This week I joined the 700 club. Well, not THE 700 club. I joined the 700cc club. I walked into the office bragging on facebook about how it was my last fill. Today’s my last fill. Hey, did you know today’s my last fill? Guess what? Today’s my last fill. See you bitches in two months when I have my surgery ‘cuz today’s my last fill. All of my family knew. Friends knew. Pretty much anyone I’ve talked to in the last two weeks. I am pretty sure all of you knew that as well. I even sang it in the car on the way to the office…Toooodaaaaay is mmmyyyyy lassssttttt fill-illllll.

Of course, not that you’ll be surprised but – what happened?! I sat down on the exam table, unzipped my bra, got ready for my doc to inspect my expanders before “approving” a fill…and he approved it and said things are looking great. He then sat down next to me and talked me into two more fills. That’s what I get for celebrating before the “play in question” is called. No touchdown. 5 yard penalty.

The good thing is I have a surgery date (Dec. 7)! And two more fills won’t impact this date. Thank God! I’m not too happy about having two more fills, but I have the room for them and I have the time. Everyone says they regret not going bigger when they think they want to go smaller. We’ll see how 800cc of fills does. This means I’ll have a 700 cc implant. To most people that would be HUGE…but to someone with no breast tissue, it’s just huge. (Probably a full D)

In the middle of all of this, I’ve finally gotten my meds (for the most-part) worked out. Although I’m slowly increasing to the therapeutic dose of Lyrica, I have times during the day where it feels like I’ve been slipped a roofie (roophie? roophy? How do you spell that?). From about 1-3:30 I literally feel like I have to power-through general anesthesia and try to stay awake – it’s that strong of a “sleepy” feeling. Hopefully that will wear off soon because I have notes from meetings (phone meetings) that aren’t even legible. I think I know what I meant to write down. I guess we’ll know when I begin writing the training documents for whatever it was we were meeting about. At this point, I’m really just trying to keep some sort of normalcy right now by going to work and being excited about my job. It’s hard though when you’re on strong meds and just really don’t care about anything other than getting these damn expanders out. Speaking of…I wonder if the doc will let me keep them after he takes them out so that I can take them to the shooting range after I’m all healed and use them for target practice?? 🙂 It’s the least he can do. I’ve had a harder time with expansion than anyone would have ever guessed. I am due some sort of therapeutic release like shooting at my expanders with an Uzi. I’m not asking for much here doc. Just some retribution.

It helps to have people around me that understand the frustration that comes from having expanders. I had lunch with my friend a few weeks ago that had surgery in January and got her implants in May. It’s fun sitting in a restaurant and saying things like: “I just don’t think I want nipples. I just want tattoos.” “Ooh girl I hear ya. Who wants to wear a bra again after all of this?” “For real. I think that tattoo is enough and it’s 3D. It’ll look fine. It’s not like we can feel them anyways.” (loud laughter) “And girl you know they are just gonna outlive us. We might as well enjoy tshirts without bras.” “Guuurrrl you’re gonna feel so much better once those bricks get removed from your chest.” That’s pretty much the conversation we had. I sure love every moment I get to sit and talk to someone that’s been through this or is going through this. We all have such different experiences…but so many similarities. Of course, everyone feels guilty telling me their “easy as pie” story since mine has been so difficult. I try to let everyone know that there’s no need to feel bad or feel guilty. We all knew that my issues were possibilities for anyone to experience. I’m just the fortunate one that needs more lessons in life than they do. lol I’m not bitter or anything at all so I hate seeing my comrades feel bad for having it better than I’ve had it. I’m seeing the finish line, so hopefully they can all find solace in knowing that I’m almost done too. And either way, we get to laugh about side hugs, heads of lettuce and nipples. Can’t beat that kind of camaraderie for anything in this world right now.

(Speaking of…here’s a pic of me in a shirt given to me by my lunch friend. I love it.)