20
Sep
07

September 20, 2007

I realized tonight that I had forgotten to confirm previously that my surgery date is officially set for September 28 – it’s at 2:00 p.m. at Providence St. Vincent’s Medical Center. I have to be there by 10:30 in the morning – not too bad, unlike some poor souls who have early surgeries and have to be there by 5 a.m. I’d never make it!

We met with the plastic surgeon today, and after discussing the various options, I made my choice. He confirmed that my concerns about taking abdominal muscle (along with tissue and skin) to do the reconstruction was likely to weaken the remaining muscle enough that it would probably exacerbate my occasional back problems, and he also said that some women tend to have problems even getting out of chairs afterwards. As well, once you go that route, you are stuck with it, good or bad. So implants it is!

I caught myself being rather vain about a couple of things as we talked to him. I know, I know, how can someone who doesn’t wear make-up, who doesn’t dye her hair, who wears jeans and t-shirts to everything but weddings and funerals, and who blow-dries her hair by putting the top down on her convertible, be vain? Well, I insisted that I wanted to be the same size as I am now – I mean, logically, I’d probably be better off having at least some reduction to prevent upper back problems as I age, but no, that just isn’t even a possibility. Why? Maybe just so that I can avoid the inevitable pear shape a little while longer; or because I’m used to the weight and dimensions; or because I’d miss being embarrassed when I spill food there instead of on my lap while eating (I think Brian, who has to deal with the stains in the laundry, may have taken the doctor aside and asked how much it would be to just forget about the reconstruction – jeans don’t show stains as well . . .).

The second instance is just as silly – I quizzed him mercilessly about scars. Where, how many, will they fade, will they stretch, etc., etc., etc. I mean, come on! Even if he does the most fabulous job of reconstruction, I’m not planning on posing for Playboy – Brian and various doctors are pretty much the only ones who are going to see the finished product, so why should I care?

I’m not even really worried about losing my hair – I think it might be kind of fun to have my skull painted or henna tatoos put on it for the duration. So what’s the big deal about scars? Vanity, pure and simple. I guess everyone has their little vain streak – frankly, I’d have been happy never to have discovered this one ;-}

I’m debating participating in the “Race for the Cure” this weekend, but even for the walk (rather than the run) I would have to be downtown around 8 a.m. on Sunday. So I think I’ll do the “Sleep In for the Cure” – that is definitely within my usual weekend morning routine. Thanks to those who are listing me on their “In Celebration” lists!

Julie

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