February 9, 2023

Well, today was my appointment with my new plastic surgeon. It was the one day in our week where the weather was bad—a mix of rain and snow. His office called me to offer an alternative appointment next week, but I didn’t want to postpone, and I’m glad I didn’t. It sounds like I’m in for another long haul.

I have a couple of options but both entail multiple surgeries. One would use skin and fat from my stomach, the other would use skin and muscle from my back. Both have long recovery times—6 to 8 weeks—and would require hospital stays of 2-4 days. And I wouldn’t be able to get scheduled until several months from now. He also suggested I either have my ovaries taken out ahead of time, or wait until my second surgery with him.

I left feeling like I wanted to cry, mostly from the exhaustion of knowing I’m starting over again. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t multiple surgeries.

On the upside, this doctor has done thousands of the option I’m leaning towards and even teaches at a university hospital, so I feel confident about his ability; I could get rid of the implants; I don’t need to worry about losing weight because he’ll use the fat for the surgery (more fat = bigger my boobs); I’ll essentially get a tummy tuck; and I have options when I was worried I might not. I’m thankful for the upsides.

I recently wrote this poem, and it sums up my feelings today. I’m going to leave this here, and then I’m going to focus on the positives.

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