Hallie came home three days for spring break and ended up getting to stay home almost 4 1/2 months. What an unexpected gift. The gift of slowing down and being back together again.
It was crazy it took a pandemic to do that. As the cases are soaring, and everyone's anxiety level is creeping up, I just want to bring you into my little bit of crazy that has happened at my house.
I try to be transparent now, as a time in my life, I hid my whole life from everyone and made some pretty messed up choices. Good things came out of those messed up choices, so I don't regret the decision.....but now I choose to live transparent. Everyday.
When Kip was just a year old, and I had breastfed her for almost the whole year, I found myself woefully "unendowed" at the end of the breastfeeding journey. Back in 1989, Pamela Lee Anderson was running down the beach, all endowed and beautiful, and several of my friends were getting implants, and made it seem like a "no big deal- high reward" type deal. A co-worker had them put in on Friday and was back to work on Monday like "look at me", so I jumped on the bandwagon. In 1989, in Norman I had a plastic surgeon put two polyurethane silicone breast implants into my body and finally had boobs for the first time in my life.
I even remember when the doctor talked about them, he said "In 30 years you will probably have to have them replaced" and I foolishly said, (and I remember this) "I will deal with it when I'm 59". How damn dumb. I mean. I could say a LOT to my 29 year old self these days, for sure. And I'm pretty sure I would't listen any better to my 59 year old self than I did to anyone else, but for the love.
I was one of the lucky ones. A girlfriend that had them put in same time as me, had to have her implants removed within two years, due to immediately showing signs of lupus and rheumatoid arthritis. Didn't even faze me. Didn't even make me think about it... I wasn't having problems, why should that affect me in any way?
Fast forward to 2011. My doctor has long been out of the picture and I've ran in and out of another plastic surgeons office every 5 years or so for my "followup" and this time, I'm starting to have joint pain. I ask the PS about removing them and just being a tiny chest for the rest of my life, and he told me "I wouldn't ever deform you in that way. the only way I take them out, if is I put them right back in". So, dream squashed.
Over the next few years, I start having health issues, nothing anything any doctor can tie to, just random, odd things. I don't connect the dots...... at all.
Then this past March, a friend posts on facebook for prayers and me being the nosy nelly that I am, private messages her and asks whats happening. She tells me she has BII (Breast Implant Illness) and is going in to get her implants removed and can hardly wait. I can hardly believe what I am hearing because a) I've been in denial for so long b) a PS will actually TAKE THEM OUT? She sends me tons of information and puts me on a facebook page, and lo and behold after two solid hours on this page and reading hundreds of posts from ladies experiencing EVERy SINGLE WEIRDO symptom that I have struggled with for the last 8 years.....I just cry.
I didn't think I was ever going to feel good again. I just figured this was how life turns out and I was old and that we just had to live with what we were given.
I make an appointment with her doctor and go in for a consultation, and the weirdest thing is, I never have money. I mean...I have a zillion kids and they are all at home right now and eating their weight in food and drink daily, so money isn't high on my list of things I have. Right before I go to see this doctor, two very important things happened....and I had EXACTLY the amount of money I needed to have to have this surgery done. THE EXACT AMOUNT
God is Good.
I had heard it would take months for him to get me on his schedule because of the enormous amount of women flocking to his office now, seeking relief, and to my utter amazement (except not really, God was so involved) he had time for me 3 weeks after my initial consult. I scheduled my surgery and went home to wait. I prayed over all the kids daily to keep Covid at bay. Hallie is still at home, and I'm praying she can stay and help me recuperate, but last minute changes have her heading out the day before I am to go. Then Jackson comes down with Hand Foot and Mouth (An entire other blog in itself) so now Lacey is going to be unable to go with me to the surgery. Because I have an incredible village, my friend Kim Daniels hears what is going on and just volunteers on the spot to be my wingman. I encourage her to remember that even on my best of sober days, I can embarrass all of us in a single leap, and under anesthesia, all bets are off, and this still doesn't deter her in any way. She grabs me from my house, drives me to the hospital, keeps me entertained with her stories and before I know it, the doc has me standing in front of him, writing all over me with sharpies, and I'm being wheeled into the operating room. One of the nurses leaned over and grabbed my hand and said, "I had mine out 8 years ago, and it was the best decision of my life". I count backwards and then wake up in the recovery room where I scream about body parts feeling on fire and throw up in a bag without ceasing. Found out the dinosaurs in my body, the right one had ruptured. Kim had decided mid scream she would probably need to stay and help the vietnamese with their loopy mom, and seriously, don't know what I would have done without her. She was the best thing in the world. I was one sick mamba jamba. Took 12 1/2 hours for the best part of the anesthesia to wear off, and I was throwing up most of that. Terrible headache, but upside, no incision pain at all. No pain meds, period.
Another moment to be noted, my neck can get in a twisted mess in a hurry and make me sick too, so my masseuse loaded up his chair and drove to Shawnee and worked my neck out for me. Such Good. People.
Found out Friday that Gina had been directly exposed to Covid-19, so we all quarantined in our rooms over the weekend. Due to that fact, Hallie was sent home on Saturday for another week. We waited until this morning and Gina and Hallie both went to get tested, and their rapid tests came back negative. PRAISE GOD. Hallie had the antibody test ran as well, so we will know tomorrow those results.
So, now she is here to help me navigate the drains coming out my body (Thank the Lord, she loves that kind of stuff, me? Not so much) and hopefully after my one week check in tomorrow, the doctor will see I am doing so great he will let me come in by the end of the week and get rid of these pesky, gross me out, drains.
So, why am I sharing all of this? Because I know you ALL know someone that has implants. In the late 80's through now, soooooooo many women think this is something that isn't GOING TO AFFECT Them at ALL and I'm here to tell you....IT IS.
Breast Implant Illness is real and alive and kicking. I was so relieved to read the symptoms and realize I wasn't going crazy.
I feel good. I haven't had pain meds since the hospital scream LOL, I'm controlling with tylenol. Things I noticed right away was all the neuropathy in my feet and hands that I feel at night is gone. G O N E. After my initial neck pain (that my masseuse helped with), even propped up in a horrendous position, my neck pain is decreased. I expect more things to resolve and I am so thankful that FINALLY a plastic surgeon said These Things are making women sick, and I will take them out of their bodies and not require them to put them back in.
SO THANKFUL. It's not all in your head....it's in your chest, and it's making you sick.
Friends don't let friends get breast implants.
They just don't.
