Know Thyself

I did not and I now (shockingly) regret it.  Actually, I lie.  I did know myself, knew all too well, and thought somehow I could sweet talk myself into changing.  Guess what?

It didn't work.

Three weeks ago tomorrow I had the implant exchange and the nip/tuck/addition on the left side. I have always been a teeny-tiny bit lopsided.  Nothing huge, nothing worth worrying about until the November 11 surgery altered the state of my right breast (lift included).  Dr. X had offered that a very small implant could be put in on the left side as well as a bit of mastopexy. Mastopexy, if you prefer not to click through, can make one look like they did when they were 16.  Or, in my case, what one might have wanted to look like when they were 16.   When I finally reviewed the surgical results 3 days later, I thought everything looked….like it should?   However, during the past two weeks I have come to the conclusion that maybe I rushed things just a tad.

Perhaps I wasn't far enough along in my other recovery.  Perhaps I simply needed more time to adjust to the first surgery (emotional adjustment: don't get me started).  Either way, the more time that passed, the unhappier I was with the results of the implant exchange.  I thought it would be a piece of cake, and instead recovery was thwarted by the hospital, Nosey Nurse and the fact that I believed the doctor when he told me one week was plenty of time for recovery.

One week was not nearly enough. I spent the second week (from the day after the snowstorm until last Thursday) a giant mess.  I was exhausted and cranky.  I went from thinking the surgery was ideal to thinking that I was a complete nut job for going under the knife again.  Everything I touched seemed to fall apart and due to my exhaustion, had possibly the worst parenting week of my life.  Think you've ever screwed things up? Nope, no one can touch my week last week.  Absolutely horrific.  I should have spent the second week resting and recovering, and instead, I jumped back into the fray way too soon and it bit me…hard.  Take note, anyone considering anything similar:  take whatever your doctor states as an adequate recovery time and multiply it times two….then rest and relax.

Last weekend finally rolled around, and we were without the kids for 28 hours or so.  The Salty Dogs thoughtfully volunteered to entertain them from Saturday afternoon through Sunday evening.  We enjoyed date night, complete with dinner and a movie.  We missed the kids, but suddenly it was as though my guilt about the surgery had lifted.  I no longer felt like a bad mom or as though I was unnaturally altering my body.

Sunday arrived and we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and grocery shopping trip in Arlington.  After prepping our 'healthy' chili for our friends Superbowl festivities, we had a muddy, but much needed nature hike in the woods near our house.  All was well until later in the evening.  Cait, Kelsey and Nicholas arrived at home, we came home from the party and suddenly the guilt hit again.

I realized the next day that I had not looked in the mirror for several days.  I could barely manage any MLD, much less the scar massage that I should be doing on a daily basis.   My poor chest.  Neither side looked great and not only was my right side tortured twice, but the left breast almost seemed worse. Nothing was necessary and yet I tortured that side needlessly.

Now I am nearly three weeks out, still filled with occasional pain and numbness (now on both sides) and more frequently with huge amounts of regret.  I have realized that this entire journey seems to be one of regrets.  I can't seem to make any decision without turning around a week or two later and wondering why on earth I did that.

I know I might seem crazy or ungrateful.  However, in this sort of scenario, what is nuts to one person is completely rational to the next.  I thought that perhaps by going with the flow and taking what was offered, it could somehow numb the pain of November.  Unfortunately, for me, it didn't do a thing.  In fact, I am not sure it didn't make things worse.

I truly hope no one reading this ends up in a similar position.  It is not enviable or fun.  The decisions are endless, and in my case, the regrets numerous.  I would give up almost anything to have my pre-October 8th life back.

If you do find yourself making such decisions, ensure that you truly know what you would want.  I thought I did or that perhaps I could convince myself that finally there was some sort of light at the end of the tunnel.  Unfortunately, I forgot that having the extra bit of work done would be just yet another reminder of the entire tunnel experience…one, in many respects, I truly wish I could forget. Not everything, but the surgeries, the pain, the scarring…I wouldn't miss any of them one bit. 

Should curiosity have struck, yes, this means the final reconstruction is seriously being reconsidered.  If I can't handle an implant exchange and nip/tuck, I don't think running head-long into a major reconstruction is a fantabulous idea.  I suppose I could change my mind eventually, but right now I feel I have made enough poor decisions and will let this one sit on the back burner for the foreseeable future.

If only foresight was 20/20…