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I have had a very rough 48 hours. Luckily . I HAVE A VERY GOOD Dr. And an equally amazing husband and surgical team.
Jan 4th Matthew and I flew out of Kalispell to chicago.
We got our hotel and I set everything up I could. I read so many amazing stories about women having perfect implant removals with barely even a bit of pain. These women proudly proclaimed they only took tylenol and no pain killers. Of course I was expecting to be the same way! I am a badass. Right??
I hit the gym for the last time…I had been working out hard to prep my body for being a month long slug.
Jan 5th was my preop. The husband of the fucking year came with me. He wanted to hear everything, how to care for me, surgical info, the works. I was scared, but SO excited for this to end. Years of pain. Deformity…and fear. Get em out! I did learn I’d have more scars than originally planned with a lollipop shape, but I digested it quickly and accepted it. My doctor does beautiful work with explants and I was excited.
I had so much fear….
Jan 6th I awoke at 4am to make it to surgery by 7:30 am . I was scared beyond anything. I fear going under so badly. In fact, it’s my number one fear in life….that I will wink out of existence. They gave me some happy juice so I would calm down a bit before wheeling me in. . Like many before me…I dont remember jack shit! Well, I do remember telling someone I sell Avon and left entertainment because they’re all buttholes. That’s it.
Of course, it was over quickly for me…but about 4 hours of waiting for my husband. He met me in my hospital room. Due to my history of the worst luck on earth, I didnt want to chance NOT being at the ER So I paid a night out of pocket. I went back and forth on this decision. If so many women were virtually pain free, wouldnt I be after getting it done?? Should I waste over 600 dollars on a room when I have read so many stories of perfect warrior women doing cartwheels around their jobs and kids after an explant? I was questioned why I wasn going back to my hometown to heal, the works. I know my body. I don’t heal well, anything bad that could happen? Well, it usually happens to me.
The worst was over. My fear of being out under behind me. Now, it was time to heal! That is when the pain started. My husband was amazing, helping me drink and eat. However, I wondered why I was hurting so bad when so many other women proclaimed how easy it all was. I wondered if I was just a wuss.
Dr. Mussat sent me pictures of what she took out of me. My right implant? Fully ruptured leaking silicone in my body for god knows how long. It was also a very different color than the other. People used to not believe me when I told em I got implants for a size difference, so look at these and eat shit, assholes!
I was so happy to have some gross toxic sack leaking in my body taken out. Yet, my pain got worse. My chest swelled so badly, you cant see my clavicle. My hands and fingers looked like sausages. My eyes, cheeks, everything was swelling.
I worried people were thinking I was being a diva. I felt embarrassed everytime I’d hiss in pain or hit the nurse button. The nurse shift changed and I got a nurse named Eileen. She got it. She walked into me weeping and moaning, I couldnt gloss over it anymore, I was in agony. She pumped me full of pain meds to get some relief. Dr. Mussat came in to see how I was doing and inmediately shook her head. I had a hematoma so big it looked like I got only one fake titty! Oddly, it was in the boob she did the least work on…the one that wasnt ruptured. Hematomas happen. It’s not the fault of anyone or anything but my own body’s response to trama. Of course, NO LUCK ME not only had insurance deny my surgery…for getting rid of my titty that had popped and oozed inside me…AND I needed two surgeries in a day!! I tried to negotiate NOT going to surgery again with the Dr. Good ole drugged up me….luckily, she was having none of it. My nurse was so empathetic and kind, she was exactly what I needed. Combined with my husband and my Doctor, I felt people gave a shit and that it was ok from me to admit I was hurting. I was, I mean, that hurt more than both boob jobs and the myomectomy I had in my past.
Emergency surgery. No waiting….right now. Talk about being scared shitless! I just wept and cried. Why is my body always such a dick with everything!?!? Matthew was there every moment comforting me. I know he was aware of how afraid I was of a complication and here it was. I wanted it all to just be over. Now I was going in not even 8 hours later for more surgery. A night crew was being assembled to cut me open again. I had eaten…drank tons of fluids. I thought they’d have to wait. Urgent…no waiting. I had an all woman team which made me happy. My anesthesiologist from that morning was back. She gave me a shot of what tasted like sour patch kids without sugar. Yuck! I guess it was to keep me from puking and drowning. My mother in-law, a nurse of over 40 years, said it was no wonder I was in so much pain. I had a hematoma the size of a double D tit! She also explained to matthew that this just happens with the human body sometimes. Matt tried to hand me the phone, but just hearing her voice sent me weeping and I waved it away. I had no desire to cry with my chest hurting that badly. I had a huge feeling I should stay overnight in the ER. I felt it in my gut and it most likely saved my titty. Also, Dr. Mussat being so attentive certainly didnt hurt! I cant express how happy I am that I picked her.
The anesthesiologist explained to me since I had just been under, eating and drinking AND on drugs, she could not sedate me prior to wheeling me in. Surgery number two would require me to lay myself down sober and aware on my operating table. I wont lie, that wasnt my favorite experience. They’d knock me out quickly and for as little time as possible because it isnt the best for your body to go through twice in a short time.
Meanwhile, my husband is being a BOSS. Doting on me, worried, up since 4 am.(it was now 10)..the poor guy. I was at least out half the day! Since no one gets 10pm surgeries, he was allowed in the pre and post op room to wait for me. He kept in contact with my Ma and Dad which I asked him to do. Both would trickle down the information to people in my family. I cant fathom how he was feeling, watching me go in to number 2. If the roles were switched I’d be beside myself! The doctor and nurses let him touch my face and talk to me up till they wheeled me back to hop on the table. I remember battling the anesthesia cause I am claustrophobic and didnt want the mask on my face. Let me just say again how great it was to have a team of women. Truly. Talk about empathy and compassion.
When I awoke, there was Matt. I felt so beaten up physically, but he pushed himself to the point of delirium to make sure I was ok. They wheeled me back up to my room and gave him a chair to sleep in suitable for someone who is 5’2. I’d post a pic of how pathetic a 6’6 behemoth looks sleeping in a chair made for ants, but he’d kill me. (Edited note…permission granted)
All night, any moan or groan, hed awake and try to help me. It is currently 4:30 in the morning and I am too sore to sleep. My throat feels ravaged by tubes…I’m swollen from my hips to my shoulders..and bruising is starting too. I have drains for 5 days. I left the hospital immediately. They expected me to stay another 3 to 4 hours. NOPE! I was DONE.
I am so happy to have that leaking sack of yellowed silicone taken out of my body. I will be interested in any of my mystery illnesses clear up. found Dr. Mussat via searching reviews and realself.com she is superb and does not mess around when something is deemed necessary. There are support groups touting “doctor lists” please take that lightly and with suspicion. No one who runs these explant groups are medically trained and the bias opinions of others should never form YOUR choice. I say avoid them (support groups pushing doctors) and stick with review sites. People are wack jobs.
Now, I rest and I heal. Mussat had to remove some of my bigger boob to even them out due to the scar tissue she took from my right. I am guessing I will be flat as a pancake. Surgery for “looking hot” is fucking stupid! The risks and complications that can come with each one seem to be ignored by the next Brazilian buttlift patient. I am very interested in how I will feel now that I dont have silicone spilling around my heart and lungs. I am beyond grateful for my doctor, nurses and anesthesiologist for making sure I was ok…and doing what they had to do to ensure that no matter the time.
Now….anyone who wants to get a hold of me, buy Avon. Anything…just….
For a little bit, at least….