Today I was due to be in surgery for the 2nd stage of my reconstruction, what is often referred to as revision.
I’m extremely happy with the results of the 1st stage in that it achieved what it set out to do and I have a natural(ish) looking and feeling right breast. Dressed & trussed my pair look bang(er) tidy, with very little discernible difference between ‘em. But I know and feel the imbalance.
This is an MRI of my breasts. On the right is my foob - breast made from my abdominal fat, aka DIEP flap reconstruction - on the left is my unadulterated breast-tissue boob.
From this angle (you lie on your tummy, breasts a-dangling for this scan), the difference in volume and, er, ‘hang’ is more apparent. And you can just see the lack of nipple on the foob in comparison to the boob.
Stage one focused on ensuring that the transplanted tissue ‘lived’ (swipe to see the ‘heartbeat’ being checked Day +4 #100daysdiep- I’m giving the nurse an “action” queue 😂). Stage two is where the nipple is reconstructed etc. Mine will also be combined with the removal of my seroma capsule and a full hysterectomy.
But not today.
I cancelled my surgery a few weeks ago with the onset of COVID-19. I’m keen as to get this surgery done and dusted, but it wasn’t until I postponed it that I realised how very scared I am about it.
Even more scared than I was for my first phase, which I worked hard with my psyche to prep for, when I completely unravelled post-surgery due to lack of immediate pain relief (and then afterwards had to work even harder with my psyche to try and get over).
My do it/don’t mental duality is embodied in this scan: one breast up-front and perky for it, the other hanging back.
There’s more psyching-up work needed it seems. I’m still undone, unwritten: inside and out.