Ready or Not? - Portland, OR

Hello Real Selfers. Like many of you, I have been checking out this website for months now and it is because of your words of strength and encouragement, and shared laughter and tears, I am now opening up and sharing my story as well. It's not so different than the one many of you have told, I only wish I had told this story years earlier.

A bit about myself, I'm 5'5", 145 lbs and 50 years old. Currently I'm a 34/36DDD. The summer between middle school and high school, I went from being an ironing board 32A to a ridiculously busty 34C. Believe me, the boys in my freshman homeroom class who'd known me since the sand box days, could hardly believe their eyes - and neither could I. I'd always been very much the Tom-boy, climbing trees, playing baseball and tearing around on my bike. What was I supposed to do with these things? I very clearly remember the day my mom made me call up Sears & Roebuck on the phone and talk to the operator so I could order four 34C bras to complete my back-to-school shopping. How embarrassing. I was 13 years old at the time.

(Yes, I'm showing my age, this was long before the internet was a even a mere twinkle in Al Gore's eyes.)

This change of events of course forced me to rethink playing sports in high school. The first "jog bra" was not even invented until 1977 and was nowhere to be found on the racks at our local Sears or JC Penney's. As if high school wasn't awkward enough, throw in a couple of C cups when trying to run a 440m, or dive for a volleyball or swim a 400m relay and you get the picture. The final straw came when I decided to go out for the diving team. Standing out there on the end of the board during a home meet, wearing a skin-tight green Speedo, with 80 pairs of eyes staring down at me from the bleachers - what was I thinking?

I'd been swimming since I was 5 years old, but that moment proved too much. I quit the team after the meet that day and found solace in my new best friend - food. I went from 4'11" 95 lbs my freshman year to 5'4" 167 lbs - possibly more - by the time I graduated. I stopped weighing myself once I hit 167 lbs, because that's how much my dad weighed.

Fast forward 12 years through college, grad school, numerous part time jobs and on to my first "real" job with benefits. I was living in a small town at the time, and there was only 1 plastic surgeon. My PCP referred me and I showed up at the PS's office, just over the moon, because I was finally going to be able to talk with someone who could help me ease this burden. By this time, I was a 36D/DD, 5'5" and back down to 135 lbs.

Long story short, it was the most humiliating 30 minutes of my life. He had me stand up against the wall with my shirt off and took photos of me with a Polaroid, which he then sent in to my insurance company along with some measurements and his recommendation for breast reduction surgery. I was turned down not once, but twice by my insurance company, reason being, it was deemed "cosmetic." The PS offered a 20% discount if I paid cash, but at the time (1993), it would have been about $15,000 - more than half a year's salary. I told him I couldn't afford it - heck, I didn't even own a car at that time and was still paying off grad school loans. And, to add insult to injury - as I mentioned, it was a small town - I would run into him everywhere. The thought that those Polaroids were still floating around somewhere made me cringe every time I saw him.

For the past 20 years I have just lived with the back pain and the shoulder pain and the neck pain, and the frustration, the embarrassment, the unwanted attention and the bad posture. And as I've gotten older, I have come to grips with the fact that I can't run or go to Zumba class or even ride my bike comfortably. I'm tired of wearing 2 sports bras at a time or having to wear a bra under my swimsuit because I have yet to meet the engineer who can strap these babies in. And I'm tired of having to work so hard at being active. It's hard enough staying fit at 50 without having to lug these things around. I was backpacking earlier this summer with another buxom friend and we both laughed when I said, "Why do I even bother trying to keep my backpack at less than 35 lbs when I have to pack these things in? I'm at a 10 lb disadvantage. Maybe I could just leave them at home?" To which she replied, "Yea, then you could pack in 2 bottles of red wine instead!" Which got me to thinking, maybe it was time to revisit the option of breast reduction surgery?

Ready or Not, Here I Come.

I met with my PCP in May of this year and she agreed that breast reduction surgery might be an option to help relieve my neck and shoulder pain. She made a referral for PS and one for physical therapy and she also encouraged me to check out the Healthy Spines class that Kaiser offers to see if that would help with my posture in the mean time. She also recommended a lingerie shop in town that specializes in hard to fit sizes.

I was able to get in to see the PS within a few weeks, and this time around it was a much different experience. The PS was running late, so his resident came in and met with me. She was very professional and listened to what I said, even though I was totally freaked out being there. My blood pressure was 180/88 and I told her I was just very nervous and was thinking back to the bad experience I'd had 20 years ago with the small town PS. She was very sympathetic. She didn't take any pictures, just some measurements and typed up my physical complaints. A few minutes later, the PS came in, very apologetic and reviewed the resident's work. He then did ask me to disrobe again, and he checked the resident's work. He then explained the procedure to me and showed me some pictures of what the procedure would entail (Lollipop vs Anchor) and said that he didn't think it would be a problem getting insurance approval and asked me if I'd like to meet with the scheduler.

What, I thought? That was it? I'm in? What? After 20 years of dealing with these gigantic, mismatched, pendulous breasts, that's it? And then there came this flood of shame and tears, but this was my doing. Twenty years of tears in the fitting room every time I'd try on a bra or a swim suit, 20 years of puckered blouses and too-big sweaters, 20 years of anxiety and embarrassment every time I'd take my clothes off in front of a boyfriend, 20 years of self-loathing and beating myself up for something I had little control over. Why I hadn't I done this sooner?

I didn't hear too much else of what he said after that, but he shook my hand and said it was nice to meet me and he looked forward to seeing me again soon and if I had any questions to let him know. The scheduler came in and asked me if I wanted to have the surgery right away, but I told her I had a garden to tend to this summer, and if it was ok, could I wait until the fall? She said she would call me when she was putting together the fall schedule and wished me a good day.

So now the big day is 2 1/2 weeks away. I was originally scheduled for October 31st - great day to be getting those Franken-boobies - but the scheduler called last week and was able to move me up. Thankfully, my supervisor approved the time off. My pre-op visit is next week.

Some days it all feels so surreal and I wonder, should I really go through with this? I mean, I am 50. But then I catch a glimpse of myself in a store front window, or I see some cute top that I know I'll never be able to fit into, or wake up some morning with a new ache or pain in my neck or shoulder and I think yes, this is the right thing for me.

Had my post-op appointment yesterday. I think the physician assistant was more excited for me than I was. It still all seems so surreal. My BP was 122/63 so I know I wasn't stressing too badly. I told her that I was more stressed out earlier that morning when I had to drive downtown for another appointment and was faced with finding parking.

I'm a little weirded out that I haven't spent more than about 5 minutes with the surgeon. As I mentioned in my last post, he was running late for the consultation, so his resident conducted most of the appointment, and now my pre-op appointment was with his PA. She assured me that he pays great attention to detail and BR is the surgery he performs most often. And she said I'll be happy with the results. Seems many of you have consulted with several PS's before you settled on one you like. I have Kaiser insurance, and so if I want the procedure to be covered by my insurance, I don't really have many options. There's only one other plastic surgeon in the practice. But I keep thinking back to something, I think it was JerseyGirl who wrote, "you're just trading in one pair of imperfect breasts for another."

So I've filled my prescriptions and gotten my antibacterial wipes to use the night before the surgery. Don't know what time I'm scheduled for, they'll let me know the day before. I ordered a couple of post-surgical bras from MakeMeHeal.com. A little pricey, but that's what the PA recommended.

And so we'll see. I'm really surprised at how calm I feel about all this. And I'm really looking forward to laying down this load.

I'll hopefully be halfway through the procedure. Have to say I'm pleasantly surprised at how calm I feel right now. I really think that's because so many of you have shared your stories and your feelings and so I feel quite prepared for what is about to happen.

I'm the first surgery of the day tomorrow, so check in is at 6a and the procedure is scheduled for 7:30a. The expected time on the table is 2.5 hours. I live alone, so a friend has offered to take care of me at her house for a few days. Just packed my overnight bag and my tooth brush and my percoset all ready to go for the morning. Now I'll watch a little TV and hopefully get a few hours sleep before the alarm goes off and have to put that big ol' bra on for the last time!

Thanks every one for your well wishes. And to 34hto34c and GreatExpectations, I'll be thinking of you both on Friday!

I'll keep you posted.