Things I am doing, Part II
Feb. 15th, 2011 09:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trixtahSlight TMI warning, but nothing to warrant cutting...
So there's the other thing I'm doing, and this is much more immediate and significant. It's no secret to anyone that I dislike my breasts immensely. Other than the fairly constant feeling of body dysmorphia I've had since puberty, the frigging things are humongous by any normal standard. It might be better if I had a broader chest or shoulders, but I don't. In the physical sense, I don't get headaches, but I do get shoulder aches, neck pains, sharp pain in the outer aspects of my breasts, and they inflate like painful footballs once a month.
So, finally, I've got the money and the time, so off to the wonderful doctor who basically didn't even bother asking to have a look - he wrote the referral by saying "Shoulder pain?" Nod-nod. "Back pain?" Nod-nod. "Sick of it?" Nod-nod-nod. In Australia, if you have a GP referral, part of the cost of treatment is paid for by Medicare. I am VERY GRATEFUL for this, because it reduces the cost by nearly half.
I went off to the plastic surgery clinic last week - the only one in CBR the GP would recommend - and the experience there was reassuring and professional. Of course, taking off your shirt and having the surgeon take one look and say, with a look of sympathy, "I understand why you need the surgery" is really not the most positive experience one can have. However, I know what he meant. So that was done and dusted and I said YES PLEASE to going ahead with the procedure, with full understanding of the risks. He has a portfolio of breast reductions he has done, and there was a shot of one woman who ended up partially losing a nipple. I don't care if I lose mine, although I'd rather not.
The practice manager then went through the procedure and post-operative care process, and that was fine, although she was one of those overly-groomed het women who look like they want to escape from the room rather than deal with a butch dyke. And I was wearing my work suit and speaking nicely to fox her, lol. Well, I found it entertaining.
So, after giving them about 8 grand, I will be getting my breasts reduced by half - also reducing my breast cancer risk by half (my aunt's had it, twice) - to about a C-cup size. This is fine. And I'm booked in for the 10th of March. I'm extremely excited about this, as one might imagine - in the yay! and OMFG! senses, both.
Also, don't go to a clinical setting, get poked and prodded and photographed, and then play a video game featuring zombies for most of the weekend. It gives you peculiar dreams about body parts and weirdness. :-)
So there's the other thing I'm doing, and this is much more immediate and significant. It's no secret to anyone that I dislike my breasts immensely. Other than the fairly constant feeling of body dysmorphia I've had since puberty, the frigging things are humongous by any normal standard. It might be better if I had a broader chest or shoulders, but I don't. In the physical sense, I don't get headaches, but I do get shoulder aches, neck pains, sharp pain in the outer aspects of my breasts, and they inflate like painful footballs once a month.
So, finally, I've got the money and the time, so off to the wonderful doctor who basically didn't even bother asking to have a look - he wrote the referral by saying "Shoulder pain?" Nod-nod. "Back pain?" Nod-nod. "Sick of it?" Nod-nod-nod. In Australia, if you have a GP referral, part of the cost of treatment is paid for by Medicare. I am VERY GRATEFUL for this, because it reduces the cost by nearly half.
I went off to the plastic surgery clinic last week - the only one in CBR the GP would recommend - and the experience there was reassuring and professional. Of course, taking off your shirt and having the surgeon take one look and say, with a look of sympathy, "I understand why you need the surgery" is really not the most positive experience one can have. However, I know what he meant. So that was done and dusted and I said YES PLEASE to going ahead with the procedure, with full understanding of the risks. He has a portfolio of breast reductions he has done, and there was a shot of one woman who ended up partially losing a nipple. I don't care if I lose mine, although I'd rather not.
The practice manager then went through the procedure and post-operative care process, and that was fine, although she was one of those overly-groomed het women who look like they want to escape from the room rather than deal with a butch dyke. And I was wearing my work suit and speaking nicely to fox her, lol. Well, I found it entertaining.
So, after giving them about 8 grand, I will be getting my breasts reduced by half - also reducing my breast cancer risk by half (my aunt's had it, twice) - to about a C-cup size. This is fine. And I'm booked in for the 10th of March. I'm extremely excited about this, as one might imagine - in the yay! and OMFG! senses, both.
Also, don't go to a clinical setting, get poked and prodded and photographed, and then play a video game featuring zombies for most of the weekend. It gives you peculiar dreams about body parts and weirdness. :-)