I have been thinking about improving my natural qualities almost a year now. When I simply dared to mention my intentions to friends and family they all said the same thing: you’re good the way you are, not risk it.
It’s easy for someone else to say nice things about you. They don’t wake up everyday and battle to have a bra to fit nicely. They can’t possibly imagine how much it disturbs to look in the mirror and not like what you see. You may look good for them, but if you don’t look good enough to satisfy your own eyes, what’s the point? You’re never going to be happy the way you are then just change it.
I stopped to think about all the decisions I’ve made without anybody’s approval. If I want to I will do it and to hell with what everybody think.
So, two months ago I started visiting plastic surgeons until I found the one I felt like I could trust with the final result and with my health during the procedure. He was the only one who told me to visit a cardiologist. The others merely said an electrocardiogram exam would be enough.
He was also worried with my size. Since I’m small and my ribcage is tiny he wouldn’t implant more than 280ml or else I’d never put my arms forward again (I had a good laugh imagining that).
So I had to correct a small symmetric problem I had. In the right breast I had to put 280ml while in the left it was 260ml. The incision was going to be from below the breast; and the implant would be placed between the glandule and the muscle.
Perfect, the theory was ready and so I started with the practical part. I went straight to my gynecologist for a full checkup and then to the cardiologist. The doctor was very surprised how healthy I am. My cholesterol is very low and my coagulation is 100%. There wasn’t even a cyst in my mammography (and I have lots of cysts). Basically, I was perfect.
Two weeks later I returned with all the exam results in hands. The plastic surgeon only said that it would be better if I got a general anesthesia for my comfort. He explained that today the risk of a general anesthesia is minimum; actually, it’s the safest there is.
The price was a bit high, but I had to choose a good hospital with an ICU in case the worse happened. I had to pay only for the implants first, but everything else would be paid after the surgery.
May 21st I woke up at 5am and drove myself to the hospital. I was very excited, but my mom by my side was nervous like never before. My room had Plasma TV and DVD!
The doctor came in at 7 o’clock to draw some marks on me. He showed me where he would cut and also marked the middle of my chest so both implants would be aligned.
I looked at myself for the last time in the mirror and said bye bye to small breasts!
The anesthetist arrived and I immediately liked him. He was very funny. I lay down in the stretcher and he started with a light sedative. I don’t remember anything else from there, but my mom said…
“How are you feeling, Vivi?”
“Like I drank two glasses of Vodka…”
“Okay… what about now?”
“Like… I drank…four glasses of Voooodka.”
“That’s perfect! Let’s go.”
And later the doctor’s assistant told me I arrived at the surgery room all happy and talkative.
“Are you excited?” She asked me.
“Wow… man… what a daaaze. I want anesthesia foreeeeeeeeeeever.”
Of course I don’t remember any of that. I felt like I just blinked in my room and opened my eyes in the recovery room with this scene:
“OMG they’re huge!!”
The anesthetist appeared and asked me how I was feeling. I was great. He was surprised that I wasn’t even disoriented or sleepy when I woke up.
The nurses took me back to my room where my mom, my dad and my sister were waiting. As soon as I saw them I squealed,
“Yay! Big boobies, dad!! I’m never going to see my Netherlands again.” I think I never saw the old man laugh so hard before.
Happiness can’t even start describing how I was feeling. Finally I had done what I wanted for so many years!
I have to say I first thought after ‘yay boobies’ was ‘can I eat now?’. My stomach was empty for nearly twenty hours at that moment and as soon as I sat on the bed I asked for food. The nurse stared at me very surprised.
“Aren’t you feeling nauseous?”
“Nope, I’m famished, actually.”
“All right. First you drink two glasses of water and in twenty minutes if you don’t feel nauseous I’ll bring you lunch.”
I drank the water and it only worsened my hunger. My dad left for work and my sister went back to college. I was left there with my mom once again.
I only noticed a slight discomfort when I stood up the first time to go to the bathroom. It hurt to stand up straight. I was surprised when I saw myself in the mirror. I was really fat!!!!
“What happened? I was so thin when I arrived here! Do I have to go for a liposuction now?”
“No, you’re like that because the medication. In two or three days you’ll be just like you were.” The nurse answered and I was a bit relieved. I made a mental note to avoid the mirrors for three days.
Then I had lunch, but it was just a small amount of soup and I wasn’t learly satisfied. So I asked my mom to sneak out and find me something very good to eat. She returned with brigadeiros, orange cake, M&M’s and a bottle of coke. Wow, I love you, mom.
Believe it or not I ate everything. I have no idea what had gotten in me. When I was satisfied my friends and family started calling me on my cellphone.
I watched a film on dvd and decided that I couldn’t stay in the hospital anymore. That horrible bed was betting me a backache and there was nothing on TV.
It was 5pm when the hospital’s doctor (not my surgeon) arrived to check on me. I was already dressed and ready to go. I just wanted them to get the IV from my arm (because they were bugging me more than the surgery itself).
He saw me standing there pacing and just stopped.
“Are you sure you’re the patient?”
“Yeah, can you get this needle off my arm?”
“My my, what a rebel patient. You’re not feeling dizzy or in pain?”
“Nope. I’m great.”
“Did you go to the bathroom since you woke up?”
“Three times. I drank a whole bottle of coke.”
“Yeah, why? I shouldn’t have…?”
“No… that’s not… I’m surprised, that’s all. Nobody feels good enough to eat let alone drink coke.”
“Actually, I’m hungry again. Can I go home anytime soon?” I asked while he checked my blood pressure and heart rate.
“Usually it’s the procedement to stay in the hospital for 24 hours when you get a general anesthesia, but since you’re that good I’m going to call your doctor so you can be checked out.”
Indeed I returned home the same day.
It was nightmare trying to get some sleep. I took a Vicodin (or a version of it that they sell here in Brazil) and had to sleep almost in a sitting position. I couldn’t turn around no matter what. My poor back was ruined.
The next day I didn’t even have to take painkillers. I got my dog, my blanket and a bunch of movies and sat in the TV room all day long. It was awesome because I called and there was always someone around to give me what I wanted.
The first bath was freak show. When I took the bra off I almost knocked myself. They simply popped out twice the size I thought they were going to be.
I took a shower, but with the drain tubes and the bandages I could barely feel clean. My mom had to help me because I couldn’t raise my arms very much and couldn’t scrub my back.
The disgusting part was over. The next day I returned to the doctor. He removed the tubes and replaced the bandage for a smaller one. I had two more days of antibiotics and three of anti-inflammatory pills to go.
The size started reducing from there and the small pain I felt from the cuts was completely gone. I can’t even believe it was that easy to recover. How come some people say it hurts and there are a whole soap opera suffering during the recovery? C’mon people! Waxing hurts! Plastic Surgeries are a piece of cake!
My only small problem was two weeks after the procedure. The bra started rubbing on my stitches and a little of blood showed up. I had them glued back together and returned to my normal life.
In the third week my doctor was so amazed at my recovery that he left me start driving again, but said I should take it easy. This week he said I’m free from that horrible bra and I can wear whatever I like. I can go back to the gym and drive everywhere I want.
The only reminder of the surgery now is the little line below my breasts. I’m used to the new size and I love every second of it.
My doctor took pictures from before and after (that was yesterday), but instead of posting the pictures I’m going to post a drawing I made from them.
The last thing I have to say if for those who say you should be happy the way you are. That’s romantic crap! If you’re not happy the way you are just change! Don’t spend years in therapy trying to accept something you don’t like. Take a plastic surgery and let all the bad feelings go!