I asked him to blow on those two little white resin squares for luck, closed my eyes, said a silent prayer and rolled those dice. And what do you know, it appeared my persistence and innate intuition had finally paid off. Seven glorious black dots revealed themselves. Did I win cash money? A new car? A 8-day, 7-night luxury vacation? Nope. Even better. I won NEW BOOBS!! We are going to New Orleans, baby!
When I last left you, I had met with five(!) local surgeons, only one of which was willing to help me. But two weeks before my scheduled surgery, I discovered that was no longer the case. When I told him at that pre-op appointment that I’d had a lot of time to soul search since we had met last December and scheduled my hybrid DIEP flap/implants surgery, and I had decided that I actually didn’t want to do the hybrid surgery (just do the DIEP without implants). I didn’t realize exactly what that meant for him on his end.
Because he doesn’t just do breast surgeries (and when he does, 9 times out of 10, it’s implant-only reconstruction, not DIEP or hybrid), it was his opinion that w/out implants, I’d be basically “pre-pubescent”. When I brought up that some doctors do four-flap surgery (ie. taking fat and tissue from “four” donor sites like abdomen (counts as 2 flaps) and upper glutes or upper thighs (also count as 2), he was concerned because it would mean a much longer surgery (like 15+hrs) and that they’d have to bring in a third surgeon to help. He said he doesn’t do them because he thinks they’re extraordinarily hard on the patient, as well.
He was clearly uncomfortable with this new plan and I was uncomfortable with his uncomfortableness, so the decision was mutually made to put the surgery on hold until I basically “came to my senses”. While he didn’t say those specific words, I definitely felt he was thinking them. He was a completely different surgeon than I had met w/ several months earlier. After he suggested that he and his colleagues “make fun” of those surgeons who do four flap procedures (what?!) when they go to medical conferences, I knew I would most definitely not be using him. (To be fair, it’s highly likely he was having a very bad day too, as he was well over an hour late seeing me AND they had already moved my appointment UP six hours the day before! But still.)
While I felt terrible that I hadn’t shared my desire sooner, I truly hadn’t realized it would be THAT MUCH of a bigger deal. Especially since I had understood from others that you can do so much with fat transfers – sometimes adding a whole cup size using fat from another area of the body after the initial DIEP surgery. He agreed that sometimes that’s definitely true, but it was pretty clear he had already made up his mind that he would not be doing my surgery in his mind, as well.
So, as you know by now, I did not have the surgery in April as planned, which meant I was back to the drawing board. I can’t tell you how disappointing that was. To already be prepared, both emotionally and logistically for major surgery in April, well…it didn’t feel great to be back in micro-surgeon search mode. (Too bad that’s not an app!)
I knew now that my only hope would be to go out of state to a surgeon who performs these type of complicated procedures on a more routine basis. That meant two practices in particular – a cosmetic surgery group in San Antonio who is renowned by women whose opinion I greatly respect, for their tissue flap reconstructions and of course, the Center for Breast Reconstruction in New Orleans I mentioned previously.
I submitted patient consultation forms and uploaded my nearly naked photos on their secure servers to both in hopes that one of them would be able to help. (Seeing those photos (shudder) greatly re-enforced my belief that I just HAD TO have enough fat and tissue in my belly, or thighs or butt, to donate to my poor, sad chest.)
First up was PRMA, and the doctor they assigned me agreed that it looked like I had enough fat & tissue for autologous reconstruction! But I wanted to meet him, even if it was virtual, and they wanted to be able to see more, too – have me grab my belly to see how much I could squeeze and see how said fat moved, etc. Basically a virtual 360. Let’s hope Skype is not snooping on video calls like Facebook & Google probably are! (Shudder.)
Well, what do you know, very quickly into our consultation call with him and his nurse, he had bad news for us after seeing me “in person”. He felt I actually didn’t have enough for them to work with and that they were sorry, but suggested that I contact the breast center in New Orleans. Thankfully, I already had a call set up with their patient coordinator. It was disappointing, of course, but at least now I knew what my options were. My only option: The Center for Breast Reconstruction in New Orleans.
Now, you never have to twist our arms to get us to go back to what everyone likely knows by now is our favorite city, but I was still filled with a bit of trepidation. If this doctor couldn’t help me either (just like the previous 6), I’d officially and very disappointedly be shit outta luck AND I’d once again need to make some tough decisions. Not nearly as tough as the first one that started me on this whole journey, but tough nonetheless.
Would I keep the status quo for now and keep these dreadful, uncomfortable water balloons, would I say EF it and have them completely removed and have a flat (possibly concave) chest or would I go down the middle road and accept the risk of having breast implants with the knowledge that they could make me sick one day and just do the damn hybrid surgery? Just two months ago, the FDA issued a press release stating that while they didn’t feel there were adequate scientific studies yet pointing to breast implants as the cause as to why some women get sick, they issued a warming that when some women who experience “systemic symptoms” had theirs removed, many of their symptoms went away. Hopefully more large scale studies will be forthcoming.
Before learning the results of my photo review, though I’d need to first discuss my case with the Center’s patient educator and for a change, this call went very well. In addition to the “normal” questions of what I didn’t like about my current reconstruction, what I was looking for, etc., she even asked me about my hobbies!? She said they know they are often the last hope for many women who’ve been told that they don’t have enough fat & tissue to make real, soft, warm breasts.
She patiently answered all my questions (she’s been with them for over 20 years when she left her previous practice because she was so inspired by what the surgeons were doing and their mission to provide every woman the optimal reconstruction she desires) and promised they’d be in touch within a few days with the doctor’s review. First though, they wanted a few more photo angles of me to view so out came the camera again.
After once again uploading my not-ready-for-playboy photos (shudder) as promised, she wrote with truly wonderful news. It must really be true that the camera adds 10 lbs because the review came back – they could definitely do a DIEP flap AND keep me at my current size, WITHOUT implants!! We were super encouraged by this news, but knew especially based on my previous video review w/ the doctor in San Antonio, photos were not the be all end all decider for me.
This time, I wasn’t taking any chances. I wanted to be extra sure and I wanted the surgeon to see me live and in person. Just. In. Case. So a few weeks ago, we took the opportunity to make a last minute, quick trip down to NOLA and as an added bonus, I’d get to celebrate my birthday while we were there. Couldn’t have been more perfect, especially since I was still in adding pounds mode!
And then, as if I needed further confirmation that I was (finally) on the right path, a few days after my photo review results came in, I received a brochure from the center with a handwritten note from their educator thanking me for considering them for my breast surgery. Thanking me! Needless to say, the tears that welled in my eyes promised that I had made the right decision to consider the Center for my reconstruction.
Now, if you know me and know how much I like to research, you know I scoured their website and all the information they had online, as well as their doctors’ bios and their FAQ of what to expect. But, I still wasn’t quite prepared for what a truly different experience this consultation would be.
Instead of meeting in the examination room, we met the doctor in a small conference room and he was so warm and kind, that we were immediately put at ease. He not only talked with me about my previous surgeries and what I was looking for, he explained the DIEP procedure, complete with sketches better than any of the other surgeons we had seen in Colorado. Hell, he actually really EXPLAINED IT! Kind of shocking that he was really the first to do that. It continued uphill from there – after answering our questions and discussing any concerns we had, his kind nurse led us back to an examination room.
I’m not sure I’d call it an exam room though as it most certainly did not look like a room in a doctors office, but rather a freakin’ spa. With fresh flowers no less! The nurse gave me a soft, pink cotton gown (most of the other offices graciously provided a course paper gown) and a new pair of fluffy white, anti-slip socks. She said when I was ready, to come back out and she’d take me to the photo studio. No lie. It was an actual room set up just for photos, but unlike a photography studio, there were no windows (whew) and the lighting was warm and dim (since they were using flash anyway). Contrast that with my pre-surgery photos in Denver which took place in the exam room, complete with harsh, florescent lighting (and flash!) and a blue paper background on the wall.
After returning to the exam room where Bill was waiting, the doctor examined me as I held my breath, even though I was careful not to actually suck in. If there was ever a time to let it all hang out, this was it.
It didn’t take long though before he confirmed,] that not only could he do a DIEP flap (just two flaps!), that he’d very likely be able to get me back to my current size without using implants. I can’t be sure, but I’m pretty sure I heard angels sing right then and there. And like I had six times before, had to hold back tears, but this time, they were happy tears. Tears of utter relief.
My surgery date was set for his next opening in late July. (And did I mention, the surgery will be much shorter – more like 8 hours, because they do these surgeries all the time and he too will perform the micro surgery portion with one of his colleagues at the Center.) He said even if it turned out he was unable to take as much from my abdomen as he thought, he was confident that my other donor sites looked like great options, as well. He even pointed out a couple of things he could change if I wanted him to…things so minor I hadn’t even mentioned them to him or his staff.
For the icing on top, he said he could likely do a total capsulectomy to remove any and all remnants of silicone in my body. All of the capsule that wouldn’t cause undue pain, significant bleeding or muscle dysfunction. I’m completely comfortable with this approach as he said any of his patients who had been experiencing any symptoms related to implants have had complete relief.
After bidding me farewell until July, we then met the patient educator with whom I had been talking and emailing, for a tour of their hospital where I’d be having the surgery. She showed us a room, complete with a Murphy bed for Bill (although I’m likely to encourage him to stay at the AirBnB so he can sleep uninterrupted), a sample meal menu (they have their own chef!) from which they would be providing meals for both Bill and I so he didn’t have to leave to try and find sustenance, and at least one kitchen stocked with snacks and drinks for the caregivers (& the patients when they feel up to it), complete with a Slushie machine! One of the doctors insisted on installing it because after patients are intubated for so long, their throats are sore and the icy cold can be a relief. Could they just provide ice chips like every other hospital? Sure, but it was just another example of how they put patients’ comfort front and center.
Instead of walking out of a surgeon’s office feeling the disappointment and lack of any hope whatsoever weighing on me like a literal ton of bricks, this time I felt like I was floating out, light as a feather. We heard more yes’s then no’s and we were consistently greeted with smiles rather than frowns and perplexed looks. Truly, the differences could not have been more striking. From the beautiful Breast Center waiting room with bright skylights, comfy couches in soft colors and real, live green plants to the hospital room that looked more like a very nice hotel room than a cold, antiseptic hospital room. The private bathroom comes stocked with toiletries and they even had a hairdryer, so your caregiver can give you a nice blowout while you recover. Think Bill’s up to that challenge? Think I trust him with that? 😉
I can get into the particulars of the travel in the future, but we already have a one story (so I don’t have to navigate stairs), cute little shotgun house reserved for our stay and my initial recovery. Sadly, but somewhat understandably, insurance won’t cover any of our travel costs, but it appears that we’ll have very little out of pocket costs for the surgeries because they are in-network with all the major insurance companies, including ours. Hallelujah!
Well, damn if I didn’t roll those dice, take a gamble and come up a big winner. Sure, I haven’t actually had the surgery yet, but I have no doubt I’m going be more pleased with the outcome than with what I have now. Even if I’m not, though, I know this doctor and his colleagues are dedicated to doing everything they can until I am. And amazingly, once I removed my resistance to traveling for the surgery, everything began (and continues to thankfully) fall into place so easily.
The breast reconstruction guidebook I have has a quote by a reconstruction patient when asked for advice for others – she said if you don’t feel like you can hug your plastic surgeon, you haven’t found the right one. Well, I finally found the right one and I don’t think he’ll mind a big bear hug after all this is over. Once I can lift my arms again, that is.
It just goes to prove, even when it’s not easy (especially when it’s not easy). patience and persistence can pay off. I’m speaking especially to my fellow ladies here, who often put others’ needs & desires above their own. I’ve been incredibly lucky to have Bill’s support and guidance in this journey, but he has always maintained that any decisions on what to do, how far to go, etc., are up to me and me alone. I hope you have someone that wonderful in your corner, as well.
Stick to your guns and listen to your intuition, your gut, your sixth sense…whatever you want to call it. “It” really does know what’s up and will never steer you wrong. I’m so glad I persisted, knowing that there had to be a solution out there for me.
Perhaps we should hit Vegas next ’cause I’m on a roll, baby.
