Tag: plastic surgery

I’m alive!

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This is day 2 post-op. Surgery was Wednesday, I came home Thursday. It’s going well. Well, as well as can be expected. I feel good this morning so I’m sitting up and thought I’d post.

I feel so guilty that I can’t do anything for myself. I got Mr C and my Sister-In-Law up here taking care of me. My drains have to be cleaned every 3 hours — they are pumping it out. I feel odd about the drains. Like I feel like I’m losing at good nutrients leaving my body. I need those!

So this lift recliner is a LIFE SAVER. Worth a grand easy. I can get up and down alone if needed. Those crossfit squats are paying off in that getting up and down for the toilet is pretty easy.

Also my doctor commented that I had great muscles! HELL YEAH. I asked how separated they were and he said only a little bit and they were in good shape. Abs baby, they’re there, you just can’t see them 😉

He took off a LOT. I think he told Mr C they lipo-ed more than 10 pounds and took 7 pounds of skin.

Thursday morning was a CLUSTERFUCK of massive proportions. I’ll tell you about it later. My arms swelling and needs to be raised.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow, it’s only a day away…”

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So the big day is tomorrow! Tummy tuck and arm lift. 8:00 AM. Gotta be there at 7:15 AM and have three different drink mixes drank before 5:15 AM. Got it. I plan to wake up at 3:00 (it’ll be more like 3:30 before I make it downstairs), drink all the drinks that I’ve already mixed and put in the fridge. Surf Facebook while I do that. Then I’ll shower and scrub down with my antimicrobial and get dressed and ready to GO.

Yesterday they delivered the lift chair. It’s very fancy and brand new. Dear God, I hope Jack doesn’t scratch it. I also got a walker. However, today the nurse told me not to use a walker! She said I should walk hunched over for the first 24 hours. But after that I should be trying to stand up straight. She said you don’t want your abs healing all scrunched up. Makes sense. Not a total waste though. I got the walker with a seat on it. It’s the perfect height to sit at the bathroom sink and brush my teeth, freshen up, and clean my drains.

Let’s see. I took two fresh towels downstairs for cleaning up and what not. I have everything where it should be. Loads of pillows. I even bought straws. No one listed straws on their lists but they’re all using them in their videos. Big brain, that’s me 😉

I’m going to try to not watch anymore youtube videos about other people’s recoveries. It’s a bad habit I picked up. People range from “Oh I went and got starbucks on my third day” to “Kill me, this was a terrible mistake, I’m two months out and still can’t walk upright or lift my kids.”

I got this. We got this.

Surgery in T minus 4 days

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For those scouring the internet for pre-surgery advice, this post contains my supply lists for my upcoming tummy tuck (abdominoplasty) and arm lift (brachioplasty).

l’m getting ready for my surgery. Thanksgiving is over. ALL the Christmas decorations are up inside and out. The medical equipment I’m renting is being delivered on Monday. I’ve got all the prescriptions filled and labeled in layman terms. (Except for the pain killers. Mr C will fill those day-of). I’m organizing like I’m nesting or something.

I’ve got three baskets: Hygiene, Medications, Wound Care:

Since I’ll be living downstairs for a while I loaded up the hygiene basket:

  • Body wipes for between showers
  • Face wipes
  • Chapstick
  • Deodorant
  • Tooth brush and paste
  • Mouth wash
  • Razor
  • Body Spray
  • Dry Shampoo

The medication basket contents were all laid out by my doctor:

  • Lots of prescriptions. Nausea, Motion Sickness, Antibiotic, Blood thinners, Muscle relaxers
  • Tylenol — the only over the counter pain killer I’m allowed to take starting last week
  • Probiotic
  • Stool softeners (to start Monday)
  • Laxative to start day after surgery
  • Arnica because everyone on the internet swears by it

Then we’ve got wound care:

  • Gloves
  • Bandages
  • Medical tape
  • Brand new clean scissors
  • Qtips
  • Polysporin (the latter two for around the drainage sites)
  • Antimicrobial soap
  • Alcohol wipes

I also bought something so morbidly embarrassing — but better to have and not need than to need and not have: A poop stick. To wipe your butt. LOL

I’ve got wedge pillows for when I can upgrade from the recliner to the couch for sleeping. (Our bed is crazy high so that one will be a while off). A Travel neck pillow for sleeping in the recliner. I’ve got lots of compression socks (Have to wear them for a week). I bought an extra binder so I can keep one clean (It’s basically a 16 inch wide elastic band ill be wearing for 6 weeks). Two sets of arm compression sleeves. Three front zip bras. Four pairs of comfy pants that are comically too large for me. That’s because everyone says you want BAGGY clothes. Four button up plaid shirts — we’re bring grunge BACK! One fancy shirt that zips up and has pockets to hold your drains. Oh, and a boppy pillow for my arms. They need to be raised and in physical therapy they use boppy pillows for that. So I stole their idea.

I’m renting a lift recliner and a walker with a chair built in. I’m hoping to call them early enough on Monday to try to get one of those tables that goes over a hospital bed to use with the recliner for my laptop.

I’m not ready. But I’m ready.

Making a list, checking it twice…

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I’m making a Walmart list. I hate going to Walmart so it’s pretty damn rare that I do. However, with my surgery supply list, it’s just more economical. My surgery is is a week and a half! What!? It came up so fast! I’ve got to go get all the supplies I’ll need. So I’m making my list.

Man I’m so excited and nervous and anxious. I haven’t been sleeping. I’m gonna look so good — but the results will take months and they’ll be hell to pay in the mean time. Hell to pay in months of swelling and who knows how much pain. I think a lot of pain.

I can’t believe I’m doing this! It’s happening.

Normal

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So my dad called last night to talk to me about my upcoming surgery. I’m pretty surprised he remembered I was having surgery, but still. He thinks it’s too much surgery. He also keeps referring to when I had gastric bypass and gained my weight back as “before.” As in, “that’s what bothered you so much before.” “Maybe if you had this last time you wouldn’t have gained the weight back.” Which is irritating because he doesn’t know me. He’s never known me. Then I realized later that he probably “knew” me through facebook. So ok pass. I still don’t like it though. It’s cringey.

Any who, he thinks I’m doing too much. Like I would ever take this guy’s advice. Even if it is too much, I won’t admit it out of spite now. (To family, that is. I’d tell yall if I done fucked up LOL). That’s how I roll with assholes. He also asked me if it would make me look “normal.” I had no idea how to take that so I just said “naw, I’m still gonna be fat.”

“Normal.” Ugh this bugged me. My family has always been on me to wear makeup and do my hair and look “better.” Mom, bless her soul, did too. Why has my normal never been good enough? It got especially worse when my brother married a beautician. “Why can’t you be more like her?” My brother and my father wanted me to go all out. I’m not one to go all out. Perhaps as the men in my life, they though I’d be a spinster as ugly as I am. Well fuck you, I’m not. I’ve got a great career, I’ve been happily married for over nine years. And I’m still balding and only wear makeup for special occasions. I thought we had moved past this? “will it make you look normal?” DIE, MOTHERFUCKER.

I’m doing this for ME. Not to look “normal” for my family. I wanna feel good in my less saggy skin. And rock a sleeve tattoo. And do power cleans without hitting my belly pudge. I did 50 95lb dead lifts Wednesday. My husband thinks I’m hot. He loves my huge ass and thighs and soon he’ll love my new-and-improved boobs too. And I’ve lost a ton of weight. Oh and I make a lot of money for your shallow asses. My normal is just fine. My normal is just about ot get a hell of a lot finer.

Riding High, Playing Hooky from Work

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Mr C is taking the day off work. I had such a good pre-op appointment yesterday that has left me in a great mood. It’s also my last two weeks on my current job. So fuck it, I’m not going in either! Hooky day! Of course I still had to get up since my cat as screaming at me. I’ll make that up with a nap later.

I just called and got my medical equipment rental set up. I’m renting a lift chair and a rollator for my tummy tuck and arm lift. I read that you’ll really want a walker to get around for the first week or two since you’ll be hunched over. So I figured a rollator will give me the walker plus a place to sit. This will help in the kitchen or in the downstairs bathroom when I’m brushing my teeth and stuff. And the lift chair will be a life saver. I’ll be sleeping in it and it’ll make getting up less of an ordeal for those helping me. There was concern on how my helpers would help me up since they can’t really pull on my arms. K to the rescue with her knowledge of the lift chair. Apparently, it’s a recliner that helps you stand up. And I can just rent these things. Awesome! So cross that off the list. Only 9:30am and getting shit done.

This weekend is HALLOWEEN! My favorite! I’ll be doing crossfit tonight and there’s a Halloween party at 6:00. Well, I’m working out at 5:00, so I know I’ll be pressured to stay. Might as well prepare. So I’m taking a meat and cheese tray and my Mario costume to change into after the workout. Should be fun! And the over-sized Mario hat will cover my hot mess of sweaty hair. Win!

Long Halloween Weekend! Woot woot!

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!