, some use it as an “easy, quick fix” to change some part of themselves… but for me, it was so much more. It gave me back my confidence, it allowed me to actually see all of the hard work I’ve done to get healthy over the last three years, and, it will hopefully make a huge impact on my health and running. It has also given me something I strive for in my daily life… a feeling of balance.
Oh yeah, and I got to cross off something from my bucket list!
Here’s to dreams coming true and four more weeks of healing… (and, bikini season! Haaa!)