This has been a long, hard week.

I went back to work on Tuesday, and as I reported, it wasn’t nearly as tiring as I expected. And almost all of my workdays were like that- the activity gave me some energy, and things were good. My coworkers have been really helpful and we have a good pattern going on.

But Friday was rough. I was in a hard Jersey store, and Jackie was working with me. Jackie is my friend, but also my manager, and there’s some extra pressure when she works with me. It also happened to be a bad depression day, one of those days that reminds me that, though I’m much better than I was a year ago, when I spent most of my time on the couch, too tired and sad to do anything but watch tv, I’m not completely recovered. So I spent all day trying not to cry over little things, and couldn’t wait until I could get home and curl up in my bed.

It’s so weird to be having days like that, too, when I’m so happy with my reduction decision. I went to the mall yesterday to see what I could find. I got my first ever Peter Pan collared shirt, something I’ve wanted to wear for years, and a tank top I couldn’t have thought of wearing before. I also went to aerie and got my first ever non-underwire pretty bras, the kind I’ve always wanted. Shopping has never been so fun. I have to completely rewire my thinking, but so many more options are open to me.¬†

Of course, I got stuck in a dress while trying it on, which kind of hurt me on one side, and add that to working my first week (and a full one at that) and getting some very very tight hugs at a party last night, I am very very sore today. I get the last of my stitches out tomorrow!




Last week, I went to my requested plastic surgery appointment. It was the only time, besides the blood test, when I’d see her before the surgery itself, and I didn’t want to be standing in the hospital right before my surgery asking what size she thought I’d come out as.

I was extremely nervous- I don’t really know why, since the only thing I figured we’d do was chat, no examination or anything. I think it was because I am so scared that the insurance is going to pull their coverage and I’m going to wake up on the other side of surgery with awesome but expensive boobs that I now have to pay for.

But my PS assured me that that’s not usually the case. I had a chat with the insurance company a few weeks ago, too, who also said that the only way that they definitely won’t pay for it is if I get a different procedure entirely or in addition to my reduction.

At my initial consultation with my PS, I felt like she kind of rushed me along, and that bothered me. But she really took her time with me during this last appointment, making sure I got all of my questions answered and bringing things up herself, so that settled my mind. One thing I had been feeling pretty secure about was her skill level- she has excellent patients reviews for not only her breast surgery, but her speciality, which is hand surgery. While in her waiting room, I was looking around at the other people, wondering if they were there for their pre-op visits, only to find out that they were a few months to a year post-op from hand surgery. I never would have guessed.

In the end, she told me that what a lot of doctors and websites and patients (in the world in general) say is wrong: you can’t go to a plastic surgeon and say “Make me a DD.” ¬†Especially with reductions, and especially if you’re like me and want to go on the smaller side, issues of safety come into play. I can request to be a C or a B all I want, but it all comes down to what my PS determines is safe when the procedure is going on. And, as I said, I can’t even request to be a C or a B, because the PS doesn’t bring a bra in and hold it up to your in-progress breast to check the sizing. They’re more concerned with taking out a certain amount and making the two breasts generally the same shape and size. So my PS said I’ll probably end up a C or D when going bra shopping. I so desperately do not want to be a D. I want to get out of D territory forever. But since I’ve been squeezing myself into the wrong bra size until a few months ago, my idea of a D, and what a D actually is is skewed, and anything will be an improvement.

The prospect of the surgery is still really really scary to me, but it has never once crossed my mind as the wrong choice. Almost ever part of my life, from daily activities to passing my reflection in a window, reminds me that what I’m doing is right. People- doctors and non-doctors alike, save for my therapist, seem really concerned that I’m not concerned that I might not be able to breastfeed when/if I have kids.But to be honest, breastfeeding is never something that I’ve felt the need to do. Maybe I will regret it if/when I have kids, but it’s not like there is no other way for me to feed them.

I also know that a lot of women wait until after they’re done having kids to have the surgery, but I can’t wait. Besides the fact that I want to have it now, for all the reasons I’ve already discussed, I can’t imagine the disappointment I would feel if I ended up childless (by choice or not), knowing that I could have had this relief decades earlier. Yes, if I were at a point in my life where I thought I was ready, or almost ready, to start a family, I would probably wait, but I’m not at all. It will definitely be a frustration if I do have kids and I swell back to the size I’m at now, but I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it again.