An End to Years of Embarrassment and Camouflage - Charlotte, NC

Since I got my first training bra in fifth grade I can remember being teased for the size of my breasts. In high school I was told my boyfriend only went out with me because I had "a nice car and big boobs." At my 10-year class reunion one of my best friends joked about having to stand between two girls with "huge boobs" in the group photo. I never felt they were sexy; I thought they were hideous, embarrassing appendages that entered rooms before the rest of me and I did everything I could for years to hide them. It was bad enough when the rest of me was in shape, but when I put on significant weight the problem just got worse. When my niece was born three years ago I saw the photos of me holding her in the hospital and it looked like she was perched on a shelf on my chest. More than a year ago I got serious about my weight and have dropped 86 pounds. The weight loss was amazing, but even with substantial loss in the chest area I was still a DDD. I had always wanted to have a reduction procedure and decided a few months back to see if insurance would cover it. I did my research and spoke with women who had been through it and I made an appointment with one of the top plastic surgery practices in Charlotte. I'm a bargain shopper about a lot of things, but surgery is not one of them. I had a consultation with Dr. Harper and he felt there would be enough of a reduction that insurance coverage was a possibility. Even before I met with Dr. Harper I started the legwork on getting my medical "team" on board to give myself the best shot at insurance coverage. I've had degenerative disc disease since I was 15 (I'm 44 now) and have already had one spinal surgery with more likely in the future. Additionally, I see a chiropractor on a regular basis to try and keep everything lined up. I got with my family doctor, my orthopedic surgeon, and my chiropractor and they provided medical records and even letters of support for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of South Carolina to review. I left no stone unturned when it came to collecting supporting documentation. Dr. Harper's staff put the package together and submitted it and I prayed for a good outcome. My husband and I discussed the possibilities and knew that the surgery was something I wanted and needed and that we'd find a way to pay out-of-pocket if the insurance claim was denied. Three weeks after submission I learned the procedure was approved and I called immediately to schedule it. I seriously wanted to do it the next day, but I had to wait a month for a date that worked for everyone. I was secretly terrified that the pre-approval would fall through in the meantime.

I went for my pre-op consultation where we got down to brass tax about what I hoped to accomplish. I told Dr. Harper I wanted SMALL. I mean, itty-bitty, are-they-even-there, training bra small. I wanted a B cup at most. Don't misunderstand me. . .I wanted nubs. I had been ashamed of my breasts for so long I wanted them all but gone. I told him he could not go too small for me. After responding that the procedure was a reduction and not a mastectomy (such a funny one, that Dr. Harper) he stood me up in front of the mirror and talked to me about proportion and "womanly shape" and the width of my rib cage and so forth. I said "small, small, small." He told me he heard what I was saying and followed it up with "trust me; this is what I do." I told him I would, but that if a moment came in surgery when he was questioning whether or not to stop cutting or take a little more to keep cutting. He said he could live with that and we shook on it.

On September 2 I checked into the hospital (Blue Cross requires the surgery to be done in the hospital and not at the practice's surgery center) and I had informed my husband that if I was knocked out before I saw Dr. Harper to say these words to him EXACTLY: "My wife says to remind you that the word of the day is 'small.'" Of course I saw Dr. Harper while I was still fully conscious (there is all that drawing with markers to be done) and I was able to tell him myself that the word of the day was still "small." He was pretty used to me and my control-freak tendencies by that time so he made his marks and we got the show on the road.

I've had quite a lot of surgery because of my back problems and I was prepared for a painful recovery. I was absolutely shocked when I went home and barely needed more than Motrin. The pain was much less than I anticipated and within just a few days I felt almost normal. At first I thought they were not small enough. There was some swelling, but not too much and I didn't think they would get much smaller. For a few days I was fretting about it and even feeling depressed because they were still visible under clothing. I still had breasts and I had been hoping they would be virtually invisible because I had felt like they were the only visible thing about me for so many years.

A strange thing happened about two weeks after surgery. I started to notice that I looked different, not just because the size was different but because the size and shape flattered me. I had been so consumed with the idea of having them "go away" that I had never considered that they could be altered to be an actual "asset" to my appearance. I had never had that experience before and didn't even consider it a possibility. It was like layers and layers of protective shell began to fall off me. I went in to have something that embarrassed me taken away; but I came out with something that made me feel attractive and that was totally unexpected.

I'm now three months post-surgery and my next check-up will be at the one-year mark. I have more weight to lose, but I can run for the first time without fear of giving myself a black eye. I can shop for bras that do not double as refrigerator tie-downs. I can buy v-necks without fear of the dreaded cleavage line that made me feel like my chest was a 3-D model of San Andreas fault. More importantly, I feel like a normal woman with my whole person entering the room at the same time.