New Equipment

Over the last year many of you have asked about my new equipment.  More specifically, my new boobs.  Whether it be morbid curiosity, because they are boobs, or maybe one day you may be faced with same choice.  Here are my observations on adjusting to my new lovely-jubblys.  Let me just put one myth to bed from the start, it is nothing like a regular boob job.  The procedure, recovery and end result are completely different.

Bruised & battered

Three days after surgery, after I had peeled myself off the bathroom floor in the hospital (you need to see a previous post for that story), with trepidation I removed my top and saw two bruised and battered mounds taped up and vacuum packed rather like a joint of meat from the butcher.  Someone had squeezed some playdoh roughly into shape, complete with finger-divets, and plonked them roughly in place.  Like a horrific car crash, you don’t want to look but can’t stop staring. Tears rolled down my cheeks….

We became friends

Today my relationship with these playdoh mounds is more than amicable, and in fact we have probably entered the friend’s zone.  The vacuum-packed twins have evolved into a kind of lumpy existence.  I was blessed that I could keep my nipples, many are not so lucky, either where the cancer maybe residing does not allow or the surgeon does not offer this option.  I have one scar under each knocker where the surgeon removed my original breast tissue then stuffed in a saline jellyfish and sewed it under my chest muscle.  The procedure becomes more invasive with bigger mammaries.  First they cut under the cup, then up to and around the nipple.  A fellow patient, who parted ways with her nipples, describes them as mannequin boobs!  So again, I was lucky as I ended up with minimal scarring.

To sense no feeling

However to access and remove 3 of my lymph nodes, a nerve had to be cut, resulting in permanent pins and needles down my left arm.  Soon after surgery I had intense physio to reduce the cording effect.  This is when scar tissue forms, like a guitar string and reduces mobility.  So at one point I couldn’t lift my left arm above my head completely.

I have absolutely no sensation on or around my new fun-bags.  Occasionally I bump into things and cannot feel it at all.  This is a primary reason why many chose to only remove one – I don’t need to tell you the reasons why here!  The nearest I get to feeling anything is a deep aching from scar tissue that has formed where the new puppies are attached to my chest muscle.

Who needs enemies when you have friends like this

By far the biggest adjustment is movement.  To be frank, they don’t! No bouncing, no jiggling, no wobbling.  They are stuck to my body, I could swing from a tree, jog on the spot or sit in a blender and they would stay in the same position.  Running took some adjusting to.  This sounds like a significant advantage, which could be argued is the case when you consider lying down with normal knockers that become armpit lovers.  But consider this, I can no longer create a cleavage (that’s right boys, natural hooters don’t have a cleavage unless accompanied by intense scaffolding or are ridiculously large).  So now I have turned into some sort of perv, checking out other girls racks.  The reality is, I miss my old wobbly numa-nums, but seeing as they tried to kill me, we had to part ways.

xxx