Tag: abdominoplasty

It’s Happening!

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My plastic surgery is paid for! We went for the pre-op today and wrote the check. I’m so excited!

I’ve really just been anxious about it, but right now I’m super excited. I can do this! I got this!

I met with the surgeon again (by request) to ask a few more questions and make sure I like they guy. The first appointment I was nervous, naked, and dripping sweat. So it was not the greatest. This time I wore some nice jeans and a fitted but plain-Jane top to show him what I’m dealing with. PUDGE HELL. Like THIS is what I’m here for. He assured me we could get my triple bubble stomach down to a single bubble. I asked him about the fleur-de-lis procedure and he actually said that was a good question. In that one they cut you across (as a normal tummy tuck) and also up the middle. Most people wouldn’t even consider it because they don’t want such an obvious scar. I don’t give a fuck though. So we decided it would be up to him during the procedure. If he thinks he can achieve a good result without, awesome. But if he’s in there and thinks I could get a better result with a little horizontal pull as well, he’ll go for it. It gives him more freedom to do what he does best.

And arms too. We discussed my arms. I’m still afraid they’ll still be big, but we shall see.

December first, it all goes down. Tummy tuck and arm lift in one go. Woot!

Some Things 9/19

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1) Today was my twentieth crossfit workout (not including the four on-boarding classes). I have a baby bicep. I also think I could possibly jump rope. I can hop now which is better than I could before! I can lift weights, I can plank, I can squat, and I can sweat. I can sweat a lot. The other day, a fellow crossfitter though I had poured water on myself. Yeah, no that’s just sweat.

2) I have watched way too many plastic surgery “journeys” on youtube. Like a lot. Too many. I’m obsessed with knowing everything and now I feel like I know too much. In fact, now I have a bazillion questions for the doctor. I’m worried about making Christmas and my court date. I’m worried I’ll be bloated and swollen for a year. I’m getting a lot of anxiety.

Don’t worry, I’m not thinking of backing out. Nope. Imagine that crossfit hopping with my tummy. I have a sport bra for the boobs, but nothings holding that loose baggy stomach in place while I jump up and down. It hurts and I’m sure its unattractive. Thank you, no mirror rule.

I did manage to get another consultation with the doctor. But not until the end of October. Over a month away. But I feel like I want to really be comfortable with him before we proceed. And I have questions. He lists a lot of liposuction — won’t all that lipo compromise the blood supply to the new “flap”? And how much improvement are we really gonna see? Also, do I need a Fleur De Lei as opposed to the regular we talked about? I don’t want a vertical scar, but I think I may need one. Scars are not my primary concern. I’m not looking to wear a two piece bathing suit here. And when can I get back to working out? Most people say a little less than 2 months — but they’re wearing their compression garments and swelling up at 6 months and longer — so ???

3) My precious Jack had his vet visit a little over a week ago. I keep hoping with every visit that his levels will improve, but realistically, I know they won’t. Getting them to hold steady is the best we can hope for. His levels did get slightly worse — but not enough to worry the doctor. She says he may find a new “zone” and stay there. He hasn’t lost any weight so that’s excellent but I still with he’d eat more. I worry about him. I wish I could get him to eat more and drink more. But he”s not LOSING weight which is key.

Oh we are gonna nail this recovery out of spite.

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I’m starting to get a little pissed at everyone’s lack of faith in how I will recover from these surgeries (tummy tuck and arm lift). Everyone’s like “who’s going to take care of you!” — yall, I’M MARRIED. Listen, Mr C plays video games 24/7. We know yall think he’s a bum. But it’s not like he’s gonna ignore my recovery needs. He has been to my appointments with me. He knows I’ll need help getting up from the chair and going to the bathroom and that I won’t be able to pick up even the cat. We’ve discussed that he’ll have to help me with the cats medications. I’ll have to teach him how to put on my compression garments. He’s not a fucking moron. I’m not an infant, I’m still a human that can yell “hey, I have to go to the bathroom.” But my family and his have just acted like he’s useless and I’m getting fucking pissed. Even his momma was like “who’s gonna take care of you!?”

Yall, we’re gonna nail this recovery out of spite at this point. You’re not just questioning my husband at this point, you’re questioning my decision making and planning and I kinda feel like my choice of husband at this point. I’m insulted. Yes, my sister-in-law is going to come up for the first week — but that’s because I’ll be 100% helpless and Mr C will still be working from home. I don’t want to wake him up in the middle of the night and have him help me get up and walk every 2 hours because he needs to rest for work and he’s having a rough time at work right now. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t handle this by ourselves if we had to.

My sister even suggested I recover down there (1.5 hours away). NO. You can’t even take care of yourself, what are you taking about? And yeah, having your giant untrained dog trying to jump in my OPEN WOUND LAP would be fantastic. And having to dodge her with a walker — no problem! What the fuck are yall thinking?

Listen, this is rude — but lesser people than I have had this surgery. Fucking morons that wonder if they should still be in pain 2 weeks later have had this shit done (Oh no, they just cut you in half and sewed you back together! You’re in pain? SHOCKER). People with small children have had this done. People with no support have had this done. We’ve got this.

I’m renting a medical power lift recliner that will help me stand up. I’m renting a walker. I’ll have multiple types of compression garments. I have time to prep. It’s not like I cook gourmet dinners every night. Mr C can make me some eggs or put some meatballs in the microwave for me. And we have friends who could make me some chicken if I ask.

I know it’s going to be miserable hell. I expect this. I’ve seen videos of lots of women who have video logged their journey. Some are peppy and up after 1 week, some are in hell after one week. No idea where I will fall on that spectrum. But I’m strong, yall. I’m not a pussy. I think the hardest part is going to be mental. It’s going to be me restraining myself. It’s going to be me asking for help and waiting for that help rather than just doing it myself and ripping open a stitch in the process.

I also think this crazy crossfit is going to benefit me a lot. One, my body is healing faster and faster after each workout. Two, my squats have gone from using a 24inch box, to a 16 inch bench to a 12 inch box to nothing. That leg strength will really help while my core is out of commission. I’m not even jinxing this by saying it — I got this. You have no idea how much I’ve done under the power of anger and spite alone. I got this. WE got this.

It’s Happening!

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So after the plastic surgery consultation, I had to talk to Mr C.  Obviously, I’m 100% for it.  I wants it [sic on purpose because I’m Gollum and I wants it, dammit].  The question is just when for me.   When can I have it?  Mr C has our purse strings (Don’t worry, we both wield equal powers, some of us are just better at certain things and therefore get to be in charge of them.  Mr C is excellent with finances. I am not) and this is a BIG chunk of coin. 

For Mr C, I think the biggest thing was how invasive it’s going to be.  I don’t think he realized just how fucked up I’m going to be – helpless, basically.  A tummy tuck itself is a painful minefield, I’m combining it with my arms!  How does one get up if you can’t use your arms or your abs either?  Well, one does CrossFit to get in shape for this shit.  One might use a blanket you can pull me up with without having to touch me.  I’m not a pioneer here, lesser people have done this and survived.  For me the only booo was that I’ll be wearing drains for two to three weeks!  Ugh.  I knew I’d be wearing drains and was actually thankful they would just be my stomach and not on my arms too – but three weeks?  I’m going to have to get over the creepiness of a port TO MY INSIDES.  Anyway, we’ll manage.  I might have to request a helper join us for a day or three to help Mr C take care of me while I get my bearings.  But we’ll manage. 

So?  MR C SAID BOOK IT! 

Fuck yeah, he did!  I’m having plastic surgery on December 1st!  My arms ‘gonna be skinny and my pudge ‘gonna be gone!  I’m ‘gonna be so sexy.  Then I’m ‘gonna go back and get boobs latter!  Yall better watch out!  Next summer: nothing but tank tops.  No sleeves, bitches!  And all kinds of cleavage hanging out of everything.  You’ll live with it.  Fifty’s dresses galore!

Next year is our tenth anniversary too!  A few years ago, when I wanted to make my wedding dress into a piece of art we could actually use – Mr C wouldn’t let me.  He thought it’d be nice to take pictures again one day — like our anniversary.  Oh that baby is getting altered to hell and back!  I’m much skinner and my boobs are going to be much bigger!  It’s going to look sooooo good.  I’m thinking a pumpkin patch or a sunflower field.  It’s going to be amazing! 

And we’re ‘gonna have a boobie party!  I’ve been talking about wanting plastic surgery forever.  While the stomach and arms are going to be the big things that matter the most to ME, personally… Come on, everyone’s just going to care about the boobs.  My friends, especially A, have been joking about throwing me a boob party.  Well bitches, it’s finally happening!  I’m thinking when the pool opens up next summer – I can get a super skanky low cut bathing suit.  And we will have a boobie coming out party!  I want a boob Mardi Gras necklace! 

I’M SO EXCITED! 

Plastic Surgeon Consultation

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So today Mr C and I went to see the plastic surgeon. It was strange. Most of it was the nurse telling me a million things I already knew. I’ve heavily researched what I want done so none of it was new. I know the recovery times, the scars, the areas they cut, the results to expect, the recovery time. I even celebrated when she mentioned exparel! Yeah, bitch I know that — it’s a pain blocker shot they inject directly into your muscles while they operate that lasts 3 days. $400, shoot me up, bitches! Less oral pain meds and gets you over that nightmare day 2 and 3. Hells yeah. You want me to leave the surgical tape on as long as possible, of course.

So then it was waiting around for the doctor. And sweating like crazy.

Oh wait — first were the terrible pictures of me in teeny tiny underwear that was way too small for my fat ass. One size does not fit all in the plastic surgeons office, ladies. Pictures of every angle, mostly butt naked, all up in my fat folds. Thanks. This is the photo shoot I always wanted. I felt a lot better having Mr C with me, actually. It was like we were suffering this craziness and embarrassment together. Awesome. I look forward to being in your photo albums.

Then was the waiting around for the doctor and sweating like crazy. I took off that stupid paper gown because paper doesn’t breath. And I asked for a paper blanket to cover up because again, one size doesn’t fit all, ladies. That “gown” had ties on it but they were for Barbie — they weren’t gonna go half way around my ass.

I think my nakedness freaked the doctor out. Which I didn’t get, I mean you’re here to look at and grab and poke at my fat rolls. But he insisted on “as much modesty as possible.” Not sure he liked me — but he likes my wallet so he couldn’t show it 😉

Oh, also, apparently Mr C doesn’t have curiosity about buttons and switches. While waiting, I discovered the switch that made the photo backdrop go up and down AND the volume control for the non existent music. That man lacks curiosity. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed it. He just isn’t inquisitive. He was like “I bet if you had a red button that said do not press. you’d press it.” Well, first I’d ask what it did. But yeah, you leave me alone long enough with no answer, that button is gonna consume my every thought.

Anyway — Surprisingly, the doctor 100% agreed with me! While doing the arms and stomach at the same time is frowned upon and not normally what he would do. He said he’d do it! I’m gonna be in a shit ton of pain for 2 weeks, but he’ll do it! Why? Well, he totally understood. For most people, boobs are their biggest concern. For ME, though — they’re last. My arms bother me the most. That’s followed by my stomach. my stomach pudge sticks out further than my breasts. It makes it look like I’m wearing skin tight pants even if they’re actually too big. It’s just always there flopping around. How can I make an educated decision about my boob size when my arms and stomach are so huge? I don’t know what I’m gonna look like at all! How much is my stomach going to go down? What will I want to balance out my ass? I might not go as big as I would now with this huge stomach. He understood this and agreed. Lets do the stomach and arms and then decide on the breasts!

Now the prices, they were a lot more than we expected. The stomach and arms are as much as we thought the whole kit-and-caboodle was gonna cost. So I’m all in, the question is with Mr C. He’s in charge of finances. So will he go for now or will he want to save up more…

To Be Continued.

So Anxious!

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Tomorrow is my appointment with the plastic surgeon. I’ve waited months for this. I haven’t lost any weight (though I’ve strengthened up with crossfit). So I’m really nervous. I’m afraid he’ll turn me away.

I’m so anxious! Will he agree to do any operation at all? Will be it be arms only or arms and tummy? If it’s the latter, can I handle that kind of recovery without my mom here to take care of me? Then again, he might say no all together. In which case I’ll be heart broken.

Will he be nice? Will he be an asshole? At least Mr C will be there with me for the naked awkwardness. Let’s pray the right decisions are made.

Here We Go

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Blarg! I have been avoiding posting for over a week now. In fact, I’ve been avoiding even typing this post for the past 30 minutes with Facebook and Youtube while the blank page stares at me. Ok. Here we go. I gained 10 more pounds.

I’m devastated! I’m heart broken. I’m depressed. I’m panicy. I just want to crawl in bed and die. I want to just throw in the towel. Do you know I haven’t had a bite of mac and cheese in THREE YEARS? I haven’t had a taco in three years. What the fuck am I doing this for!? If I’m gonna gain weight I might as well get some damn tacos.

Now I’m 20 some odd pounds from my goal with an appointment with a plastic surgeon in a month. Finally, I get the chance to have decent arms — arms that can wear tank tops and cute sleeveless dresses or better yet those ones that tie behind your neck and I’m blowing it! What the actual fuck?

I just wanna die and throw in the towel. I’m done. Ugh. To describe this as a “funk” is an understatement.

But I’m married and have a cat so I can’t be done. Dammit.

I’ve got a blood draw tomorrow to check my thyroid again because — again I say: what the actual fuck?

I’ve also been peer pressured into Cross Fit. I know, I’m gonna die. We start tomorrow. God help me. But with this damn weight gain I gotta do something! More details on this whole Cross Fit $300 let’s-do-it campaign later. Not sure how much later because I’ve got the busiest week planned. I never book up my weeks. I’m lazy. But this week I have something EVERY DAY. Two things Monday. Plus a full time job. Three Cross Fit training sessions. One doctors appointment. One Baseball game (of course this will be fun) and then tubing on Saturday. Good thing tubing doesn’t require energy! Unless I fall out of that tube. God help us then. Yall gonna have to help my ass get back in.

Three Year Ketoversary!

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Today marks three years that I’ve been keto. I have gained a bit from last year but I know I’ll get it back off. It was depression and my thyroid being off. I never stopped keto, so I really think I’ll get back down. 2018: 320lbs, 2021: 238lbs. Goal: get back to 2020lbs.

Still meeting with the plastic surgeon in August. I called to see if he does tummy tucks and arm lifts in one operation. They said its no unheard of but really not preferred. So we shall see. I really want to get my tummy and arms done before the breasts so I can see what I’m working with before I choose my new cup size. And I’m only gonna do two surgeries, not three.

Mr C and I talked heavily about this yesterday. My stomach and my arms are what bother me the most too. So ideally, I want them done together. He asked if that was really a deal breaker for me and if I could only do one, what would I do. Well, we talked about it and I thought hard about it. So arms. If he won’t do tummy AND arms, I’ll start with arms. Then I can come back with the “mommy makeover” of stomach and breasts.

I decided arms because I’ll be getting this done after summer. So they’ll have all winter and spring to heal up before I start getting in the sun heavily again (sun = bad for scar healing). Plus I REALLY wanna get my tattoo. So I need those babies to heal up so I can get a sleeve for my 40th birthday!

I dont want to combine breasts with arms even if it is an option. I read that that can compromise a lot of the blood flow around your arm pits. So yeah. Also stomach and arms have longer healing times that a breast augmentation, so it’d be good to pair them together. Like I said, we’ll see.

Weight Anxiety

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I’ve been having a lot more anxiety and panic lately. I think I’ve narrowed a part of it down the the upcoming appointment with the plastic surgeon. Am I excited? Fuck yes, I am! However, I’m freaking out about my weight gain.

Since mom died. I gained some weight. That threw off my thyroid and made me super hypothyroid. Depression combined with hypothyroidism gang banged each other into over 30lbs. I’m already afraid the doctor won’t accept doing elective surgery on someone of my size (which I would like to get down to 220lbs even though I had been lower — also remember, friend – Mrs C used to be pushing 400lbs so this is a great weight).

I wasn’t extremely worried about the weight gain. I haven’t changed clothes sizes. My doctor caught the thyroid labs being off and we fixed them. I’ve dropped about 7lbs since then. I’ve remained keto throughout. So I know that, eventually, I’ll drop the excess and get back to where I want to be. I wasn’t worried about it. Now, with what feels like a deadline, I’m worried about it.

It’s also “that time of the month.” That combined with seeing a bad photo of myself has my self esteem in the negative numbers. We’re talking shit hole here. Bad. Hence the panic attacks.

I think identifying the root cause has helped a small amount. I talked to Mr C about it. And it’s just a consultation. Maybe he says he’ll do it when I drop the 17lbs to get back to 220. I’m still really excited about boobs and tattoos! Boobs and tattoos! A 3/4 sleeve, a portrait of my beloved Jack, and now I want a little goomba on my foot/ankle. I’m already getting more tattoos and I haven’t even started. YAY!

Plastic Surgery?

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So I’m (maybe?) starting a plastic surgery journey! This is my first post. Notice the new category 🙂

So I’ve wanted plastic surgery for a long time. I’ve been fat all my life. I was almost 400lbs when I went to college. I had gastric bypass surgery in 2005 and wanted surgery to remove excess skin then, but had no way to afford it. Over the years I gained most of the weight back — up to 320lbs. Then, 3 years ago, I went keto and lost most of it again. I’m currently a happy 234 (hoping to get back down to 220). I fit in a womens XL which is easy to find and buy anywhere and I’m a little smaller than when I met Mr C. So win! I know I’m still medically considered obese, but im a good obese. And compared to 400 — I’ll take it!

So I still want skin surgery. My arms are a disaster and my stomach is a lumpy mess.

It’s been stated that I would have this surgery but a time frame was never put on it. One of my friends even jokes about the cake we’re going to have at my boob coming out party! And I joke all the time about “when I get my boobs.” Recently, I was asked what I’m waiting for by my husband. And well, I didn’t know it was an option. We’re so focused on saving money and, well, saving money — that it didn’t occur to me I could do it before we met a few more goals. Then bro-in-law also asked what I was waiting for. So… I booked a consultation.

I asked for recommendations on some weight loss forums and reddit. The main guy everyone recommended only does people below 185lbs. Well, that’s not happening. Sure I could work my ass off (literally) to get to that, but what’s the point if I can’t maintain that weight? I want to look good at this weight.

So Mr C and I are seeing our second choice surgeon in August! I know that sounds so far away, but I wouldn’t have the surgery while the pools open anyway. I wouldn’t be able to maintain the pool, one. And two, I wouldn’t be able to use the pool. Also, this lines up with the job switch coming up in October — so maybe this is Gods timing working out for me!

I want to have 3 surgeries (hopefully combining at least two): Arms, stomach, boobs. My stomach and my arms bother me the most, by far. But I’m not sure they can combine those two. I suspect the way we will go is a “mommy makeover” first – which is torso (stomach and boobs) followed by a separate arm surgery. Not sure they can do all three at once. Highly doubtful.

I showed Mr C the before and after shots on the surgeons page and we were both blown away. So I’m super excited. And it feels really good to have something on the horizon that I’m super excited about too. So many possibilities! Finally getting that 3/4 sleeve tattoo! Our 10 year anniversary pictures in my old wedding dress, adjusted for a much smaller me with bigger boobs! All the fantastic sleeveless 50s dresses! I’m very excited.