My boobs are fully bionic. This was the last surgery in the double mastectomy and reconstructive process. The swap was made by reopening my scars, deflating the expanders, rolling them up like cigars and slipping them out.
The deflated expander’s front and back, showing the blue magnetic area where saline is filled with a needle.
The bait and switch. This is the example, but the actual implant is round.
Replaced with soft silicone, my halogen high beams became hamburger buns. I could see why my doctor wanted me to do the fat transfer. It looks as though they are in a push up bra while defying gravity.
Bra size in buns. My boobs resemble the B cup, I mean bun.
I asked my reconstructive surgeon about it in a follow-up appointment a week later.
“What’s up with these hamburger bun-like boobs? Will they change over time and gravity?”
“Wait. I thought they would sag a little after the surgery.”
“They will stay the way they are.”
I let out a heavy sigh.
“You can still get a fat transfer to fill in above to smooth out the transition.”
“No. I can live with the hamburger buns,” then I thought to myself, “At least I won’t need to wear a bra.”
He examined my breasts and said, “I would like you to wear a bra for the next 4 months. I opened up the stitches under one of your breasts. The underwire will give it support and keep them even.”
I groaned imagining the underwire pressing on my sore stitches beneath my skin.
“And I would like you to do an exercise to keep them from sliding to the sides of your body.” He took both breasts in his hands. “Push them together at a right angle for a count of ten. Do this exercise ten times, twice a day.”
I rolled my eyes.
“When can I go back to my normal life?”
“Usually patients can start easing into things after three weeks, but I know you. You have to wait until four weeks. In the meantime, no repetitive motion, pushing or pulling.”
“What? Come on.”
My husband Danny laughed.
“What about tennis?”
“I would wait a couple of months. Start back in December by hitting a few balls.”
“Alright. I’ll be good. I promise.”
It’s been three weeks since the reconstructive surgery. It feels like a milestone even though I am a week away from being able to open and close heavy doors, vacuum, wash floors, dust, and wipe down counters. Dang! Now that I think about it, maybe I should wait until five weeks, just in case…
Meanwhile, I find that reciting these words while doing my exercises helps me with the count.
We must. We must. We must increase our bust.
The bigger the better, the tighter the sweater. We must increase our bust.
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