90. Pre-Op for the Finale (Phase One)

After a second night of insomnia and only 2 hours sleep I had to get up for my Pre-Op assessment on Thursday.

What is a Pre-Op?

Pre-operative assessments involve blood pressure, weight, blood, swabs and a chat about medical conditions. I can highly advise taking an 8am appointment if you can, as with doctors surgeries, the team gradually run late by the afternoon. I have, in the past, on a number of occasions now (I am getting old hat at surgery now) spent over 4 hours in a Pre-Op Assessment ward with an afternoon appointment. Hot, stuffy, boring as hell. My 8am appointment was over in an hour and half, brilliant stuff and the best experience of Pre-Op yet.

6.45am  Alarm...eurrghh!

6.55am  Cup of STRONG coffee

7.10am  Lashings of anti wrinkle cream

7.35am  Out into the crisp new autumnal air and into the 8am rush hour

7.45am  Discovered the 8am commuters are grumpier than 9am commuters and way more aggressive.  How rude!

7.58am  Arrived at the hospital and was spoilt for choice with parking spaces, this is a rare, rare event and I liked it.

8.01am  Entered the doors to a gentle world of fresh shift of hospital staff willing to help, smile and direct me to where I was supposed to go.  Felt sad that most would leave feeling knackered and frustrated having walked past some of them clocking off and going home on my way in.

8.03am  Arrived in the peaceful and friendly Erme Ward, filled out my form and took a seat, watched the Paralympic hand cycling.

8.10am  My name was called and the poking and prodding commenced.

Step One: Blood Pressure & Weight

Having just driven there with a bunch of aggressive driving commuters, I wasn't completely relaxed, plus I always get a little anxious entering hospitals. It always baffles me why they do this bit first for that very reason. My blood pressure was fine, 112/75 (blood pressure explained), but apparently I should have been dead with 238 heartbeats per minute!! Holy cow! Thankfully the machine wasn't working properly, so it was the old fashioned wrist and watch beat count = 75bpm. Phew! I was still alive!

The next bit was the depressing bit, the weigh in. I think all weighing scales in hospitals make you heavier than you are. I had an progesterone implant put in 4 months ago, and suddenly put on 8lbs in weight, which is good for my upcoming surgery but highly unusual for my stable weight record. Back in November 2011, comedy surgeon was concerned that I didn't have much fat for him to work with for fat transfer. I can officially confirm that he now has plenty to suck out and juggle around.

Step Two: Chat & Questionnaire

I ramble at this part. Sat in room with a closed door and a nurse, there is a 4 page questionnaire that the nurse goes through with you, asking about eyesight, allergies, previous operations (which I find weird as they have records of these..surely?), mental health etc. It is this stage that I realise I'm pretty healthy at 39 years old and feel lucky to be that way. The nurse was a lovely lady, we laughed a lot and found out that she had never had a general anaesthetic - lucky woman!

Step Three: Bloods & Swabs

The blood and swab nurse was lovely and chatty.  She took my nose, throat and groin swabs for MRSA tests and took my bloods.  A few pokings, a small scratch and a nice compliment about my dress later I was done, free to leave.

9.35am  Walked out of the hospital feeling good.

9.37am  Walked past the medic team waiting for the air ambulance to land.  As it landed about 50 feet away, a sudden upwelling of emotion came over me as I remembered the day my ex-fiance didn't quite make it to hospital in the air ambulance that tried to save him.  He died as it landed on the helipad at Salisbury hospital after a big RTA.  That day I should have been driving, not him, that day I was spared my life or serious injury at least, and although I have endured other battles, I am still here and I can still fight them.  My mortality is very real to me.  Most people don't think of death but I am very much aware that I am alive and I want to feel it everyday, not sit when I am 80 and realise that I sat on my arse, watched tv too much, stayed indoors, never took risks, did nothing with the time I had here on Earth.  I shed the tears that came from nowhere from the moment, wished the person inside made it, and then sat in my car and smiled to myself remembering some good stuff and then made my way to work.

The countdown starts here for Finale: Phase One = nipple reconstruction, back scar revision (part 2) and fat transfer for breast augmentation (amending one flat one to match the other with a little extra pillow plumping).

Weeeeee!! Here we go!

86. Fat transfer appointment...tomorrow!

Note:  All links used in this post are NHS pdf files and previous posts within this blog.

After a couple of phonecalls to comedy surgeon's secretary, an appointment arrived promptly in the post.  Tomorrow I go to meet comedy surgeon and discuss my fat bits (joy!).  I've been holding off reducing my wobbly bits in anticipation of this meeting.  Hanging on to the wobble for a few more weeks.  Never have I been happier about saying, "yes, I have fat bits, isn't it great?!!".

My risk of breast cancer was so high, 85% high and after three years of waiting for everything to settle down after my LD Flap breast reconstruction (you can read more here) I've finally arrived at the end stages.  I lost a whole cup size and a couple of inches through my surgery, despite being told they would use small implants if the muscle, skin and fat was not enough to match what I had before (I was a perfectly formed 36B when I was a complete woman) yet they were never used.  I'm pretty pleased about that, I never wanted implants anyway but I never expected to be so much smaller than I was.

From the front I look even and proportioned and they appear even but a side profile reveals the loss of volume and I can't find any bras to fit me.  The left is much flatter than the right.  Tomorrow I will go to get measured for a bra fitting and take that info to comedy surgeon.  I'm 63kg at the moment (about 3kg over my norm) and even that small weight gain makes me feel flat chested.  My body spreads its weight well, I'm an all over girl, but my breasts never change size with the rest of me.  I didn't realise how much that would bother me and it was never really explained that it would happen.  The reason is due to the location where the skin and muscle was taken from; my back.  Most people don't put much weight on their backs, unlike TRAM Flap which is stomach fat and muscle, an area where women tend to gain weight easily.  Fat transfer may change this for me, introducing fat from areas of the body that store fat; hips, thighs and stomach and so, as the cells settle in, they will act as they always have, gaining and losing fat with the rest of me.  About 40-50% of the fat injected will be reabsorbed and several visits are required to achieve the results discussed.  The maximum increase is usually two cup sizes.

I'm a little apprehensive but quite excited.  Comedy surgeon has seen me change my mind a few times but this time it feels right.  My time is now, lets do this thing and get on with the rest of my life.

84. Before I actually say no to the boob plumping

I have just seen some fat transfer videos and can't believe how amazing the results When I was keen on this surgery a while back, comedy surgeon reckons it wasn't really worth it but that was a couple of years ago.  Now the procedure is more common, he is offering it to me and I thought I wanted to be finished as I am, but now I am not so sure.  Maybe I do want a bit of re-sculpting all round - as weird as that sounds - a part of me wants to experiment down the path of 'lets make your boobs bigger with fat transfer' (non-graphic fat transfer breast augmentation video here) and a fantastic before and after photo gallery of natural breast augmentation.

Now I know in my last post I said I wasn't going for this but my 'this will only be offered to you once, you only live once, why not' brain kicks in.  So, I think before I get trim for the summer maybe I should just relocate it instead? I am calling my comedy surgeon tomorrow and telling him I want the complete finish me off works.  A girl only has one life and although I am on my second pair of boobs, they could do with a little enhancing of the natural variety.  Fuck it, why the hell not?