Tag Archives: surgery

Boy Crazy/Spring Fever

I have a confession to make:  I am boy crazy for the first time in a looong time.  Or, at least, that’s probably what it seems like to everyone lately.  I’ve been flirting like there’s no tomorrow, “hitting on” my friends, and talking a lot about “dudes” in my tweets.

But . . . there’s more to it.

It’s not so much that I am reverting in maturity to a boy crazy junior high schooler.  No, there’s more to it.  I do, however, admit to a bit of a reversion lately (drinking more on the weekends, staying up late, etc.).

Again, there’s more to it.

First, a little background.  I’ll cut straight to the more recent history.  In college, I was very confident in myself.  While I knew I was not the prettiest, or skinniest, girl, I knew that I could still go after whatever (or whoever) I wanted.  And so I did.  I’m not saying I would throw myself at men, or that I would approach anyone.  Rather, if I was interested in someone, I didn’t automatically discredit the idea–I would pursue the idea.  Sometimes I would be “succesful,” other times I would fail.  And of course there were the times where I would fail MISERABLY.  But the point?  I was trying, and I was putting myself out there.  Nothing was out of reach if I wanted it bad enough.

"Look at me! I'm a freshman in college and I exude confidence!"

"Look at me! I'm a freshman in college and I exude confidence!"

Some where along the line, this all changed.  I lost my confidence.  I began to focus more on my failures–or prospective failures–and as a result, stopped trying.  I no longer saw myself as desirable and if anyone expressed interest in me, I would assume they were either: a) joking, or b) a fetishist.  I stopped caring about how I looked, and as a result of not caring stopped making any effort to look “presentable.”  I still had friends and still had good times (some of the best, actually) but I didn’t have a single “crush” and didn’t have a single “prospect.”

I considered myself to be hopeless.

But that’s all beginning to change.

I’ve spoken of this already, but the main inspiration for my surgery was to get my confidence back.  I wanted to feel comfortable in my body again.  I wanted to feel like I could be desirable again.  And so I went to that doctor, after having worked on losing the excess weight I had gained during my “I’m not worthy” stage, and had the weight lifted off my chest.  Almost literally.

And now it’s all beginning to come back to me.

The first step was to start having crushes again.  For so long, I thought crushes were futile–they would never “go anywhere” and I would just get hurt.  Well, who cares about getting hurt?!  You’re not going to accomplish anything if you never even try.  So I got my back off the wall and decided to start “looking.”

Then, I jazzed up my wardrobe.  I bought clothes that actually fit and that I felt comfortable in.  I cut my hair, finally.  I started taking care of me for once.

It’s been almost three months since my surgery and there’s already a difference.  And not just the physical difference.  I am putting myself out there.  I am working on my goals.  I am flirting (albeit a little too much sometimes–sorry if you have been one of my “victims,” ha ha!).  I am viewing myself differently.

So, if you’ve noticed a change lately, you are right.  And if I get a little annoying, just let me know, okay?!

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A Farewell to Boobs

Finally–I’ve found a picture that is sufficient to show the “before and after” of my surgery!

To those who didn’t know, I had breast reduction surgery in November. Those who don’t know me may be thinking, “WHY would anyone get their breasts REDUCED?!” Well, I think the photograph I am about to share is more than ample proof this was a necessity for me . . . Also, there are tremendous health benefits (namely relieving the pressure on my back and spine that has been torturing me for years, as well as a much decreased likelihood of developing breast cancer) and even more tremendous emotional benefits.

I used to be very confident. I never thought I was a bombshell and I never was to the point of being arrogant, but I was satisfied with my looks and wasn’t afraid to approach new people. Then my boobs, which had always been on the “bigger” end since eighth grade, suddenly EXPLODED after I went to college. They went from being an asset to liability. I would gain weight and it would go straight to my chest. I would lose weight, and it would go from everywhere BUT my chest. I also developed an ovarian/hormonal disorder (PCOS) in college and I wasn’t good at staying on “the pill”–every time I would go back on my boobs would just balloon out more.

It was bad.

I received so much negative attention due to my chest I just stopped caring. I stopped taking care of myself and as the result of wearing nothing but sweatpants for six months gained a lot of weight. Any time a guy would talk to me, I would just feel VIOLATED–automatically assuming he was a fetishist who was only talking to me because of my boobs. So I STOPPED even thinking of myself as being capable of being found attractive–it just wasn’t going to happen.

After I graduated law school, I started working out more. And eating better. I decided if I lost a certain amount of weight, I would look into getting “the procedure” done. Coupled with being employed by the State with great benefits, I knew I COULD get the surgery so long as it was declared “medically necessary” for free, but I didn’t want to get it done until I was close to a weight I was happy with.

Over the course of a year and a half, I lost the amount of weight I wanted to. Then I developed a stress fracture and had to stop running (I was up to 10 miles, too!) and of course gained weight back–but only 5 pounds in 3 months! Then I was set to work out again and lost it and then some.

I was thinking I would get the procedure the summer of 2009. However, one day I woke up, popped my neck, and couldn’t move. I was scared. I called the doctor and got in that day. Ends up I pulled my neck BECAUSE of my boobs. I was then referred to a plastic surgeon and the whole process began . . . I will save the ins and outs of that for another day, but a couple months later I was under the knife.

And now, a couple months after surgery, I feel better than ever. I’ve taken a new interest in my appearance (as in I actually care now and don’t wear the same pants and a ponytail to work EVERY day) and feel my confidence slowly oozing back. It’ll probably take awhile still to learn how to “put myself out there,” but now I have the attitude to begin trying. :) And now I am even further motivated to continue working out because I am no longer being “weighed down” by the sandbags that were attached to my chest–can’t wait to see how much my mile time will go down!

So, without further ado, I bring you:  BEFORE AND AFTER!!!!

After: Jan. 2009

Before: Oct. 2007

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My New Worst Enemy

I used to love my bed.

I guess I still do love it–I just haven’t felt in love with it lately.

My bed is nothing special.  It’s not huge, I don’t have a fancy mattress.  No ornate padded headboard, not a platform bed.  It’s just your average, headboard-less, full-size bed.

Last year, I took steps to making sure my bed would be more than just ordinary.  My grandparents bought me a memory-foam mattress pad when I started having serious back issues, and I asked for and received additional bedding and a hypoallergenic mattress case for Christmas.  I have a variety of pillows–hard pillows, soft pillows, memory foam pillows, pillows that always feel cold, pillows that always feel warm.  I had three different comforters–one down, one down alternative, one regular.  (And I actually got a FOURTH comforter last month.)

And, let me tell you, it was bliss.

Lately, however, all those accessories of comfort have been meaningless.

I’ve never been the best sleeper, but I’ve never sucked at it.  I’ve never been one to be just able to fall asleep as soon as I hit the bed, but it’s only occasionally I spend hours tossing and turning before falling asleep.  And I wake up at the slightest noise, but it’s always been that once I have initially fallen asleep, I can fall right back asleep if woken up.

Not anymore.

A few weeks ago (almost three!), I had breast reduction surgery.  Because of that surgery, I have to sleep on my back.  I’m normally a side-sleeper who switches sides in the middle of the night.  At first, the back sleeping wasn’t too bad.  It took me a little longer to fall asleep, but once I was out, I was OUT.  Probably because of the pills.

However, as I am coming closer and closer to “recovery,” I am finding it harder and harder to sleep.  Both to fall asleep and stay asleep.  The past two nights have been AWFUL.  I can’t get comfortable, and then within a few hours I am awake again and have to try to get comfortable again.  My neck feels strained, I don’t know what to do with my arms (usually, I have them lifted up under my head–can’t do that anymore, either, because I am not allowed to lift my arms over my head).

But the worst is what to do with my LEGS.  My knees are weird and I cannot keep my legs perfectly straight without having to “kick” them out and pop them.  For awhile, I would keep my back straight on the bed, but bend my torso.  This resulted in a mysterious numb/cold/tingly spot on my leg that brought me back to the hospital to rule out a blood clot.  No one knows what it is, though it is most likely a pinched nerve from twisting my pelvis.  Hopefully, HOPEFULLY, it will go away once I can resume normal sleeping.  But I’m not too hopeful.

Then I started using a pillow to elevate my knees.   That also stopped working.

I am going crazy.  I take pain pills before bed, even though the pain is not too bad–with the exception of the annoyance of my numb/cold/tingly spot that always gets worse right when I go to bed.  That’s not working.  I am about to lose my mind.

Let’s just keep our fingers crossed that at my next doctor’s appointment, next Wednesday, the doctor lifts all my sleeping restrictions and I can return to a normal life!

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