Just the Facts: It has been 8 days since my Exchange Surgery.  Tomorrow I will see my plastic surgeon for the first time since surgery and the bandages will be removed.  I have had a more difficult time recovering from anesthesia this time and more pain than expected but I’m beginning to feel much more like myself now.

Details: My tissue expander-to-breast implant “exchange” surgery for breast reconstruction was August 31.  The last 8 days are truly a blur.  I have literally been dizzy and groggy most of the this time. I am not sure why recovering from general anesthesia has been worse for me this time but I’ll blame it on the tamoxifen I’m taking.  (Why not? I blame everything else that goes awry on the tamox.  It’s convenient, if nothing else.) Today is really the first day that I haven’t felt like someone played games with my brain that zapped upwards of 20 points from my IQ.  ( I only feel about 10 IQ points down today.  ;-) )

Here’s another thing that has happened in these post-anesthesia days, and after other surgeries in the past.  This takes courage to say.  It doesn’t matter how much better off I am for having done whatever I did, or surviving what I survived, but after surgery, I get blue.  Maybe you could go so far as to say: slightly depressed.  I know I have been through a lot lately and it’s probably understandable even without the surgery, but the logical side of my brain is quite annoyed with all these emotions.  After all, I have attacked and I like to believe, conquered cancer.  I have muddled through a summer of the dreadful process of tissue expansion, and FINALLY, had the second and last stage of surgery for reconstruction, with the sole purpose of improving the way I look.  I should be THRILLED.  Meh.  Instead, I am teary and blue, and can find little to be happy about. At least I know this will pass.  I can’t wait.  This is stupid.

So tomorrow, my most-excellent plastic surgeon will remove the bandages to reveal the (almost) final product.  There is still some swelling, and I believe that the implants will still “settle” a bit more, so what we will see is still only “close” to final. But I can tell already that things are MUCH improved.  I can’t wait to hear what the doctor has to say because honestly it’s tough for me to judge.  I see some imperfections, but hey, all in all, what they are able to do is pretty incredible.  :-)

There will be a tense moment for me when the the bandages are removed and once again, the scars are revealed. It shouldn’t be that way, I suppose.  When the bandages were removed revealing the scars for the first time a few months ago I was a bit unprepared.  It was dramatic.  Maybe even breath-taking, in not-such-a-good way. But the scars are just reminders of what I’ve survived (by God’s grace), and the ways I have been blessed.  They have been a part of me since April 6 and have only been hidden 8 days. I don’t know why I feel even the least bit apprehensive about seeing them for the first time again.

Today I got a manicure and pedicure.  Yeah, it’s fun.  But when I walk out of the nail salon I feel all girly and pretty: a boost to my self-image.  Boy, do I need it.  The mastectomy surgery saved my life but was also a mental blow.  Afterwards, I suddenly felt sort of un-feminine.  Since then I’ve been consciously and unconsciously searching for ways to fill that loss.   I have grown my hair to the longest length it has been since childhood.  My wardrobe now includes skirts and dresses, of all things.  And the nail salon trips: oh, yes.  It should begin to improve now.  Thank goodness — my bank account needs a break.

So, mid-morning tomorrow I get the full view.  The doc will reveal the breasts he built me.  I’m going to do my best to make sure the “blue” me stays home and the happy, girly me is the one who shows up in the doctor’s office.  Maybe afterwards, the blue one will leave for good.