Alright, let’s address the title of this entry right off the bat.
My husband is coming to the second round visits for two reasons: (1) He cares about my welfare. (Yes, I am making an assumption here but I think on most days it’s actually true) and (2) He is the co-signer on all of my financial accounts. This statement makes it sound like we have sizeable accounts in Switzerland or the Grand Caymans. We do not. We do, however, have one at the local branch around the corner. There – I am important. They always have ice cold water available for me at no charge that I may drink in as many two-ounce dunce cap-shaped cups as I desire. And I’m pretty sure if I asked that they would give me a Saf-T-pop. For free.
My mom came to this visit (she couldn’t make it to Doctor 5’s second visit) because she is curious about everything and wants to be sure I’m making a good decision here. She cares. A lot. And if that makes me a dork then it’s really just one more thing to add to the list. Which grows. Every day. Especially now since I’m a … blogger.
Anyway, you know the drill. Woke up. Kids off to school. Got myself ready to go and waited for my ‘committee’ to arrive so I could leave for the appointment. My husband came back home first, then my brother came over (no, he wasn’t part of the original plan) and then my mom. No one was in a hurry to get there and get this thing done except me. My brother and my husband actually started to talk football. I resisted the urge to kill them both and managed to send my brother on his way and herd my spouse and mother into the car with me. And off we went.
This morning, we paid a second visit to Doctor 4. He’s the doctor that suggested a mini-lift and saline implants (270 to 330cc). The implants he uses (Allergan) are texturized and come with an impressive 10-year insurance policy. My friend, Vanessa, came with me last time. Remember?
We weren’t in the waiting room long before my name was called. I immediately introduced my husband and my mom and explained their presence and was met with smiles and complete understanding. (Exhale.) The three of us were escorted to an examination room by the doctor’s assistant. She was just as helpful and friendly as she was last time and put me and my entourage immediately at ease.
We chatted with her only a few minutes before the doctor came in. (I still like him so much.) He began explaining everything we talked about at my first appointment to my husband and mother to get them up to speed. I could see that they both felt comfortable with him.
Having just been to Doctor 5 again, the comparison was fresh in my mind. One of my first questions was about the texturized shells used with the saline implants. If you remember, Doctor 4 swears by them as they are said to adapt better within the chest wall and prevent scar tissue from forming around them. Doctor 5 said he feels they don’t always drop into place as well as the smooth shells following surgery. And I shared Doctor 5’s comment at this appointment.
Doctor 4 said he hasn’t had any issues with the texturized implants and said they always drop perfectly into place. He stood by their ability to maintain a pocket for themselves where they are inserted rather than becoming embedded in scar tissue. He added that prevention of scar tissue means prevention of breast hardening which can occur over the years with the smooth outer shells. Never wanting to be a guinea pig for science or progress, I asked how long these texturized shells have been available, expecting to hear somewhere in the neighborhood of five years. “Twenty-five years” was the answer.
So I’m guessing they’re tried and true then.
We talked a lot about his specific recommendations for me and asked a few questions here and there. My husband asked his same ‘What about any complications that arise during this elective surgery? Are they covered by insurance?” question. Similar to our other second round doctor, Doctor 4 said that the number one complication risk is infection but it is extremely rare. He said he personally guarantees all of his work as well as the products he uses during surgery. He said an infection can be treated, with the implant even removed if necessary, immediately and in the office. His assurance and surgical history served to satisfy all of us, especially when added to the fact that the implants carried an additional insurance policy of their own.
My mom had some questions about his recommendations. (1) Would the mini-lift do the trick for me? (My mom was the one who first made the lift diagnosis for me years ago. What? I said we were close.) (2) What effect would the implants have on my mammograms? And the doctor answered them with her the same way he did with me. (1) Yes, because of where I measured, a mini-lift should achieve the result I need without subjecting me to all of the additional incisions and thus scarring involved with a full lift. (2) With additional views taken during my mammograms, the technician should be able to achieve as full a view of my breast tissue as a patient without implants.
When everyone’s questions had been answered, I asked to see the ‘Great Big Book of Boobs’ again. And there I sat with my husband, my mom and a complete stranger flipping through page after page of saggy-to-braggy breasts. I figured my spouse had suffered through two boob appointments so I’d at least score him the book. But I hadn’t really considered the fact that he’d be looking through it with his mother-in-law. Looking back, it seemed more like a Farrelly Brothers movie than real life. Although I think I did hear him comment about someone’s “cans” while flipping through the book at some point. So maybe it wasn’t a total loss …
And now I really need some time to digest. And mull. And ponder. And contemplate, meditate, formulate, deliberate.
Great. Now I’m thinking of that stupid INXS song.
If this were a Farrelly Brothers movie, it would turn out that the doctor you picked was actually someone who had arranged the entire “Quest For Breasts” to avenge himself on your husband. The finale would happen either in his office or your home – Doctors 2 and 4 (who had lost touch since high school), you, your husband, your brother, and Vanessa. Someone would trip over a couch. The conflict between Doctor and Husband would be discovered to be a misunderstanding, The doctor would do the surgery for free, and everyone would live happily ever after.
Except the neighbor, who would be horribly disfigured in a hilarious silicone explosion at his basement breast implant manufacturing lab.
Or does that stuff just happen to me?