Signs I’m ready to go back to work

As the old saying goes, time flies when you’re getting your boobs lopped off. Or something along those lines. Whilst some elements of the last 4 weeks, such as hospital food, seem a lifetime away, it feels like only yesterday when I was waving goodbye to Mr F as they wheeled me into theatre.

But as I prepare to hang up my slippers, here are my top 10 signs that show I’m ready to re-enter the world of work.

1. I am feeling better. Still get pretty tired, like someone has turned off the lights unexpectedly. But much better.
2. My arm movements are pretty good and I’m lifting things, including my friend’s 18 month old daughter. I realise this wasn’t wise, but she reached up to me, my ovaries gave a little yelp and I instinctively picked her up.
3. My day revolves around The Bachelor; Ben’s Season, and I already know that nasty Courtney wins, they are now broken up and my favourite, Kacie B made a fool of herself going back on the latest series.
4. I am repeatedly purchasing clothes to wear to work despite not earning a wage.
5. I have lots of new clothes to wear to work.
6. The final episode of The Bachelor, where Ben chooses Courtney, airs tomorrow.
7. My brain is the consistency of papier mache and I struggle to use the right words for everyday items.
8. I find it hard to make it past 5.30pm before eating dinner.
9. I should be able to go sans plaster on the total eclipse of the nipple by Monday.
10. I’m fully back up to speed with Hollyoaks.

So that settles it, back to the grind on Monday.

But just to make doubly sure I’m good to go, I think I’ll head off for a luxurious spa and wine weekend….

Shopping for a post-mastectomy bra to wear during the expander process

We’ve chatted before about whether you need to wear a bra after a prophylactic mastectomy. To save you reading through my previous musings, I will summarise my findings. Do you need to? Not technically, no. These bad boys, especially during the expander phase are rock solid and won’t be going anywhere. Could you if you want to? Yes, of course.

However, as is often the case, the real questions don’t come until after the event. I know I don’t want to be splashing out on fancy lingerie before I get my final Foobs. I’m a little cheap and what’s the point, they’ll change size each week? But as I prepare to head back to work very soon, the following concerns have arisen:

Wearing a bra post-mastectomy: The real questions!

–          To pad or not to pad? Or to put it more succinctly, do I want to wear padding to go back to work so people can’t see how little my current boobies are? Or do I want to just show my baps as they are, regardless where I am in the expanding process?

–          Do my nipples show through some of my clothes?

–          Do I want my colleagues to be able to see my nipples?

To pad or not to pad?

I was given a bra in hospital. It’s a decent one by Berlei that does up at the front. Yes it’s beige and extremely non-sexy, but it was free. It also comes with generous pads that are much better than any of the rolled up tissue paper I used to use as a pre-pubescent teen.

But do I want to pad my bra? Mr F thinks I do and I’d have more confidence when I go back to work?

For me, I don’t know if I give two stuffs? Surprisingly enough I’ve been pretty open about what I’ve had done, so people aren’t expecting me to return with a full rack. So returning wearing humungous padding feels a little disingenuous, as though I’m denying what I had done.  I also think it would draw more attention to my chest than not having anything.

What’s more, contrary to what most people think when they’ve seen me for the first time since the op, I’m not concave, or completely flat. There is some shape there and in the words of my friend, I just look like a sporty, small chested girl.

So, to pad or not to pad?

Nope. People can see the progression as and when it happens.

Do my nipples show through some of my clothes?

Yes, they really do. Seemingly more so now as the left one is in a permanent state of not erect (that function is now defunct) but not flat.  The right one is currently sitting underneath a bandage, which is also showing through clothes.

Do I want my colleagues to be able to see my nipples?

Hell no!

So what to do?

Well I found my solution yesterday in these very, tween-like cammi-bras from Ambra http://www.ambra.net.au/. They are soft, have no wires, will stretch as my Foobs grow, and most importantly, WILL HIDE MY NIPPLES FROM MY WORK COLLEAGUES!

They do look a bit like ‘my first bra’, which essentially they are, but they were tres cheap at $19.95 and are exactly what I need for now.

 

What I did next? Celebrating my release from hospital

This heading sounds a bit dramatic doesn’t it? But it’s genuinely how I felt.

On day 13 (yes, day 13 in hospital) I knew going home the next day was pretty much a sure thing. However, whenever Mr F tried to say something nice about it, I told him off as I’d been in this place before and boy is it heartbreaking when it doesn’t happen.

The tester for going home would be the levels of fluid in my re-inserted right drain. They hadn’t been high since I went back into surgery to clear out the infection, but had increased on Day 12 to 30ml, the cut off point for removal. Every night the nurses swapped my drain bags over to new ones at 12am. So on night 13 at 11.55pm I lay in wait for the nurse. 12am came; 15mls, Bam! I promptly fell back to sleep, safe in the knowledge I was getting released the next morning.

I woke up at 6am, like a kid on Christmas Day, washed and started packing. CPS came to see me at 7.30am and confirmed my fate. I apologised for being a bit mental during my stay. I think he appreciated it?

Discharge

Mr F came to the hospital as my bust out-apprentice and carried ALL my bags to the car for our trip to the supermarket! Some of you will appreciate the mundaneness of hospital food, and even with multiple takeaways from friends and trips to the cafes, all I wanted was clean, fresh food.

In my pursuit of clean food I underestimated how difficult going to the supermarket was, and I didn’t really do anything. Some items were just way too heavy to pick up and there are a lot of people in the supermarket.

Once we were done I was beat! But had my wonderful couch and head chef, Mr F to make me a lovely fresh chicken and avo salad for lunch.

Treating myself

Having any operation and spending any period in hospital, I believe, requires nice things to happen following discharge.

For me, I jumped on the internet and booked a spa weekend away for me and Mr F for a bit of relaxation and pampering. Apparently booking a champagne breakfast by helicopter tour, or wineries by horse and cart, was a little over the top. This trip is only allowed to be 40% romantic.

Then yesterday I went window shopping for nice clothes that are appropriate for someone who has just had a mastectomy. I really don’t think they have to be that different. I wasn’t big enough to be a cleavage hoochy mamma before so I just need to be a bit more wary of choosing higher cut tops and making more out of the bottom half of my body (I saw this amazing leopard print mini – I promise it won’t make me look like a bar-tender).

Finally I went to the hairdressers to get my birds nest excavated. I washed my hair 3 times in 14 days (14 days? But that’s 2 weeks? Yes) so the girl had her work cut out. With clean hair in check, I could resume my position on my sofa, congratulating myself on a day’s hard work.

Muted celebrations of the simple things in life: Day 12

Over the last few days I am acting a little more cautious and my celebrations of ‘get Trisha the heck out of hospital milestones’ are somewhat muted. It is within this context that we recount Day 12 (yes day 12) since the operation (hurray, smiley face. I don’t really like emoticons outside of social media), and day 12 in hospital (really, 12 days? She must be going out of her mind? Correct).

Health Rating: 6/10

Mental Health Rating (where 1 means sane and 10 means mental): 8/10

Day 12

–          CPS (Child Plastic Surgeon for any newbies) comes to see me at 7.30 am. He is either a) scared of me because I shout at him all the time, or b) punishing me because I shout at him all the time.

He says the left drain that has been in my body for 12 days (yes 12 days!) can come out.

–          I go get a coffee in my hospital gowns, pushing my IV and carrying my drain bags. One of the drains is so long and the fluid inside is so yellow it looks like a catheter. Everyone smiles at me. Pity smiles!

–          Silver-fox Plastic Surgeon comes to see me. He is sporting a healthy, tired look that can only have been achieved through water sports and beach walks with chilled white wine chasers on the veranda each night of the Easter break. These tired eyes are brought out by a deep, mahogany tan that even Australian’s wouldn’t frown at.

He confirms that the left drain can come out and switches my IV antibiotics or oral. Main benefits of this:

• I can walk around without pushing my 6 foot friend (the IV)
• I can take off the gowns
• I can wash

Downsides:

• People will invariably stop pity smiling at me and just wonder why I’m wearing an adult baby-grow?

–          The nurse comes to remove my left drain. The incision site looks like an angry, inflamed, teenage piercing (I had plenty of these so I know). She then goes to take it out and I swear it’s grown feet the thing’s been festering in my body for so long (did I mention anything about 12 days?). So she has to give it a good yank, I feel its claws dislodge, it comes out. I never want to see it again.

–          MT comes to see me. I have a smaller visiting pool now as I’m too tired and unpleasant to entertain anyone who doesn’t have to be my friend due to longevity. When I wake up, high on the news that Hollyoaks is coming to Aus, we both watch a round-up episode that introduces me to all the latest characters and their story lines. See below footnotes for more information on Hollyoaks.

–          Mr F comes to see me – HURRAY! He brings Vietnamese. We watch the first episode of Game of Thrones Season 3.

And those are the highlights of Day 12. There is a lot of talk of ‘home’, but this is causing me different levels of optimism and distress for reasons I’ll discuss in Day 13.

p.s. one of the search terms that led someone to my site yesterday was ‘Intimacy hot boob play’. Ah ha ha ha! How disappointed they must have been. Ha ha. Insert smiley emoticon 🙂

Hollyoaks

Hollyoaks is a UK soap opera set in the fictional town of Chester.

It only features incredibly attractive actors between the ages of about 15 – 28. They may be attractive, but on the whole they are very common. For those in the UK (who probably know Hollyoaks anyway) by common I mean chavvy, Australians, I mean bogan.

Anyone who is not attractive or falls outside the above descriptor is what is known as a token character. Examples of token characters may include:

–          Not attractive people

–          Overweight people

–          Ordinary looking people

–          Old people

–          Crazy people e.g. cult leaders or murderers

When I was in the UK, Hollyoaks was on about 5 nights a week, which was then re-shown as an omnibus on Sunday morning. Hungover, me and my friends, or my brother’s friends, or just me, would eat a bacon sandwich and watch Hollyoaks for the majority of Sunday morning. It was ace.

Hospital Fashion

I am currently in hospital, not hiding! Despite not having any breasts at present, I’d still like to make an effort to look as nice as I can. So ladies and gentleman, with the help of my very talented photographer, Miss H Pike, I bring you, HOSPITAL HAUTE COUTURE:

Massage Socks:

Amazing. You get these pre-op and they keep them on for about a day and a half. They massage one leg at a time and stop you from getting DVT. If only every Easy Jet or Tiger Airways plane had these installed.

Compression Socks:

If you act really healthy and show you can get up and walk around, they take the amazing massage socks away from you and give you these compression stockings. They do the same thing, just nowhere near as cool.

Rabbit Eye Mask:

They wake you up all the time here, especially during the first night, so the reality is you need to sleep when you can and this pretty thing helps.  It also doubles up as a head band and hides greasy fringes that can’t be washed for a few days. Find it at the Aussie King of night-time apparel, Peter Alexander http://www.peteralexander.com.au/shop/en/peteralexander.

Drain Bags:

I was wearing these as bracelets on my wrist, until again, I got more mobile and they gave me some floral bags to carry them in. Not very attractive but I guess they are better than exposing the plastic sacks containing the contents of my arm pits?

Comfy, Brightly Coloured Pants from Bonds:

 

Avid readers will remember that I wanted to start each day in hospital with brand new, brightly coloured pants so I could begin the day in a positive fashion. Today I opted for purple and white stripes bikini briefs, brought to life with this shocking pink band. http://www.bonds.com.au/womens/underwear/hipster-bikini-244.html#80=3313&142=778

Armpit Cushions:

 

The breast nurse left these for me. Not quite worked out what they are for. I think they make sure your drains don’t rub? I dunno, they are purple and shiny though so that’s nice.

Adult Baby Onesie:

I can’t really get anything over my head, so what better than this button up, adult onesie from, you guessed it, Peter Alexander. The pockets are also deep enough to carry my drain bags,which is supper helpful when getting in and out of bed to travel all of 3 feet to the toilet. http://www.peteralexander.com.au/shop/en/peteralexander/pastel-stripe-onesie

Knitted Bunny Headphones:

This was a present from work. I haven’t used them yet as I have been too busy pressing the morphine button and blogging about ridiculous topics to pass the time, but they go with the ensemble and people love them! http://www.shop.cottonon.com/shop/product/knitted-headphones-bunny-pink/

OK, that’s it from the hospital fashionista for now.  Hope you enjoyed my style tips from the surgical catwalk.

 

Bra Binning: One night to Surgery

In the 1960’s the woman’s rights movement was well-known for supposedly burning their bras as a symbol of liberation. This originated on September 7th, 1968 when a group of feminists gathered to protest against the Miss America Pageant in Atlantic City. http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miss_America_protest

What grabbed the media’s attention at the protest was the ‘freedom trash can’ into which women symbolically threw ‘instruments of female torture’ including false eyelashes, make-up, girdles and bras.

Now I don’t feel like my bras are an ‘instrument of torture’, I think they are an incredibly useful piece of clothing that make your boobs look infinitely better than they do sans-support. However, as I have less than 12 hours left with my current boobs, I am marking the occasion with my own freedom bin and liberation movement from the threat of breast cancer.

We’re all friends here and have already discussed my reluctance to buy nice underwear.  I have nothing against nice underwear, it’s just nice underwear is expensive (especially in Australia) and I really like nice, but cheap clothes. Given the choice between a trendy top from Sports Girl and a lacy intimate from Elle Macpherson, I’ll choose the top every time.

Having known I was going to undergo this surgery for about 6 months has also exacerbated the standard of my bra portfolio.  There’s been no point in buying any new ones, but as a result, my brassieres are about to disintegrate. But, the time has come, and they have treated me well, so before they go in Trisha’s Freedom Bin, I want to pay them a little tribute….

This is my favourite and most recent bra. I thought I’d only bought it a year ago. Mr F says it’s about two. Whilst it looks nice from a distance, look how fake tan has muddied the colour of the baby pink straps.

My only, kinda white bra whose underwires are about to break through the material. I didn’t even purchase this one and was a hand-me-down from a friend.

 

An old bra from the UK – only one of the hooks still works.

My oldest bra, it doesn’t fit and the straps are way too long.

What looks like a teenager’s bra, way too small and my nipples always break-free .

Dingy, used to be pink bra, maybe my first Australian purchase. I’ve been here four years.

So whilst I’m not sad to send my bras to my Freedom Bin, I would like to thank them for their support. Thanks guys, your work here is done…

 

ANSWERED: I’m not going to have any boobs – do I really need a bra?

Some of you may remember my post that asked the question, if I’m getting my boobs lopped off, do I really need a bra? http://www.imgettingmyboobsoff.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/

Despite having done quite a lot of research, at that point I did not have a definitive answer. So as I went to my last pre-op appointment with my plastic surgeon, I was keen to get the answer.

I like my plastic surgeon, as much as anyone needs to like their plastic surgeon. He’s pretty straight up, honest and seems to have my best interests at heart. As a result, I trust him and that’s what’s important for me. However, am I going to invite him and his family over for dinner? It’s unlikely. Does he laugh at any of my ‘I’m a really positive patient’ jokes? No. Not even one.

I arrive at my appointment with my bra questions printed out on a piece of paper and wait for my cue…

Plastic surgeon: “So Trisha, do you have any questions?”

Me: “Yes, do I need to wear a bra after surgery?”

Plastic surgeon: “No”

Me: “Oh, I thought you might give me one?”

Plastic surgeon: “No”

Me: “Oh, I see. I read somewhere that I won’t ever need to wear a bra ever again?”

Plastic surgeon: “No, you don’t.”

Me: “I’m not sure about how I feel about that. I quite like wearing a bra.”

Plastic surgeon: “You can choose to wear a bra, but you don’t need to.”

I probably cracked a bad patient joke here and that was that. I’m not going to lie, I was a little bit disappointed. As we have discussed before, whilst I haven’t been the best lingerie buyer to date, I was keen to treat my new boobs a little better. So I left with the answers to my questions, but a little despondent.

That was until I received a call a few days later from one of the breast nurses at the hospital. She was calling to introduce herself and let me know that she’ll be getting me a bra to take home with me from the hospital.  HURRAH!

She explained that whilst you don’t need to wear a bra, lots of women want to, and so they get you a bra for when you’re ready to wear one. What’s more, as I’ll have the chest of a prepubescent girl during the beginning of the filling process, they also give you some soft foam to fill the bras with to give you some shape and confidence until the new boobs come into play.

With the encouragement to go forth and wear a bra, regardless of whether I need one or not, I am ready to go lingerie window shopping again.

Post Surgery Bra Shopping

Before you start, this article is a good checklist for what you need to bear in mind when buying a post-surgical bra. http://breastcancer.about.com/od/lifeduringtreatment/tp/bras-camis.htm. Key points are, focus on comfort and look for wide bands on the shoulders and beneath the breast.  Underwires are a no no until your surgeon says so, avoid seams and choose front fastening, especially for the months immediately following surgery.

Across the pond, the great British institution that is Marks and Spencer, has pulled together a video lingerie guide to post surgery, which is good to watch before you buy anything:  http://www.marksandspencer.com/MS-TV/b/311612031?intid=emtv_2_42_1375671779001

They have quite a good range of bras, very reasonably priced, but their post-surgery ones do look a bit like my grandma would wear. It might be worth looking at some of their non-wired options, which are much prettier, for a bit further down the track.

I like this Carefix Post-Op Bra, Alice that I found on http://www.undiewarehouse.com.au (which has loads of options BTW). It does up at the front, is wireless and recommended for post-operative stage, immediately following surgery.

Another one from Carefix that I found on Westfield is also pretty cool. Again it does up at the font, holds dressings in place and says it’s great for use in the recovery stage after breast augmentation, reduction, reconstruction, mastopexy, lumpectomy or radiation. Sounds pretty comprehensive to me? http://www.westfield.com.au/au/search?sq=post+surgery+bras

This Berlei wirefree post-surgery cotton bra looks a bit ‘surgical’ and asexual, but I like Berlei and you can trust they’ll probably be good. It has both front and back opening and cotton inner pockets to accommodate prosthesis. http://www.berlei.com.au/bras/shop-by-range/post-surgery/

Finally, another great site for Aussies is Zodee http://www.zodee.com.au/search/?w=Post+surgery. They start from just over $25 for a basic wire free bra, and go up to around $60 for something more special.

 

How will I remember my boobs…? With my arty nudie shots of course!

Believe it or not, before it became all I ever really thought about and started a blog in their honour, I’d never really been that fussed about my boobs.

I did spend my early teens longing for something! As a late developer, they didn’t show up for a while, and when they did, I was small anyway so they too, were small. Alongside occasionally being referred to as an ironing board, I realised I had to work a little harder on my personality and accepted them for what they were.

During my 20’s, as an exercise nut I actually enjoyed having small boobs.  I’m ashamed to say I didn’t wear a proper sports bra for years, even during my training for the Berlin marathon.  It wasn’t until afterwards I realised that gravity hits even the most modest of boobs.

But as the date when I will part with my boobs for eternity looms ever closer, I’ve realised that as boobs go, I’ve been blessed with pretty decent mammary glands that have served me well for the past 33 years. And on this realisation, I begin to wonder how I’m going to remember these things.

It was Mr F who last week suggested I get some nudie shots done. Black and white, arty and tasteful, but nudie shots all the same.  It seems it didn’t take much convincing and I contacted my lovely and talented photographer friend, GM and asked him if he might be able to fit in a photo shoot before the chop.

A look at my Facebook page may imply that I’m a big fan of the camera, but I promise the opposite is true.  Unless I have a chance to turn to the side, dip my chin and plaster a cheesy smile, I’m not interested.  It is with this feeling I turn up at the studio, more nervous than I feel about the actual operation.

GM shows me some examples of some amazing shots of very arty looking boobs in soft lifting and black and white, and without a second to spare, I’m down to my briefs and the shoot is on (vomit).

My lovely photographer friend is very good and puts me at ease taking a few shots with my arms strategically placed and subtle portrait shots. As we progress I feel like I’m on a turn table as I gradually turn from one side of the room to the other.

After about 5 minutes it’s actually less confronting than you’d think. I can’t see GM’s face as I’m looking at a camera-lens, and let’s face it, what have I got to lose? My boobs? Oh right, we’ve already got that covered.

After 30 minutes I have a new-found respect for models.  My body has been contorted in all sorts of holds, my hips feel like an 80 year old and I’m a little sweatier than I’d like to be.  It’s not dissimilar, I imagine, to topless yoga.

At about 40 minutes GM tells me to freestyle, which I’m really not that comfortable with. I dig deep to try and to will my inner Jordan to make an appearance. She apparently has another engagement so I just move a little more than I was previously and hope for the best.

After an hour’s shoot I’m tired, hot and not anywhere near as self-conscious as I was when I walked in the room.  GM shows me some pre-airbrushed shots and quite frankly I’m bowled over.  I don’t look that bad and I now have a living memory of my two, soon to be departed friends, for the rest of my life.

Whatever the sacrifices, my current situation has pushed me out of my comfort zone a trillion times over and today was something I never ever thought I’d do in my entire life. Am I going to post my pictures online? Definitely not. Am I going to blow up one of the shots and hang it in the living room? It’s unlikely. But am I grateful that I will have some beautiful shots to help remember my boobs? Absolutely!

 

Shopping for a Mastectomy: Part 2

Welcome to the latest installment in the series, ‘Shopping for a Mastectomy: Part 2.’ Otherwise known as my way of asserting some sort of control over my situation through the process of buying things. Now I’m no expert on shopping for a mastectomy, not having had one yet, but I have gained inspiration from my blogging friends laurennicole333 and Mogatos, and I have read A LOT of sources. So whilst some of these items are, I’m sure, very useful for someone undergoing a mastectomy, some may be a little frivolous and nice to haves, not need to haves.

Detachable shower head

Whilst my boyfriend has very kindly offered to hose me down in the garden, I think the best way for me to wash, without getting my bandages and dressings wet, is with this nifty, hand-held device. To be used in the comfort, and privacy of my indoor bathroom.

Check out the picture of someone washing their dog in a bowl. Comforting image for things to come…

Facial wipes

Before the hosing, I’ll be washed with the help of the nurses, a sponge bath and what is also known as a Glastonbury shower.

Dry shampoo

And without the ability to wash, my hair may become increasingly shiny, but I’m afraid that will be down to grease, not healthy vitality.

Instant hand sanitizer

Infection is a real risk me for post-operation so I will be uncharacteristically particular and insist that any visitors, as well as Mr F, sanitize before enjoying my post-operative, drugged up, yet stimulating company.

Digital thermometer

On the subject of infection, chief temperature taker, Mr F, will make sure all is well and I am hopefully staying well within room temperature.

Comfy pants!

I don’t know why, but I am keen to wear brand new knickers, each day, during my stay in hospital. So I have bought 8 pairs of comfy and brightly coloured Bonds underwear for every night I’m in hospital, to brighten up my day.

Ugly pajamas

It makes sense that I’ll need button up pajamas when I’m in hospital as I’m unlikely to be able to lift my arms over my head. However, the majority of button down PJs are toweling  and believe it or not, Australia has a tendency to be hot so toweling is definitely not an option! Outside of that, my options were pretty slim.  None the less, I did find these relatively lightweight, yet ugly pajamasfor just $15 from our trusty Kmart. I have supplemented them with 2 singlets with big arm holes, in case I feel like I need to break out.

However, on first viewing of my night-time apparel, Mr F has insisted I spend a decent amount of money to get real silk pajamas that may stand more chance of a) looking OK and b) letting my skin breathe.

AMAZING slippers of love

Look! They have hearts on them! Something for me to spread the love as I escape from my hospital ward to the posh coffee shops in the private hospital on Level 9. A mere $8 from Target.

Adult sippy cup

This one’s amazing. I don’t even have to tip it and it’s got a special little gizmo in it that cools the water as you drink. Oh, and it’s pink.

So I think I’m pretty much sorted. What’s more, I even managed to tick off another item on my ‘Mastectomy To Do List’, with a fabulous new haircut. Yey me!  I’m going into hospital, not hiding, after all!

 

So I’m not going to have any boobs – do I really need a bra?

The answer is I don’t know just yet.

I’ve never really been one for fancy lingerie. Every once in a blue moon I will buy a pair of matching underwear, which very quickly becomes non-matching when I wear my new favourite bra 50 x more than the new matching pants. Much to my boyfriend’s dismay, I’m a little partial to big, comfortable pants and knowing I’m about to undergo a radical change in breast size, I have held off buying new bras to replace my existing ones that are pretty much falling apart.

However, I am a planner and so questions as to, do I need bras for after surgery and how soon do I need them, are currently on my agenda.

What I do know?

• I know I can’t wear anything with under-wire because of the wounds and stitches
• I know I should get one that does up at the front as I’m likely to have limited movement in my arms

What I don’t know (and this is the long one)?

• Do I wear a bra straight away? Some sources say you do and that I’ll need to sleep in one for a while? Other sources say it depends on the individual and what the surgeon advises
• Will the hospital give me a bra or should I have a couple ready for the hospital?
• Do I need to get a bra the size of where my reconstruction will end up or do I go conservative for more support?
• And the one that’s flummoxed me: Once all is well and I have a new set of boobs, do I need to wear a bra ever again? Christina Applegate, who was diagnosed with cancer and then found she had a BRCA gene mutation made this claim on Oprah and I don’t really know how I feel about it. http://www.oprah.com/health/Christina-Applegates-Breast-Cancer-Battle

Part of being a woman is wearing a bra and you never forget how happy, not to mention relieved you were when you could finally justify wearing one. And whilst I am a big fan of being able to go sans boulder-holder to the coffee shop on a Sunday morning, I’d don’t know how I’d feel about doing that on a daily basis. You never know, having my current boobies taken away from me, I may treat my new ones a little better and invest in something nice to carry them in.

Myself and Mr F are off to the plastic surgeon next week so I will endeavour to find out as much as I can.  In the meantime, I am impatient and love to be prepared, so I’m going to buy a couple… just in case.  I’ll come back and will show you what I decide upon and where I’ve found some good options.