It’s looking like sometime in the fairly near future I will be losing the nickname of Uniboob. Todd and I met with the surgical oncologist yesterday concerning a prophylactic right mastectomy and I see the plastic surgeon next week about the reconstruction.
Reconstruction has improved significantly over the years, even just since I had my original surgery 18 months ago. The beautiful thing about the particular procedure I’ll be having (SIEA flap) is that I not only get a perky new set of ta-tas, I also get a tummy tuck AND it’s all covered by insurance. The reason for the tummy tuck is because the plastic surgeon will actually take the tissue from my belly, tiny little vessels and all, and reattach them in the area of my chest. It’s a very long procedure because of the microvascular intricacies.
So here’s the thing. I could watch what I eat and exercise in an effort to lose the 30+ pounds I gained on chemo and the 15 pounds or so I would have liked to have lost before that. But then what would he have to work with? I’m not saying I’d like to look like Dolly Parton. I’m sure I’d be constantly losing my balance, running into walls, wondering if my shoes were tied, etc. But I have this fear that if I start losing weight the plastic surgeon will tell me, “You have enough for a AAA cup.” Pfffttt!!! What would be the point??
So for purely medical reasons I have given myself license to eat what I want. I’ll try not to gorge myself because I always end up miserable when I do that anyway. BUT, we are going camping this weekend and I will surely be eating cookies and smores and all the usual camping fare.
I still have the dilemma of my backside, though. This is what I’m afraid I’ll look like afterwards:
Front half – great! Back half – not so great. I may just have to give up my dream of being confused with Carmen Electra next year.