boobapalooza
posted January 31, 2006 at 11:56 pm
For the better part of my adult life, I always made self-deprecating jokes about getting a boob job. While being thin and flat-chested as a teenager was a source of embarrassment (who doesn't feel completely awkward about themselves when they're that age?), as I matured, I also became more confident and thus, more comfortable with my body as it was. Instead of feeling self-conscious about being a AA cup, I proved (at least to myself) that breasts weren't a requirement for being sexy and attracting male attention. (Or maybe I just attracted all the "ass men" instead. Heh.)
But, given that I'm always one to try to get people to laugh, I did take advantage of the opportunity to make fun of my lack of breasts quite often. The subject became so much a part of my personality that I even included it in a list of "facts" about myself which I posted here about five years ago:
My not-so-secret dream is to have breast implants. When I hit puberty, I was relieved because I was sure that meant the breasts were on their way. I'm still waiting. I've only had cleavage once in my life, and I was pregnant so it didn't last. I often joke that implants will be included in my funeral arrangements, so at least I can enjoy them in the after-life. -- retro: "bits & pieces of me", 03.26.01
But no one, including me, ever really took these comments seriously. I always thought it would just continue to be something I had fun with at my own expense.
Then I turned 40. I bought my iPod, but it didn't feel like enough to mark such a significant birthday. So I kept thinking and thinking and thinking about some bigger thing I might want, but nothing really came to mind - until I had one of those total Holy Shit! moments, when I knew exactly what it was going to be.
BOOBS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yep. The not-so-secret dream isn't just a dream anymore: the AAs are now full Cs. (Though technically, the size isn't really considered to be "final" until about a year post-op, and generally, if it does change, it's in the direction of larger rather than smaller. I'm pretty happy with the size they are now, but apparently something like 80% of women who have breast augmentation wish they'd gone larger. So far, I'm in the minority on that.)
My plastic surgeon (Dr. David Genecov) is a pretty funny guy, too. When he asked me about size, I said I wanted them big enough to justify the pain and the money, but not so big as to be obscene. He replied: "I don't do obscene." Whew!
Then, he made some measurements of my chest and noted that my left breast was slightly larger than my right. I asked if he would add more CCs to the right one to even them up, and he said, "They're sisters, not twins!" That made me laugh out loud, and I knew he was exactly my kind of doctor.
My decision about choosing him was reinforced during my pre-op appointment, when I asked if I'd need to remove my belly button ring for the surgery. The answer was yes, and I mentioned that I had never taken it out and so had absolutely no clue how to remove it. The man got down on his knees in front of me to give it a try himself! (He wasn't able to do it though, so I ended up going to a tattoo/piercing place, where a scary looking guy replaced the ring with a barbell that would be easier to take out right before the surgery.)
So, fast forward to December 14th, 2005. My sister and mother picked me up at about 8 a.m. We arrived at Medical City around 9 a.m., and the nurse took me back to start prepping me. The worst part was waiting for the IV - being needle-phobic, I was more worried about that than I was about any possible post-surgical pain. Once the IV was in, I started to relax a lot more. (Plus, they put this time-release pain patch on my tummy - it was supposed to last 72 hours, but I wore it well after that and it kept on working. It was so wonderful that I barely even needed the Vicodin they'd also prescribed.)
The doctor showed up to draw on me (with a purple marker!), then the anesthesiologist injected the knock-me-out drug into my IV. He and the nurse wheeled me into the operating room, and the last thing I remember is them lifting me up to move me to the table in there - I was out before they even put me down!
Then (what seemed like) minutes later, I was waking up in recovery, the doc was saying, "Let's take a look at 'em!" and I lifted my head to see. All I managed to say was "Yay!", followed by "Ow!" - my breastbone HURT LIKE HELL! It felt like someone was trying to rip the skin right off the bone!! My left breast wasn't exactly thrilled either, but the right one was pretty happy (so much so that I actually started to feel guilty for neglecting it in favor of tending to the left). Fortunately, the meds started kicking in hard and everything just felt stretched and tight rather than out-and-out brutal.
Seven weeks later, the "girls" are settling in quite nicely. The left one is still the problem child - the implants are under the muscle, and the muscle on that side is much tighter, so it's keeping that implant a little higher up than the other one. Patience is apparently a requirement with these things, and as many of you know, I'm rather lacking in that particular trait. So I'm constantly stretching and massaging the left side to coax the muscle into relaxing so the implant can drop down into place faster.
Some days, I do get worried that it's not going to ever drop, but all I have to do is look at the progress pictures I take periodically, and I can see the improvements with each new set. They've actually started to look like real breasts now rather than "frankenboobs", and I even bought them their very first Victoria's Secret bra for their one month birthday. Awwwwwwwwwwwww! LOL!
(And hell yes, I spend a lot of time admiring them in front of a mirror! You would too, if you'd spent 25 years wondering what it would be like to have them!)
Even though I waited such a long time to finally do this, I'm glad that I didn't do it sooner. If I had, I think it would have been for all of the wrong reasons. Instead, I made the decision at a time when I was already feeling happy with who I was. I didn't do it out of a sense that something was missing, or to bolster a weak self-image. I didn't do it to attract men, or to satisfy a "significant other" (there isn't one, though I do occasionally wish there was, just so he could take over these massage duties). I could have very easily spent the rest of my life without larger breasts and been quite content.
So why pay all that money and go through all the pain and trouble for something I didn't really need? Because they're fun. Because I wanted them. Because I knew it was now or never.
And because I needed some new material for my stand-up act. ;-)
Comments
and let me say, they look fantastic!
I couldn't think of a better Christmas present! But then again, what do I know?
And it's a gift that keeps on giving!! Woooohooo!
I am going into see Dr Genecov in March. Are you still in love with them? Are their pictures?
SMW
That's awesome. I'm glad it turned out good. I can't imagine ever having plastic surgery or anything, I'm too afraid of that kinda stuff. Lol.