So, I just finished the week of recovery from my stage 3 part of reconstruction. Whew. Kinda hairy there. Not what I was expecting, did not plan on that long of a cut, what the hell are on my breasts, what a crazy week. Okay, let me back up.
Tuesday morning, 5:45 am at the hospital. Checked in, ready to go. Surgery time is scheduled for 7:30. Plenty of time to meet and talk with all the people who are gonna be working on little ole me. The pre-op nurse, so sweet, great with the needle, made the checkin process nice and smooth. Anithesiaologist, Anisthegiol…, crap, I dont know how to spell it, the gas guy, you know who I am talking about. Anyway, met with him, they talked about what was gonna happen, what they were gonna use, blah blah blah, I have no idea, but, yup, you guessed it, the man was there. I love my husband. Luckiest girl in the world, thats me! He listened, took notes, held my hand, was there when I yelled at him and he still kissed me and loves me. He rocks. Anyway, the nurse for the surgery came in to go over more stuff and talk about what she was gonna have to do. Yup, need a foley, cuz the surgery is gonna be about 2:30 to 3 hours. She reminded me that when I go pee after surgery it might, well, um, she will try to be gentle, but sometimes there are “nurse tracks” and I will know that someone was there (wink wink, nudge nudge). Oh, man was she right, it hurt to pee for 4 days. ugh! Okay ,so, next! Then my plastic surgeon doc came in. We discussed the size, shape and placement. He used a laser beam for exact measurements and levelness. Kinda zoned a bit, started to laugh. Lets face it, heres this doctor using a hardware tool from Home Depot or Lowes to make sure that the nipples are gonna be level on “the girls”. Please laugh with me, or I just might scream. Then he had to make some marking for where he was gonna take the skin from.
Okay, I gotta back up again. Stage 3. NAC procedure. aka- I got nipples. They dont just grab some of the skin on the breast mound and squish it into some kinda nipple shape. They actually “make” nipples from skin grafts. Usually they use skin from under the arm, but since I didn’t have enough skin there (really, looks like I have plenty) he had to get some from the lower abdomen, just above the um… well, kinda below the bikini tan line, but above the, um… well, er, um…okay, the hair line. geez, kinda silly, me getting all modest and stuff now, oh well. Onward…
So, the doc drew some lines on the lower tummy area where he was planning to do the grafting from. Now, while he is doing this, I am staring at my man and at the ceiling and at the door and just about everywhere else. Needless to say, awkward. He’s a doctor. This is what needs to be done. So he’s drawing lines where he is gonna take the skin from and I am thinking to myself, “um, these lines seem really long” ”maybe they are just guidelines”. ( eyes closed, head shaking, back and forth) NO! thats how long the ACTUAL suture line is gonna be.
Back track, regroup. I need to mention that before Tuesday morning I was really questioning whether or not to go through with this part of the procedure. Skip it. Dont do it. I dont need nipple, never liked them before anyway. HATED when I was cold and they could poke your eye out. I was really thinking about not doing this. I was worried. After everything that has happened in the last 10 months, I was kinda freaking about this procedure. Intuition. Nerves. Scared. Not sure what I was feeling, but I just wasn’t sure about this one. But my man was there. He listened. He cared. He loved. And it would be alright. One step closer to normal. And sometimes normal is okay.
So, anyway, I have digressed…. Surgery went well. I guessed. I was asleep. I do remember being wheeled out of the pre-op room, I got a kissy from my man, went down the hall, through the doors, made the turn, into the room. Lights…Noises….People… Dry mouth… Bright lights… New nurse….Hello… Can I see my husband…Hello….Oh, hey baby… I have to pee. Nurse tracks. Ouch!
What the hell are on my breasts???!!! They look like little yellow pillows or fluffy clouds. They are sewn on!!!??? What the …ouch, it hurts to bend. Oh, man the bandages are way to big for just a little suture. FREAKING OUT NOW.
Breathe.
Okay, handsome, I need details. SO,… the surgery went great, well, except there was a little issue, kinda like a problem and so it took longer and there are new sutures and …. Start from the beginning please.
So the NAC part of the procedure was going very well. He did the skin graft, waved his magic wand, sprinkled the fairy dust, and poof, nipples! Silly me. It was going okay until the doc got to my right breast. He noticed that my pec muscle had “thinned” too much and so he had to go in and reattach it. So that meant a longer time under, a new set of stitches. (he did use the already healed scarline from the last procedures). But its gonna be a bit longer heal time and so forth, blah blah blah.. I am not sure of all this. I actually see him tomorrow for my post-op appointment, and I have a few questions for him. 
So healing is going well. This past week has been a bit of a blur until about Thursday. It takes me a while to detox from the meds and stuff. I did get a shower on Thursday and it felt wonderful. Well, sortof, I have to wrap my chest up in plastic wrap so it doesn’t get wet, because the “pillows” dont like to be wet. Poor babies. These pillows have some kind of special petroleum jelly kinda goo on them and I am not enjoying them one bit. But it just for the week. I can do one week. One week is easy. ( right, sure, no problem, uuuuggghhh!!!!) So I have to wear the plastic wrap in the shower, only shower from the back and allow very little water to run down the front. I do this everytime I take a shower. Which is everyday. Piece of cake! I can’t wear a bra. So it hurts to bend over, not just because of the pressure on my chest, but because of the stitches on my tummy. These pillow thing are not supposed to be squished, but I have to wear something. So I am back to wearing my handsome hubbys big shirts. I look cute, or so he says. Monday morning cannot come soon enough.
