Wow, a week ago today I was anxiously preparing to go to the surgery center. The older I get the more time-dissociative I become, because that feels like a year ago. But Thanksgiving is tomorrow, which also doesn't seem right, so I don't know if this is because I play "Gardens of Time" on Facebook and the storyline has now started to mess with my head.
Aaaanyways, one week later I'm really happy with my results. The incisions are definitely healing, and they look pretty gross, but all in all I think they'll definitely look better with more time. I've been on Tylenol only since Monday and have been doing pretty good, I've even driven a couple places by myself. I will admit I miss the sleepiness of the sweet, sweet nectar the doctor gives you, but that's probably why not taking it all week is going to be better for everyone's Thanksgiving. Someone's got to pull this thing outta their ass, and it might as well be me.
So the kids are home! Huge sigh of relief, and I will be writing a big postful of thankfulness tomorrow to those that made their little getaway possible. Even though they were complete shits when they got home I am still so happy to have them sleeping in their room. Knowing that their there and that they will continue to be there for the next 4 days.
I knew that there would be a little weirdness with Colter because I can explain to Elora that mommy had surgery that took off a big chunk of her boobs, and she can see the incisions (only the tops, I'm not sure if she could handle seeing the scabby mess at the bottom right now), but Colter B has no idea what happened. It was hilarious, last night he came and snuggled me in the kitchen where I sat and visited with my parents, and he just could NOT get comfortable. Back against me, side against me, finally he laid with his chest against me and his arms crossed over his own chest exactly where my boobs would be. It was a teeny bit heartbreaking, but I'm sure he won't be psychologically damaged. Both his parents are insurance holders so I guess we'll worry about mental health benefits if and when he needs them.
My holiday list seems almost made, and I'm opting to keep things very simple, extremely inexpensive, but thoughtful. I'm not a crafter, that Boobs Voyage shirt in this post is one of the few things I have ever gone to a craft store with a specific purpose in making. I can crochet, but I haven't tried anything in the last couple years so I will just buy my gifts, thank you very much.
Well, I'm off to check Black Friday ads. I refuse to go out, but I have one very crazy friend who will be grappling the crowds, and I need to see if I can find a sweet deal on a couple electronic items while she's there. Be back tomorrow with a Turkey Day Toast (and I might be drunk blogging, how fun!)
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Aloneness
This morning, it is completely quiet except the sound of my typing and the Xbox humming in the background. Thad has dressed warmly and packed his hunting equipment to set out into the wilderness. He's been trying to get an elk for the last 5 years, and I'm hopeful that he will go to some random location and find the elk of his dreams waiting for him.
The kids are at grammy's, and when I remember this fact it gives me a dual feeling of excitement and homesickness. I miss their little faces, and their little feet, and although I am completely fine with missing the diaper changes I would happily change a big, stinky one right this minute to get a kiss and a hug from both my kids this morning.
But in the spirit of honesty, I'm also RELISHING this time. Savoring it like a fine wine. (Sidebar: Thad bottled his wine last night, more later) This silence, the fact that Thad is also gone, is a deep silence. I might turn my phone to silent just to keep with the theme. There are no thumps and no sneezes and no deep, sweet breathing of sleeping babes in harmony with the sound of steam from their humidifier. Can you both long for something but also appreciate its absence while it's away? God, could I be more profound this morning!?
Later today I plan to devote a large chunk of time to sitting down with my laptop and figuring out a Christmas List and start planning that shit out. We have a few things picked out for the kids, but I haven't really looked around the sneak previews of the Black Friday ads to see what's going to be out there. I love that there is underground Black Friday stuff, like it's its own bizarre Fight Club to know what will be on sale on the most miserable shopping day of the year.
The kids are at grammy's, and when I remember this fact it gives me a dual feeling of excitement and homesickness. I miss their little faces, and their little feet, and although I am completely fine with missing the diaper changes I would happily change a big, stinky one right this minute to get a kiss and a hug from both my kids this morning.
But in the spirit of honesty, I'm also RELISHING this time. Savoring it like a fine wine. (Sidebar: Thad bottled his wine last night, more later) This silence, the fact that Thad is also gone, is a deep silence. I might turn my phone to silent just to keep with the theme. There are no thumps and no sneezes and no deep, sweet breathing of sleeping babes in harmony with the sound of steam from their humidifier. Can you both long for something but also appreciate its absence while it's away? God, could I be more profound this morning!?
Later today I plan to devote a large chunk of time to sitting down with my laptop and figuring out a Christmas List and start planning that shit out. We have a few things picked out for the kids, but I haven't really looked around the sneak previews of the Black Friday ads to see what's going to be out there. I love that there is underground Black Friday stuff, like it's its own bizarre Fight Club to know what will be on sale on the most miserable shopping day of the year.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Recovery: Day 2
So today I got to watch movies and have lunch at Red Robin while enjoying time with my bestie Morgan. We had an awesome day of chick flicks (Crazy Stupid Love, The Matchmaker, and Dirty Dancing) and polished the day off with 4 rousing games of Yahtzee. We also developed a new philosophy on life, one based on living life to the fullest, one which can be embodied in the words
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Yesterday!
So yesterday was the day! I am now smaller chested, fresh and free
and feeling fabulous. Oh, and I'm on pain meds (can you tell?).
Admittedly, I was pretty nervous before the surgery. I tried to focus more on the excitement of being free from back pain, but the fear of pain still outweighed the excitement. In the end I just kind of had to fake my brave face and go face the proverbial bear in the face. I don't know what proverb that is from, but let's go with it. Also, that was a lot of uses of the word "face".
So the doctor came in and drew a pattern on my boobs. And by pattern I mean dress pattern. Full on darts and shit. He used a big Sir Marks A Lot and a big clear ruler, and drew lines from my collar bone to my waist. And then he pushed them up and around and over to show me what they were going to be doing. They took me into the OR after they drew all over my chest, and at one point I was so surprised that we were already ready to get started that I said through my oxygen mask "Is it go time?" which the nurses and anesthesiologist found quite funny. The other memory that I carry fondly from right before I went out like a light was that they were playing music in the OR, and the song that happened to be playing was Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight". It seemed really profound at the time.
The surgery went really well. Super duper well. I came out of anesthesia like awakening from a dream, and after I sat in recovery and had some crackers and juice it was time to load up and hit the road. My experience with Dr Muskett has been fantastic, the man knows his stuff. I also have nothing but kind words to say about the very nice folks at Yellowstone Surgery Center, they are fantastic.
Today I went in to have my bandages removed, and I got to see the new size/shape. I am so happy, even though they're currently quite gross looking. They are perky, perkier than they've been since I was in high school. And so much smaller. I could put my hands under and over my breast and had tons of excess skin that my hands couldn't cover. Now my hands nearly covers the entire breast.
Holy cow, the fatigue of surgery is one that I've forgotten since my last one, which was Colter's birth in 2009. This blog was started yesterday, but between the fatigue and pain meds I had little to no ability to finish a blog post. Even now, as I type, my eyelids are drooping and I could nap. So I will.
Coming up: Thanksgiving in Casa Swan, where I don't cook or clean at all prior to the festivities so I enjoy them soaked in guilt gravy!
Admittedly, I was pretty nervous before the surgery. I tried to focus more on the excitement of being free from back pain, but the fear of pain still outweighed the excitement. In the end I just kind of had to fake my brave face and go face the proverbial bear in the face. I don't know what proverb that is from, but let's go with it. Also, that was a lot of uses of the word "face".
So the doctor came in and drew a pattern on my boobs. And by pattern I mean dress pattern. Full on darts and shit. He used a big Sir Marks A Lot and a big clear ruler, and drew lines from my collar bone to my waist. And then he pushed them up and around and over to show me what they were going to be doing. They took me into the OR after they drew all over my chest, and at one point I was so surprised that we were already ready to get started that I said through my oxygen mask "Is it go time?" which the nurses and anesthesiologist found quite funny. The other memory that I carry fondly from right before I went out like a light was that they were playing music in the OR, and the song that happened to be playing was Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight". It seemed really profound at the time.
The surgery went really well. Super duper well. I came out of anesthesia like awakening from a dream, and after I sat in recovery and had some crackers and juice it was time to load up and hit the road. My experience with Dr Muskett has been fantastic, the man knows his stuff. I also have nothing but kind words to say about the very nice folks at Yellowstone Surgery Center, they are fantastic.
Today I went in to have my bandages removed, and I got to see the new size/shape. I am so happy, even though they're currently quite gross looking. They are perky, perkier than they've been since I was in high school. And so much smaller. I could put my hands under and over my breast and had tons of excess skin that my hands couldn't cover. Now my hands nearly covers the entire breast.
Holy cow, the fatigue of surgery is one that I've forgotten since my last one, which was Colter's birth in 2009. This blog was started yesterday, but between the fatigue and pain meds I had little to no ability to finish a blog post. Even now, as I type, my eyelids are drooping and I could nap. So I will.
Coming up: Thanksgiving in Casa Swan, where I don't cook or clean at all prior to the festivities so I enjoy them soaked in guilt gravy!
Monday, November 7, 2011
Crafty Like a Fox
First off, we are almost a week away from surgery. Holy cow, how did the time pass so quickly from this to being a week away from surgery? It feels like April was 30 years ago, but in a surreal, it-only-happened-yesterday kind of way. I had planned to do a little party for myself when I was trying to get the surgery done in April, so I decided to go full-steam ahead into the idea a second time.
I happen to be of the opinion that something doesn't really happen unless you do something to document said event. Which is why I will go to my grave never having "seen" Muse in concert because we have no photographic evidence that we drove all the way to Denver to see them, apart from one photo Thad took of me drinking a michelada at the Mile High Flea Market at 10 in the morning. But damn, that thing was good, it had a spicy salt on the rim that made the world an alright place to be in. But I digress.
So if you followed the last paragraph up until I started talking about beer, I knew that I needed to do my best to make sure that if I was going to go to the trouble of throwing a party for myself I better make it the most Mary Rose-ish party there ever was. So the commemorative t-shirt was born.
So I created a tasteful, elegant shirt that indicated that this girl was out celebrating her soon-to-be freedom. It got a lot of stares, I saw a lot of people reading it that then turned to their tablemates to indicate that there was a lunatic with ginormous boobies running around The Vig with a t-shirt that said Tits Ahoy. And the rest, as they say, was history.
I posted all my party pictures on Facebook, so I don't feel a huge desire to recreate the photo sharing wheel by posting a photo blog on the event so I'm just posting the one above to really display what the shirt looked like on.
As for the party, let's just say that we had a good time. A lot of folks couldn't make it for various reasons, but the folks that did make it MADE it. My brother didn't buy me one single beer, but he did rock out 'Whiskey in a Jar' at the Play Inn. My friend Misty's fiance has the voice of an angel, the face of an Adonis, he loves her to the point where it is almost impossible not to "awwww" when they look at each other, and he introduced me to Hoegarden beer, which is exactly what I imagine the beer they crafted in "Beerfest" tastes like. And lots of old friends made it out for the final hurrah. It's amazing that I've known all the folks that came for as long as I have and that they still continue to make time for me in their lives, which is either a testament of how awesomely I pick friends, or they just found my drunken antics of 5+ years ago entertaining to keep tuning in long after motherhood called me its bitch. Either way I'd like to think to think that my rousing rendition of "Me and Bobby McGee" is enough to keep them coming back for more for years to come.
As I type this Thad is getting his stuff loaded up to head out elk hunting. I'll be hoping for a freezer full of meat, but also for my husband's safe return, I worry a little when I know I won't talk to him on a semi-regular basis. I'll be heading to Colstrip this weekend to drop off the kids with grandparents, where they will stay until after surgery. The idea of not having them close for that long is the most unbearable part of this whole procedure. I'll also get to wish one cousin a fond farewell as she departs Colstrip for the Greybull, WY, as well as meeting the newest addition to another cousin's family. Along with helping my mom fix up a playroom for the kids I have a feeling I will have plenty to keep me from dwelling on missing my kids.
I've been trying to jot down ideas for blog posts when they come to me, and I like to think I've got a few future posts planned that will be compelling and rich. I'm putting those in my pocket for the hours of boredom to come while I recover from surgery. I bet you just can't wait.
I happen to be of the opinion that something doesn't really happen unless you do something to document said event. Which is why I will go to my grave never having "seen" Muse in concert because we have no photographic evidence that we drove all the way to Denver to see them, apart from one photo Thad took of me drinking a michelada at the Mile High Flea Market at 10 in the morning. But damn, that thing was good, it had a spicy salt on the rim that made the world an alright place to be in. But I digress.
So if you followed the last paragraph up until I started talking about beer, I knew that I needed to do my best to make sure that if I was going to go to the trouble of throwing a party for myself I better make it the most Mary Rose-ish party there ever was. So the commemorative t-shirt was born.
 |
| From boobs voyage |
 |
| From boobs voyage |
 |
| From boobs voyage |
I posted all my party pictures on Facebook, so I don't feel a huge desire to recreate the photo sharing wheel by posting a photo blog on the event so I'm just posting the one above to really display what the shirt looked like on.
As for the party, let's just say that we had a good time. A lot of folks couldn't make it for various reasons, but the folks that did make it MADE it. My brother didn't buy me one single beer, but he did rock out 'Whiskey in a Jar' at the Play Inn. My friend Misty's fiance has the voice of an angel, the face of an Adonis, he loves her to the point where it is almost impossible not to "awwww" when they look at each other, and he introduced me to Hoegarden beer, which is exactly what I imagine the beer they crafted in "Beerfest" tastes like. And lots of old friends made it out for the final hurrah. It's amazing that I've known all the folks that came for as long as I have and that they still continue to make time for me in their lives, which is either a testament of how awesomely I pick friends, or they just found my drunken antics of 5+ years ago entertaining to keep tuning in long after motherhood called me its bitch. Either way I'd like to think to think that my rousing rendition of "Me and Bobby McGee" is enough to keep them coming back for more for years to come.
As I type this Thad is getting his stuff loaded up to head out elk hunting. I'll be hoping for a freezer full of meat, but also for my husband's safe return, I worry a little when I know I won't talk to him on a semi-regular basis. I'll be heading to Colstrip this weekend to drop off the kids with grandparents, where they will stay until after surgery. The idea of not having them close for that long is the most unbearable part of this whole procedure. I'll also get to wish one cousin a fond farewell as she departs Colstrip for the Greybull, WY, as well as meeting the newest addition to another cousin's family. Along with helping my mom fix up a playroom for the kids I have a feeling I will have plenty to keep me from dwelling on missing my kids.
I've been trying to jot down ideas for blog posts when they come to me, and I like to think I've got a few future posts planned that will be compelling and rich. I'm putting those in my pocket for the hours of boredom to come while I recover from surgery. I bet you just can't wait.
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