CC' s Ain't Nuthin' But A Number

CC' s Ain't Nuthin' But A Number

I cannot believe I have come full circle on this journey! It seems like yesterday I was sitting in the dimly lit corridors of Mount Sinai for my double mastectomy, terrified as I received my IV. I was so unsure about what the future held for me. (Still kinda am.)

As I arrived back to Mount Sinai for my implant exchange, my mood was completely different. I was excited. I was anxious— but not about the surgery. I was anxious to get these concrete expanders out, and move forward with implants.

Steve and I arrived at the hospital at 6am, ready to go. Steve was chugging coffee, selfishly while I sat there parched not able to drink anything. (just playing, Dyba you know I love ya) The morning ran smoothly. I went back to the surgery holding area, where I put on the flattering paper gown that is 10 sizes too big. In the other room, Steve was taking over my Instagram saying lord knows what. We ran into our neighbor who was also having surgery that day. (We still don’t know for what, although we are so curious.) My anesthesia nurse came by and she recognized me from last time. We had a hearty giggle about how dope the cocktail was she gave me last year, and how completely out of my mind I was — I asked her for the same cocktail this go round. Yes please.

Then Dr. Samson came in to mark me up. It was almost showtime. I was ready. Without skipping a beat, a wheelchair came buzzing around the corner and they were shuffling me off to surgery. As I sat back and enjoyed the 60 second ride to the OR, I noticed a little girl who could not have been more than 5 being carried back to surgery by her parents. They hugged her tight as they turned her over to the surgeon. I bit my lip. Shit could always be worse, I thought to myself.

The last words I remember hearing before that amazing anesthesia cocktail kicked in were “imagine you are in Guadalupe.”

When I woke up, imagine my surprise when I was not in Guadalupe, but in a dark recovery area with a man standing over me with a Dixie cup of water. “Drink this,” he ordered. From there on out, I was in an out of consciousness, trying to get back to Guadalupe.

The next thing I know, I am back in the original area I was placed in before surgery. There were two small packs of Oreos before me. Don’t mind if I do. At some point Steve showed up. The rest of the day really was a huge blur for me. I wanted desperately to look at the new gal pals. Alas, they were very bandaged and sore.

We arrived home to begin recovery. I want to address many of the questions I have received about this surgery. See below:

Q: Was this surgery less painful than the double mastectomy?

A: YES! Case and point, you are allowed to go home the day of surgery. No drains, either. Need I say more?

Q: How long did it take you to not feel sore?

A: I was pretty sore for the first 2 days. After that, I am only sore when I over exert myself or stretch too hard. I can’t sleep on my side yet for at least a few weeks, so that has proven annoying.

Q: How many CC’s did you get? (CC’s stand for cubic centimeters or the size of your implants)

A: I believe around 440cc’s.

Q: Do they feel much better/different?

A: 100%. I was able to shower after 48 hours and got a better look at them. They feel so much better, and like a real breast should. They are still a little swollen, but each day that passes they look better. I am very happy with the end result.

There you have it. Another check box on this phase of the journey. The closer I get to “real life” without surgeries or treatments to prepare for, the more I am feeling weird about the whole thing. I guess the answer is to take it day by day and acknowledge these feelings as part of my process. (And maybe plan a trip to Guadalupe.)

Why Are You So Paranoid?

Why Are You So Paranoid?

Tell Your Friends To Get With My Friends: Alex Whitaker

Tell Your Friends To Get With My Friends: Alex Whitaker