My breast reconstruction surgery, not what I expected (in a good way)

Jan 25, 2019
Ok guys, I am sitting here on day 7 post op for my foobs, and doing great. I’m hesitant to even say that because this hasn’t been an easy journey, and I don’t want to jinx it.  This post may contain affiliate links, and here is a link to my privacy policy.


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Why did I get foobs (fake boobs)? 


Well, here is more information about why, and here is what happened with my surgery.


It was supposed to be one surgery, but you know things never go as planned!
I got expanders, and those suckers were looking to eat their way out of my body like 
 similar to something out of Alien. They were these huge, oddly shaped balls. My son said they were like really hard mountains.


Every two weeks, I went into the plastic surgeons office for saline fills. With a huge ass horse needle, and that’s not an exaggeration as I spent my formative years on a horse farm. The silver lining? I couldn’t feel it. When you have a surgery like this basically all of your sensation from the incision to mid chest is just gone.




Because I had so many months to plan, I changed my mind about what kind of implant to get.  


You can read about that here...

So this surgery...stop rambling Christy.


I was nervous, but not dealing with the crippling anxiety like the first time. I knew what was coming, and so anesthesia was the source of my worries.  The day of surgery I showered, dropped the kids off at school, and had a moment. A moment where I thought that this decision could mean that instead of keeping me healthy, could take me away. There is always a risk with anesthesia.


When you have surgery, you can’t wear deodorant, makeup, lotions, nail polish, literally anything on your body. Flop sweat had me SUPER funky, and absolutely gorgeous for my procedure.
The doc was late, so I had to wait for the good drugs, and if you know me personally, you know he heard about that when he arrived...I got marked up (still have some of that damn sharpie drawing), got the good drugs, and woke up a second later. Really it was a couple of hours, but that’s the beauty of anesthesia.


I had this huge present on my chest that I couldn’t unwrap for 48 hours and made it home in time for dinner.  This recovery was SO MUCH BETTER. It isn’t easy but ladies that mastectomy was a mother effer. I took my last pain pill on Friday night and got the drains out yesterday.



As I type this, I am walking on the treadmill, 7 days post op. Slowly. But I am so proud to be here. My stepmother is here taking care of the kids, so I’m taking advantage of taking it easy until she leaves. But when she does? I can do it. I will be tired (still healing and the drain sites are a bitch), but I can take care of my kids.



Duck, that’s liberation. Never duck Siri. It’s never duck...



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