New bras and scars

That first day of the operation passed quite quickly, as the anaesthetic wore off I slept for most of the rest of the day (which wasn't very long as I was in the theatre for 5 hours), the only time I was properly awake was when I had to go the toilet. I had a drain in each of my boobs, so going to the toilet that first time was hard, i had a drain in each hand therefore no hands free. After a strange night's sleep I woke up feeling more myself.

The drains weren't so bad, except if I forgot about them the entry wounds stung like bitch! Luckily I took to the hospital treatment well and avoided moving as much as possible! My first drain was taken out just the morning after, and the second drain the morning after that.

The first time I saw them properly was when one of the nurses fitted me with a bra. There was a mirror in the fitting room and when I took my gown off and looked in the mirror it was as if I was looking at someone else's body. It just didn't look like me. I mean they still looked like my boobs but there were bits of body I hadn't seen for years! Ha;f of the skin between my belly button and underneath my boobs had been covered by boob mass for so many years, it was so surreal to look in the mirror and see these average-sized, perky breasts with normal sized nipples on my body.

They have been healing very well, they were never very bruised, just lots of yellow bruising, no massive purpleness or anything. My dressings were taken off only a week after the operation. I have dissolvable stitches with dark purple glue holding everything together. The glue falls off when the wound has healed, and now, 3 weeks on, most of the glue has fallen off. They're a bit dry and I need to moisturise them often and out stuff on the scars, but they're still a little temder, at least one is. The nipple on my left boob is still sre, and every time I brush it (you really take for granted how easily you brush your boobs against things) it makes me very aware.

Whilst there was a little bit of suffering and strangeness and sadness (part of me will miss my gigantic bosom), I'm really happy with the results. They look completely in proportion with my body shape and height (except for the massive belly I have grown since I haven't been very active for 3 weeks plus my mum's been here fattening me up!). I have already bought clothes that I would never have been bale to buy before, including shirts which button up all the way without gaping! Proper, fitted, womeny shirts, which I shall be wearing, smart ocassion or not, from now on. I have only tried on one bikini and couldn't really look past the glue sticking poking out in places so I'm going to wait a while longer before I dive into them. i think I'm going to need ones that cover up the scars properly this year, because they'll obviously still be very pronounced.

So that's that! The 2kg the surgeon removed from my chest I seem to have accumulated onto my belly, even though I think my belly is exactly the same, it's just that there isn't a massive mass of boob to draw attention away from it! It will have to go sharpish.

J and my mum have both been amazing throughout this. From the start, the first time I showed J my new boobs she said she loved them already and thought they looked perfect on me. I think her (and my mum's, but her's mainly cos I obviously want her to love them) encouragement has been a great help. If I was with someone who didn't want me to get it done then I don't think I owuld have been happy with the results, whereas now I'm excited about being naked with her again (I have to wear a sports bra for 4 - 6 weeks, no underwire, 3 down!), properly naked! I'm also excited about underwear, these support bras have left me with no cleavage which is a strange phenomenon to me.

So that's that!
Whenever I think about it, I still can't believe I've actually had it done, but I'm so glad I have, and I'm sure that in a couple of months I'll have forgotten all the negatives to it and be enjoying th benefits of a much lighter chest.

At the moment my mum and I are in Cambridge staying with my aunt (the one who I visited in Aberdeen last year). J came to stay over the weekend and it was amazing, she got on really well with my aunt and everything was great.

Next weekend we are going to London to watch Jay Z and Lily Allen (AT LAST!) at Wireless festival, and we have also found out that London Pride is on at the same time! So I'm very excited about that! I've never been to any Pride and I think London Pride would be a very good way to lose my pride virginity!

Hope you are all enjoying your summers, and prides, and thank you for keeping up with me and my inconsistent posts.

A complete change of body shape

I have wanted to write this post for weeks now, but have been a bit caught up in my mum being here, my boobs being reduced, moving to a new flat, waiting for and then receiving results.. I'll start with the boobs, which have completely overshadowed my 21st birthday (sad face) and the end of my time as an undergraduate. So I had said that I would write a blog about my breast reduction, well I was wrong. I haven't wanted to share the experience with anyone other than J and very close friends and relatives, mainly because initially it really shook me up.

At 7.15am on the 7th of June my mum, J and I arrived at the hospital. I was asked to be there for 7.30 so when I arrived and they didn't have a bed ready I thought it was fine, I'm early anyway, I can wait a little bit. Weellll we waited ages, we spent 4 hours in the day room reading magazines (I was called into the ward every now and then to talk to the anaesthesist and the surgeon, and for the surgeon to mark me up) until they called me in for surgery at around 11.30am. The surgeon had said that he would take out almost half of each breast, each one weighed about 2kg so he would take about 1kg from each. Before I went down a nurse told me that after the surgery I would be woken up in the recovery room and then brought up to the ward where there would be a space waiting for me. I went down, my mum was there, the anaesthesists (one of whom was rather fit) were talking to me, and the next thing I know I woke up in a weird room with two weird doctors jabbering and shuffling about. I hated waking up in the recovery room. There was a male doctor, who was a bit brash with me, shoved a syringe (without a needle of course) with painkillers into my mouth, half of it dribbled down my face and I obviously had no idea what was going on. Maybe it was me but I did not like that doctor, and I especially did not like waking up with no familiar faces around me, not even the fit anaesthesist's.

Anyway, they took me up to the ward and let my mum and J come and see me and I just wanted to cry! I was completely overwhelmed by it all, but at least I wasn't in any pain.

I'm going to stop there for now because this post could go on forever and I've been MIA recently on here, my excuse is we have no internet at the new flat, I've been using my blackberry for the really important things like facebook (haha) but typing long posts out is a pain in the arse on my teeny tiny keyboard.

See you soon, and more often!