What Do Shirley MacLaine and Onions Have in Common?

It's 2:30am and I'm awake in our guest room watching Netflix movies on my Kindle. I haven't moved back into the master bedroom yet as I'm still sore and my husband is a heavy sleeper and a pretty big guy. It would be fairly easy for him to elbow me in the chest or roll on me accidentally.

Today was a good day. I saw my PS and he was pretty pleased with my progress. **Graphic Alert** If you're squeamish, skip this paragraph. :) The dark/black scab on both my nipples had come off to reveal fresh pink skin! My PS was extremely happy to see this and it made me wonder if he had some real worries about my nipples surviving. That's okay though because it looks like the headlights are in the clear! What a relief...I was fairly confident my nipples wouldn't fall off or anything but I was a little worried they might stay that blackish color. Nothing says sexy like necrosis in your nipple skin.

Seeing how well things were healing and the low output of fluids from my drains on my chart... Wait I really have to touch on this because Josh, my husband, deserves some recognition. He's just so cute. God bless him, he was charting my output on this excel spreadsheet he made. It had all sorts of formulas and averages and a line graph. Yes, a line graph. For my first follow-up appointment he sent me with a print out of this spreadsheet and it had different numbers on them and my breast surgeon just seemed confused. She just wanted the daily output. When I came home, Josh was anxiously awaiting to see how well received his spreadsheet was. When I told him that he probably needed to simplify it, he seemed disappointed. So he pared it down but still included the line graph. Well this time, my PS saw the print out and was really impressed. His words were "Woah! This is so Silicon Valley." I reported this to hubby. Hubby = Happy. Anyway, PS decided it was time to take out my drains, HALLELUJAH!!! AND, wait for it folks... I also get a fill!

Dr. Jacobs removes the first drain tube and it doesn't hurt a bit. I couldn't really see him pulling them out, but my sister L (who played chauffeur all day, I love her) was watching. I told her the second one hurt a bit. It felt like tape being ripped off of my skin. She informed me later that it was indeed, tape being ripped off my skin. :) The tape holding my drain in place was being stubborn so the doc had to tug quite a bit at the tape. Apparently the drain being pulled out didn't actually hurt. Haha!

Next came the fill. For those of you unfamiliar, I have a mostly empty expander in each breast. Sort of like an empty implant except this implant has a magnetic port on it. So the nurse runs a magnet over my chest until she finds the ports for each expander. She marks both sides with a marker and then injects me with this...EPIC FREAKING NEEDLE. It was HUGE... I'm not exaggerating. That bugger looked like the fake ones you buy at Halloween to go with your Sexy Nurse costume. I was relieved to find out it didn't hurt going in.

So, what do Shirley MacLaine and onions have in common? They make both make me cry like a baby. This whole process has sort of felt like a backwards boob job. I haven't felt like I've dodged any bullets or I was rescuing my body from my evil killer breasts. My pathology report came back negative. I guess it's been hard to really relate all this to the big C word, because well, I don't have it. So tonight Netflix recommends Terms of Endearment for me. WHY DID I NOT READ THE DESCRIPTION? By the end of the movie I'm crying buckets, full on bawling. Then it hits me. THIS is why I went through all of this. Not to get a breast augmentation. Not to get 4 weeks off of work. Not to get Vicodin. (That stuff is all kind of fun though, no lies). I did this so my mom doesn't have to bury her child, so my husband doesn't become a widower, so my best friends don't have to comfort my future children. I cry as write this. For the first time I feel like I've come out on the other side, somewhat in control of my destiny and of my health. I'm a fighter and I give myself a little pat on the back. You done good Rosanna.

<3