She understood the assignment.

I texted my girl friends and asked for some pads to pad my bra. I have very long incisions along my bra line where he removed my side-boob skin (it was lipoed in the first surgery). So with the bra right on those fresh cuts, it’s a lot. So I asked someone to please dear god bring me some pads. The cheapest fattest pad you can find. My ladies understand what I mean — the pads that feel like a diaper. Here’s what she brought me:

K2 understood the assignment. And yes, that’s my favorite ice cream that they don’t sell at my grocery store. This had to be the most embarrassing checkout ever. That’s love.

Then last night K brought dinner and watched some TV with me. Tomorrow A is gonna bring dinner. I’m feeling so loved and supported by my peeps! Thank you all so so much. I didn’t want Mr C to get overwhelmed and it’s working beautifully. (I didn’t send him for pads because he’d have been LOST in the tampon/pad aisle).

Mr C has been great, of course. Today he ran out to get me some iron tablets. He has to keep refilling my waters because I can’t reach out enough to hit the water button on the fridge or lift enough to pick up the brita. So he keeps coming down and filling my water bottles for me. And he keeps moving things to the lower shelves for me like my protein drinks and stuff. And he washed my hair for me. So I don’t want to in any way imply that Mr C has not stepped up to the plate and batted a home run. He totally has.

I just want to thank my girl friends who aren’t legally bound to me who have been helping me out. It means so much to me. I wanna do a gift of some sort for yall. Because really it’s not just the physical sandwich, it’s that you cared enough to help me out. That’s everything. I love yall.

Day 3 Post-Op

I have turned the corner. Yesterday, I started to feel less like fiery hell fire. I know “fiery fire” is redundant, but it is totally applicable in this case. Yesterday, I had a shower and got to see my new boobs. I think I got a good high off of how excited I was so that helped too. K came over with some Firehouse subs that were fucking delicious. And we watched a surprisingly entertaining show call “Is it Cake?” Man, K and K2 are the BEST. I love yall.

Of course, by 8:00pm I was exhausted. I tucked in early but couldn’t sleep to save my life. The hell fire was better, but I still felt like I had the shit beat out of me. Have you ever been in a accident where you got bruised all over? It felt like that. Just like a general “ow.”

I’ve decided that Experel shot was the difference in the surgeries. It gets you past the first three days of absolute hell and then wears off around the turn around point. K is gonna get her boobs reduced and we’re gonna make sure she gets that damn shot. We gonna get her a lift recliner and gonna request that shit specifically by name.

OK Ok Ok, Jack has been rearing to get in my lap while I type this so im gonna let him in. He’s been my recovery partner. I keep a pillow in my lap so he doesn’t sit on my incisions or drains. He just sleeps there and looks cute. I love him.

NEW BOOBS!

Oh my god! I just took a shower so I got my first look at my new breast implants! They’re so good! I’ve only seen them in the bra with all the padding and they look about the same as usual — maybe slightly bigger than when I wore them with padded bras before. But yall, they’re not. They’re real boobs. On my chest. And I’m really swollen again in the hips so I basically look like a badly drawn sexy character.

I’m so excited I want to send nude pictures to all my girl friends but I’m resisting. When I get the drains out I can take pictures in the two piece bathing suit I took before shots it. The difference is HUGE. I love them.

Two Days Post-Op

So I had my breast lift and augmentation two days ago. It’s rough. It’s been real rough. I think the day of, coming home — might well have been the most pain I’ve ever been in. I hurt. I hurt a lot.

After much thought, I think that Experel shot made all the difference. That’s why so many people post about the arms being their worst surgery and I was able to breeze through. I had the Experel because they were doing my tummy too. Well, no shot for just boobs. So, I’m guessing that sans pain medicine, this would be a less painful surgery. However, since I had that lovely 3 day pain killer last time, it got me through these first few days of death. This time I got nothing.

Death, I tell you.

How do people on TV do this? And do it multiple times! My sister said they get better meds and servants. Must be it. Cause I’m hurting. Did I mention that?

I thought they’d be bigger. So I’m a tad sad about that. But I heavily emphasized that I didn’t want to go above a DD so they kept to that. They’re still more than a handful and they were much less than a handful before. The implants are 650ccs each. I’ve got to keep them iced for the first 48 hours, so that’s been fun. There’s also long incisions along my bra line where he cut off extra skin. Well, go figure — the compression bra falls RIGHT THERE.

So K2, a saint, went to the store and brought me 6 pints of my favorite ice cream and pads. Not just any pads, I asked for the super cheap thickest pads she could find. I now have those shoved under my bra and I think it helps a little. K2, you my girl.

I certainly didn’t expect this much pain or uselessness from this surgery. The other surgery (full tummy tuck with muscle repair plus arm lift) went so much easier! I almost didn’t even rent the recliner for this one. It’s just a boob job right? Holy fuck. I was allowed to shower today but I’m in too much pain so we’ll save that for tomorrow or later.

Fuck me. This hurts. But the tummy tuck scar revision doesn’t hurt at all. He fixed the dog ears on the side and took out some mons skin and im hoping that big chunk of scar tissue that was there from a popped stitch. At least the pain meds are working on that — cause they sure as fuck aint working on the boobs.

Day of Surgery Number 2

So it’s 5:30 in the AM. I’ve already downed 40 ounces of recovery drinks per instructions. I’m about to hop in the shower and get ready for plastic surgery round 2! Breast lift and augmentation, removing extra skin around the sides on the bra line, and a tummy tuck scar revision (where he hopefully takes more skin).

I’m not worried about the breasts. I really want to talk to him before surgery about the revision. There’s a good chunk of scar tissue where that stitch popped and I had an opening that I want him to cut out. Also, I want him to take a lot more skin from my mons area. And of course I’m worried something bad could happen. Fucking Ides of March.

I’m also worried about my sweet Mr C getting overwhelmed taking care of me. I hope I’ll be able to take care of myself a good bit. I feel pretty good though. It’s not an over-nighter. The lift recliner was delivered yesterday. I’ve got two weeks off work for recovery. And I’m gonna look great in a bathing suit!

New Garden Tools!

I got new garden tools! As a near-40-year-old, spiffy gardening tools bring me great joy. Tis the season to spring clean the flower beds! Especially since I’m having surgery next week. Shits gotta get done before then. I called out the lawn guy for an estimate on cleaning up the branches in the yard and cleaning the leaves and branches from the pool area. He tried to up-sell me on letting him take care of my flower beds. He said trimming and mulch could really spiff them up. Well, I usually take care of that myself. I just hadn’t got around to it yet. Plus I don’t like my azaleas over-trimmed. They’re supposed to look natural, not square. And don’t dare trim my spireas! They’re not yet full grown. So last weekend I got my ass out there and weeded and put down and ungodly amount of Preen (supposed to keep weeds out). And I ordered myself some new goodies.

First, a hedge trimmer. Last year I didn’t trim my hedges. It was a year of mourning. In the years before that, my mom would just bring up my sisters hedge trimmer for me to borrow that once a year you need one. Well, moms gone. So I bought my own hedge trimmer.

Click the picture for the link. Why this one? Well because all of my garden tools are 40 volt Black and Decker. This means all of my $100 batteries fit all of my equipment. Do I need three batteries to get through trimming my hedges? Nope. But I sure do need at least two batteries when I’m doing a lot of weed-eating. Keeping everything from the same line of products means a lot of cross versatility.

I was so excited to use my new hedge trimmer that I trimmed hedges on my lunch break Wednesday. Ah, the perks of working from home. I wish I had a before picture. It’s just so satisfying how nice and clean everything looks with just a bit of a trim. My Japonicas needed a hair cut badly. The azaleas got just a tad bit of a trim to even them out and keep them below the window line. I particularly like a hedge trimmer because it makes me feel so powerful. I shall cut ALL THE THINGS. But not my arm off — like a chainsaw. Chainsaws are terrifying. Hedge trimmers are satisfying without being terrifying.

What else did I order? A garden wagon.

Don’t make fun of my garden wagon! I need this thing. I hate my freaking wheel barrow — it always wants to tip over. And every year it needs new air in the tire. So I finally got a garden wagon. With solid rubber tires that won’t ever need air. And it’s huge — holds more than the wheel barrow. Holds 220lbs too! And it folds up! Fuck yeah it does! No disassembly required, just folds up. What?

God willin’ and the creek don’t rise, I’m gonna use it Sunday to pick up all those branches I trimmed and haul them off. Then I’ll use it to drag bags of mulch over to where I need them. Then Mr C can load it with 8 bags of fertilizer I bought and walk the property line and fertilize my arbor trees. Then this summer, I can use it to haul all those 40lb bags of salt and pool chemicals out to the pool. Or a load of chairs for a party.

What I’m saying is, I’m excited about this wagon.

Some Things 3/4

1) New highlight moment:

Backstory – I always preorder my deli meat so i don’t have to wait in line to get it cut. Also, I’m wearing capris to show off my sweet goomba tattoo.

*I Grab my ham from deli fridge*

Deli guy: “Are you picking up for Roberta?”

“No,” *indicates ham* “I got mine.”

Deli guy: *100% talking to my goomba (its obvious, its my ankle, approximately 5 feet below my eyes):* “You’re [Mrs C]?”

“Yes. Thank you”

Deli Guy: *Still starring down my goomba* Cool

Goomba basically got cat-called, yall! Mr C better watch out. Soon all the young nerds will be torn on whether to look at my new boobs or my sweet 8-bit tattoo.

Also, Roberta is a terrible name. Surely, Roberta would not sport such a cool gem as this.

EDITED FOR CLARIFICATION: He called me by my name, not “Mrs C.” No, he did not recognize me from my blog. No one reads this shit, especially not the guy from the deli down the street. He probably sees my name on online orders all the time from my deli meat and picking up subs for Mr. C so was just associating a face (actually a goomba) with a name.

2) I live in a swamp. People might not know it’s a swamp because it’s highly developed with nice housing, but dude, you live in a swamp. So the wet areas are really wet. This leads to swarms of frogs. Frogs singing in such loud masses that it sounds like a summer song. I’ve only ever heard this in Florida — Specifically, from the roof of the condominium we have stayed at every year since I was conscious of time. The frogs in the undeveloped lot across the street that was there when I was little. So hearing them now makes me a little nostalgic for my mom. Us going up to the 16th floor to look at the ocean and the lights and hearing the song of the frogs. It’s bittersweet.

3) My second surgery is in less than TWO WEEKS!

4) I recently found myself with a few hours shooting the breeze with a lawyer. Vaccines came up, of course. You go through the “do you want me to wear a mask, I’m vaccinated, but if it’ll make you more comfortable” — usually because I’m wearing a mask. They’re required at work and I wear them to the store and stuff. So we were discussing how hard it was to get the vaccine when it first came out and we were both in the “give me that shit” category. Now of course a lot of people are antivax. Those people suck. Good thing you weren’t around when we needed to eradicate polio.

Tangent, sorry.

So he was curious how my fellow engineers reacted to being required to have the vaccine. (We work government contracts in this city, so it was a requirement until some court shit postponed it). I told him everyone I knew was all for it! We’re engineers. We think logically, not emotionally (“which is why you don’t like us on your jurys”). We work with SMEs all the time. Subject Matter Experts. We are well aware and taught that some people know way more about this thing that you can ever hope to know. A lot of us become SMEs in our career. We wrote the damn program and were on it from its conception. You’re the SME. Just like my lawyer is my law SME. I don’t know shit about the law, so I pay him. So when the engineers were told by a shit ton of medical SMEs that we better get the vaccine — we didn’t worry and hem and haw. They know more than I ever could about it. The people I immediately work with felt the same. We were gunning to get that shit in our arms LOL

Be smart. Listen to the SME. Doesn’t make you a sheep. A sheep can’t tell who the SME is. I’ll give you a hint, the SME didn’t get their degree from youtube.

5) This shit is fucking delicious:

Ascent Recovery Water. I was in Sprouts looking for something low carb to drink as I was thirsty. Grabbed this watermelon water. Holy shit. It’s fucking delicious. Tons of flavor! And after I drank it I was looking over the bottle — 20 grams of protein! What? It has whey in it. But it was crystal clear pink water. Is this sorcery? Why is sorcery always so expensive!? If this was affordable, I’d drink them daily for sure!

Mr C’s Attack Dog

Mr C fears confrontation. I’m not sure if he fears it, or it’s just too awkward from him — but he doesn’t confront. He has me to confront. I do not fear confrontation. I enjoy it. I take pride in it as a skill. Therefore, whenever Mr C wants to know whats going on, or pwn someone who’s trying to rip us off, he just calls on me. Cause, fuck it, I’m in.

So Friday, Mr C calls out (we’re working from home) that someone’s taking pictures of our house. “What do you mean taking pictures of our house?”

“They’ve parked in the driveway and are walking around taking pictures of our house.”

“You want me to see why?”

“I thought you’d be interested.”

“Do I have time to change out of my PJ pants?”

I’m very possessive of our property. I don’t know if it’s because I like having property or what. I just don’t like people on my property without my permission. Maybe I just like that it’s mine. Maybe I’m the old man yelling “get off my lawn!” Maybe you look shady as fuck even if you weren’t taking photos of my house.

It was gutter people. They were making an estimate on cleaning our gutters. They cool. I got their card. (Gutter Pro sent them — but Gutter Pro works like a pimp pimpin out gutter cleaning whores. I’m serious. You just sign up and say “I’ll clean gutters” and they start sending you addresses. It’s terrible. Mostly they send people ill equipped to do a large two story and we get turned down — if they show at all. I never said they were good pimps.) So Mr owner of “Chainz” (I told you these people looked sketch as all hell) was taking photos to justify a higher price for the job.

The roof was too slick for them to finish today but I asked Mr Chainz’s handyman if he could fix our coat closet doors too. Cause dude, I need a handyman. He’s gonna give me an estimate when he comes back for the gutters.

Anyway, I hate that if there’s ever a bump in the night, I’m gonna be the one investigating. I always wanted to date the protective type. The guys who were at least as big as me. I’ve got 100lbs on Mr C. Dammit cute nerds.

Zoom Meetings

I wish more people used their cameras in work meetings. I’d like a face to associate with a name. So I tend to turn my camera on a lot more than other people. I don’t get dressed — I’m still in a tank top and compression sleeves and a compression binder — but I throw on a cardigan and turn my camera on.

Today we were about to have a meeting with the customer so my manager wanted to play around with her settings. I decided to do the same. I finally found the blur background (I had never looked for it). I work in the spare room and so my background is actually a lovely piece of art I made myself that is covered in paper succulents and says “Relax.”

Relax -- Seen here with my lazy Coworker.
Relax — Seen here with my lazy Coworker.

It’s perfect for when this was a guest room. However, it’s a little too on-the-nose to my work ethic for work purposes. So Now it’s blurred. Nice.

Now… I also found an option to “soften my appearance.” Now, I do hate the weighty standards and expectations that Photoshop and filters have brought to everyones body images. I, myself, hardly ever wear makeup and don’t touch up my photos (unless it’s going on a Christmas card and there was broccoli in my teeth). BUT. That said… this setting makes my camera not show every flaw in my 39-year-old, sun damaged, PCOS-affected, stressed-picked-at skin. I look younger. I look like I have makeup on. I look like I didn’t just roll out of bed and walk in here.

I cranked that shit to 75%

Sorry, not sorry.