Monthly Archives: June 2012

by

Big Picture Meets Holy Crap

So we are “4 days and a wake up” as my partner says from surgery.  And there is very much a balance of emotions going on here.

In the big picture, I am very excited.  Yes, I’m a little wary – or maybe just anticipating – of the emotional process that I know will come with this, but I’m so hopeful (and pretty sure) that I can finally meet this time and this change with immense joy and go forward with that underneath any challenge.

In the local picture, I don’t have the right word for it yet – but I don’t think it’s excitement, except that I’m excited that the event is finally here after so long in preparation for it.  I’m intimidated thinking about the care and pain that will be there in the weeks after surgery.  I know that I’ll just go through it and I’m not worried about that, but I’m nervous about it.  Is there a difference…yes, I think there is.

The mortality risk of the surgery is just a one liner for me.  It’s there and you can be sure that I’ll be telling my family and friends that I love them and there will be that moment as I’m wheeled away to the operating room.  But I’m not spending time with that possibility.

I’m trying so hard to get myself into a place where I can embrace this 8 weeks of a different time.  I have a list of things that is all about my normal hodge podge of life elements – my conducting jobs, teaching studios, the small business with my partner, the care of our household, the keeping of connections with my community of friends and family – and I want to do well enough on that list that I don’t have the list of to-dos waiting for me.  Either they get done and can be picked up in August or they don’t get done and that’s okay.

And then I have the things that I do want to be a part of this different time of life.  Writing, relaxing into being less extroverted for awhile, releasing worries about how things and people are doing without me (hmm…that’s a whole blog topic of it’s own).  This is a virtual list at the moment – and I think that’s where it should remain because I don’t want this to become the new “should” list.  I simply want, at the end of this period of time, to be able to feel that I did manage to:

  • recover well
  • be off the grid and get a sense of refreshment in coming back on
  • spend my time differently, including trying my hand at more introspective things (writing and songwriting) that I have professed wanting to do for a long time
  • assess or be prepared to assess how I want to spend my time and energy in my professional and personal life.

This last one – I think it’s more about the mentality to be prepared to assess that.  From a more relaxed place and with fresh perspective.  I don’t actually want to spend these 8 weeks in active, analytical assessment.  That’s too close to my norm.

So the “Holy Crap” feeling of entering into the surgery is both physical and emotional and coming so much from just not knowing what it’s going to be like and how it’s all going to play out.  And I think that’s just where it needs to be.  I’m not going to know until I know and there’s no use in borrowing worry about that or trying to plan or predict it.

Right?!!  Right.

by

My Surgery

As you know, this blog is starting up as I head into reconstructive surgery.  The phrase that I’ve taken to using is “major reconstructive surgery made necessary by successful weight loss.”  This seems to calm people’s reactions when they hear “major surgery.”

So, what’s going to happen?  Warning – I’m going to tell you in detail and I’m not going to waste time being euphemistic about it.  It’s graphic and you should choose if it’s TMI for you.

There are two parts to this surgery – a belt lipectomy and a double mastopexy. Let’s start with the first, which is the bigger procedure.

A belt lipectomy is a lower body lift.  Sounds so simple!  Well, on me – they are doing a lot more than lifting, let me tell you!  After 150 lbs lost, I have a major pouch of skin and surface (subcutaneous) fat around my whole body.  In the front (it’s called a panniculus here), it hangs down to the tops of my thighs and it’s thicker than I can hold with my hands.  They will remove this – it is maybe 15 lbs all on it’s own! – and, with an incision that goes 360 around my body (right at the top of the legs/hips), they will pull everything together – that will flatten my stomach (first time that I’ll ever have that in my life that I remember!) and lift the buttocks and thighs somewhat (won’t affect the inner thighs).  They will also make a vertical incision down my middle front and go in and tighten the abdominal wall of muscle that has stretched out with all the excess.  They don’t actually cut and tighten – just tighten.  And, in all of this, they will cut out, reposition and reattach my navel.  Very weird to think about it!  That will be a major part of the recovery – learning to stand/lay straight again which will stretch those abdominal muscles.

Then the mastopexy – this is a breast reconstruction.  It’s a double mastopexy, well, because I have two of them.  Just to be clear!  Currently, they hang down near my belly button and are very thin and loose.  The surgery will take much of the fat from the bottom and move it to the top, pull them up into more appropriate breast positions, then cut out, reposition and reattach the nipples.  Technically, and certainly in bra size, this will reduce them, but it’s mostly about moving things around to be more…erm….shapely than about removing a lot of mass.  There just isn’t that much excess mass – it’s all about where it is!

The interesting, weird, personal thing about the mastopexy is that I have to say what I’d like to end up with.  The cup size, etc.  I could chose to get implants (not going to), be busty (had enough of that in my life) – I have to say!  And I’m not one who has ever thought about cosmetic surgery or has a real accurate picture of what size I prefer.  The best that I could come up with at first when the surgeon asked me was that I really just wanted them to look like breasts – you know – breasts!  Have some round to them.  Proportionate.  Perhaps a smidge perky!  Dare I say cup-able?!!  Breasts!!!!

Well, I guess I’m out there now.  If you wondered how plain-spoken this blog would be.  It’s plain. And that’s what I wanted more of when I was surfing for other’s experience, so it’s what I’m going to give.

Okay – those are the procedures.  All together, it’s an 8-10 hour surgery.  I’ll spend perhaps only one night in the hospital – with a possible option for a second.  The recovery will be lengthy and multi-faceted.  I’ll come home with 6 drains that we’ll have to record and empty 2x/day and they’ll come out gradually as they can – perhaps over 3 weeks.  There will be a lot of bruising and swelling and I think it will take a few hours each day just to clean and care for the incisions – ointment, protection, layers of binder/bra and clothing to keep everything safe and comfortable.  I likely won’t feel really at all functional for 4 weeks – no driving, no lifting, only walking as much as I can and in circles so I don’t get stuck too far away and run out of steam.  I’ll wear an abdominal binder and surgical bra for at least 6 weeks and still no lifting, but shopping may be able to happen as the swelling is finally down and we’ll know my true size.  Somewhere around 8 weeks, I should have the all clear to resume life as normal.

I’ll be using this blog a lot, I hope – and it’s my intention to have a very, very different period of time this summer.  Obviously taking the time and energy to recover, but then taking the rest of the time to really break my patterns.  I want to write – blog and songwrite – relax, read, reassess – you get the picture.  I want to be without “shoulds” as much as I can.  I’m pretty sure that will get harder as I feel better – but I’m determined to relax.  I WILL RELAX!!  Okay, relax, Jen…<sheesh> this is complicated!

by

My Thing

Everybody has their thing – their something to overcome – their baggage.  It was undeniable through the first 20 years of my adult life that my “thing” was my weight.  And I believed, even before I started losing the weight, that I had overcome it in so many ways – that it hadn’t won.

Physically, it was a debate – clearly I had a problem, but I had not given up.  There were plenty of times of despair and great frustration, but I always imagined the success of losing it and so, I had not lost the physical battle.

Emotionally – wow, did I believe that I had won – big time!  That I had conquered the ways in which my weight could hurt me or hold me back. I believed myself to be the picture of emotional strength and health – a confident, public performer and teacher, connected with my emotional body and the friend/partner that could be leaned on and counted on for good emotional advice.  Equipoise – don’t get me started!  I’ll do a whole ‘nother blog on the concept of equipoise and how I leapt on it as the perfect definition for me.  (Here…I’ll at least give you the definition:  the ability to serenely monitor the movements of one’s own mind and correct for biases and shortcomings.  HINT:  it’s the serenely part that is the real hang-up here!)

In fact, my thing – my weight – had won in a very big way and with masterful disguise.  Hiding behind all this confidence and health like the Wizard of Oz in the cockpit of the space shuttle.  Sophisticated monitors for every thing – how people responded to me and ensuring that I projected all my good traits, instructing every move I made and how it presented my body, tracking every reflective surface…on and on.  I’ve learned there is a term for this – hyper vigilance.

And now, here I am at the end of the physical battle.  I have won definitively, thank you very much!  Isn’t there a podium to stand on and a personal anthem to be sung?  For all that hope, did I ever really think that I would get here?  That I would hear words like “normal weight” or “little?”  That I would sit in every chair with my legs curled around me?  I’m not sure…I’m not sure how confident I was that I would actually be here.

And the emotional battle – well, that has just begun.  I didn’t know there was a battle to be fought and man, did the other side get a surprise round.  Knocked me flat and took the breath right out of me.  But I have gotten to my feet and I’m fighting.  And what my opponent may not realize is that it has trained me very well – I am a fierce fighter.  Stubborn, resourceful and smart. And I’m coming for you.