I admit...there's a part of me that wishes the damned Mayans were right about 12/21. Just goes to show you--you can't trust a Mayan. They're sneaky little bastards. Although, I do very much appreciate Chichen Itza. So, thanks for that one, Mayans. However, your 'end of life apocolypse' ideas are way off.
Today is BOOBMAGEDDON. And it will happen. Unlike the sneaky Mayans, I can be trusted. It's 4:35am, and I am feeling confident and ready to go. I took the boobs out for one last go round yesterday. We went to the gym and Kohl's. They were happy to be at Kohl's. They told me. I looked down my shirt and whispered, "Here we are, girls!" and they perked up. Then I came home and I toasted them with 1/2 a bottle of Chardonnay. These boobs have been good to me, so I wanted to treat them right on their last day here.
At 9am this morning (central), I invite all my friends to sing an acappella version of "Memories" from Cats. I find that fitting. Or "My Humps, My Humps, My Lovely Lady Lumps" from Black Eyed Peas. That, too, is apropos. If you choose to dance while you sing, that would be great, too.
My bag is packed and I'm off to take a shower with some gross-smelling soap. I guess they want you to smell like the hospital BEFORE you get there. So to you, my friends, I bid you adieu. I'm off to get rid of these killers on my chest and begin my life with FOOBIES.
WOO HOO!! See you guys on the flip side.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 19, 2012
Playing with boobies (FBtF)
Thank you for tuning in for another exciting installment of...."From Boobs to Foobs" with your charming host, Stephanie Wisdom.
Hello, people! I started off our day with a sunrise appointment with the plastic surgeon--another boob builder. Alas, unlike my breast surgeon, this guy's name is not 'Bob', so he can't be 'Bob the Boob Builder the Second." This guy's name is Kyle...so...let's see...hmmm...there are no boob monikers that begin with the letter 'K'. Let me know if you think of anything good. So, anyways, The Rack Builder looked at my killer boobies, measured my killer boobies, then talked about building me a killer rack. I felt odd when he took a picture of me standing there, topless, with my "I love you, Mommy" bracelet upon my wrist. Then again, everything about this whole 'From Boobs to Foobs' saga is weird. I won't lie. It still feels like it's not really happening.
Anyways, The Rack Builder is really nice, and really conversational. I know, right? Here he is, this doctor holding up silicone boobs to HIS chest showing us how it will work, and all I can think of is, "He's holding fake boobs and we're having a conversation." I also noticed that he had some new chest-hair growth where his scrubs split. I got to play with fake boobies. It's like a round water weenie. But it feels more stable. If you don't know what a water weenie is, you're totally missing out on a good analogy. Anyways, we're going to go with silicone. And by "we're," I mean ME. The silicone they use these days is pretty nifty--you don't have to worry about a leak because it's like a gummy bear--solid, but pliable. PLIIIIIAABBLLLE. I love that word. I like the way it feels in my mouth (Sorry, part of the OCD, my friends).
My surgery's on the 28th (still...yay!). At that point, Bob the Boob Builder (he's actually a 'Remover' if we're being technical) will lop off ye olde boobs, then The Rack Builder (TRB) will step in and throw some tissue expanders under my pecs. The tissue expanders look like deflated crystal balls with a disc in the middle. I'll have a hose coming out each side of me. I'm planning on hissing and making them sway from side to side when I walk--just for theatrical effect. Maybe i'll drag one of my legs, too. That's still undecided. TRB said i'll be seeing him about once a week for quite a while after the tissue expanders are put in. Which is kind of a pain, since he's a bit of a drive away, but what can I do? The guy's building me a new set--I'll make the drive. Once i'm in his office, he'll hold a magnet on my chest to see where the disc aka port is on the tissue expanders, then he'll poke a needle into it and add saline. We'll do this once a week until my new boobs are the desired size. He asked if I was happy with the size I am now. I said, "Yes." Then I changed my answer to, "Let me rephrase...I'm happy with the size they LOOK like they are, while i'm wearing this bra. Which, if i'm being honest here, is just a placeholder for my boobs." After 4 years of nursing babies (back to back kids), the chest lumps took a beating. TRB shall be restoring them to their former glory. The restoration will not be without scarring and some hard work, but I will once again have boobs...
I'm ready to get this show on the road!! SO...Merry Christmas! I'm getting non-lethal boobies--what are you getting?
Hello, people! I started off our day with a sunrise appointment with the plastic surgeon--another boob builder. Alas, unlike my breast surgeon, this guy's name is not 'Bob', so he can't be 'Bob the Boob Builder the Second." This guy's name is Kyle...so...let's see...hmmm...there are no boob monikers that begin with the letter 'K'. Let me know if you think of anything good. So, anyways, The Rack Builder looked at my killer boobies, measured my killer boobies, then talked about building me a killer rack. I felt odd when he took a picture of me standing there, topless, with my "I love you, Mommy" bracelet upon my wrist. Then again, everything about this whole 'From Boobs to Foobs' saga is weird. I won't lie. It still feels like it's not really happening.
Anyways, The Rack Builder is really nice, and really conversational. I know, right? Here he is, this doctor holding up silicone boobs to HIS chest showing us how it will work, and all I can think of is, "He's holding fake boobs and we're having a conversation." I also noticed that he had some new chest-hair growth where his scrubs split. I got to play with fake boobies. It's like a round water weenie. But it feels more stable. If you don't know what a water weenie is, you're totally missing out on a good analogy. Anyways, we're going to go with silicone. And by "we're," I mean ME. The silicone they use these days is pretty nifty--you don't have to worry about a leak because it's like a gummy bear--solid, but pliable. PLIIIIIAABBLLLE. I love that word. I like the way it feels in my mouth (Sorry, part of the OCD, my friends).
My surgery's on the 28th (still...yay!). At that point, Bob the Boob Builder (he's actually a 'Remover' if we're being technical) will lop off ye olde boobs, then The Rack Builder (TRB) will step in and throw some tissue expanders under my pecs. The tissue expanders look like deflated crystal balls with a disc in the middle. I'll have a hose coming out each side of me. I'm planning on hissing and making them sway from side to side when I walk--just for theatrical effect. Maybe i'll drag one of my legs, too. That's still undecided. TRB said i'll be seeing him about once a week for quite a while after the tissue expanders are put in. Which is kind of a pain, since he's a bit of a drive away, but what can I do? The guy's building me a new set--I'll make the drive. Once i'm in his office, he'll hold a magnet on my chest to see where the disc aka port is on the tissue expanders, then he'll poke a needle into it and add saline. We'll do this once a week until my new boobs are the desired size. He asked if I was happy with the size I am now. I said, "Yes." Then I changed my answer to, "Let me rephrase...I'm happy with the size they LOOK like they are, while i'm wearing this bra. Which, if i'm being honest here, is just a placeholder for my boobs." After 4 years of nursing babies (back to back kids), the chest lumps took a beating. TRB shall be restoring them to their former glory. The restoration will not be without scarring and some hard work, but I will once again have boobs...
I'm ready to get this show on the road!! SO...Merry Christmas! I'm getting non-lethal boobies--what are you getting?
Dec 7, 2012
T minus 21 (FBtF)
We are now T minus 21 days until the onslaught of Boobmageddon. I must admit--i'm feeling slight anxiety. I figured out that it's because I am a planner and getting the 'girls' removed was not part of my Christmas plans. Getting tissue expanders put in, drains hanging out of me, being immobile and having limited motion of my arms: also not in my plans. Then again, worrying about dying before my chicks are married with babies of their own--DEFINITELY not in my plans. You win some you lose some; in this case, i'm losing boobs. However, i'm also winning a nicer, perkier set. Upside, people...UPSIDE.
I'm sleeping better now, which is nice. I'm sure it won't last long, but i'll take what I can get. I've figured out that as long as I stay up until I can no longer function, i'll sleep without worry. I'm also being much more lenient with the babies. For instance, in this non-preservative, clean-eating, organic house, these kids have had more candy than ever. We never go out to eat/order take-in--we've done that 3x JUST THIS WEEK. I've adopted an "I don't give a crap" attitude. Which could be good or bad--i haven't decided just yet.
I still haven't cried about this--I can't think of a reason to. I figure that if I sat in the soft glow of the Christmas tree, while everyone else was asleep, and thought about it, I'd cry. But then again, those tears would most likely be because I'd realize I have to put all this crap away at some point...and that's just a pain in the ass.
So, on the 27th of this month, the eve before my surgery, I shall have a toast: "Out with the old, in with the new!! (Boobs, that is!)"
I'm sleeping better now, which is nice. I'm sure it won't last long, but i'll take what I can get. I've figured out that as long as I stay up until I can no longer function, i'll sleep without worry. I'm also being much more lenient with the babies. For instance, in this non-preservative, clean-eating, organic house, these kids have had more candy than ever. We never go out to eat/order take-in--we've done that 3x JUST THIS WEEK. I've adopted an "I don't give a crap" attitude. Which could be good or bad--i haven't decided just yet.
I still haven't cried about this--I can't think of a reason to. I figure that if I sat in the soft glow of the Christmas tree, while everyone else was asleep, and thought about it, I'd cry. But then again, those tears would most likely be because I'd realize I have to put all this crap away at some point...and that's just a pain in the ass.
So, on the 27th of this month, the eve before my surgery, I shall have a toast: "Out with the old, in with the new!! (Boobs, that is!)"
Dec 3, 2012
My coworkers support BOOBMAGEDDON (FBtF)
I know i've commented on how awesome my place of employment is. During the past 2 weeks, i've seen an outpouring of support from them that i didn't know possible. They have rallied themselves, my friends, and total strangers for BOOBMAGEDDON.
http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/Boobmageddon/36003
I need Tiny Tim to perch upon my shoulder, so that he may utter, "God bless us, every one." Thank you, every single person that even reads my story, for your support. It's the best thing ever. Besides original Twinkies. You know...before they tried to make them 'healthy.' Now they suck.
xoxox
http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/Boobmageddon/36003
I need Tiny Tim to perch upon my shoulder, so that he may utter, "God bless us, every one." Thank you, every single person that even reads my story, for your support. It's the best thing ever. Besides original Twinkies. You know...before they tried to make them 'healthy.' Now they suck.
xoxox
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