Tag Archives: “Old Dog New Tits”

This blog entry is the hardest one I’ve written to date


Will insurance cover any complications that arise during elective surgery?

Remember the question my husband keeps asking the doctors … and how the answer we keep hearing is basically … NO?  For this reason, all breast doctors want you to get a mammogram before surgery.  Some doctors (Doctor 1 in our case) even want you to get a full physical workup. By doing so and ruling out any potential health issues beforehand, your risk of problems during surgery drop to almost nothing.

Seemed like a pretty good idea to me. Plus I haven’t had a good workup in years.  “Years” meaning never.  So, I decided to bite the bullet and submit to a complete medical examination and all the joys that go along with it.  It’s always good to know where your health stands anyway, right? I called my regular doctor … which resulted in a general exam (weight, blood pressure, etc.), blood tests and a surprise PAP (and it wasn’t even my birthday) yesterday as well as chest x-rays and an EKG today.

Some, not all, of the results are in.  The blood work is fine.  Always good to hear. Unfortunately, the chest x-ray (the first I’ve ever received) is not.

I have a tumor. On my right lung.  On the pleura (lining) of my right lung.  Which, apparently, if you’re going to have a tumor on your lung is the best place to have it.  About the size of a ping pong ball.  Or a jawbreaker.  Believe it or not, this was debated for a few minutes.

They don’t know what it is. So, I’m going in for a cat scan tomorrow. My husband and my parents know. And two of my good friends.  And now you.

For the record, yes, I am concerned.  More so than with the breast lump we discovered six weeks ago.  And pissed off with myself for being concerned.  I have a good friend in the hospital who is actually having surgery tomorrow to have a mass removed.  If you send out any good vibes tonight, send them to her.  She needs them.  I need a good night’s sleep. And maybe a valium. I’ll be fine.

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How slammed is your life when a garbage run can’t fit into your busy hoarding schedule?


During my travels today, I came across this car … and I’m wondering if anyone else finds it as disturbing as I do.

These pictures really don’t do it justice. The windows were (mercifully) up and I snapped these shots with an iPhone camera very quickly … sort of from within my shirt … as I was keenly aware (read: hysterically paranoid) that I could be tackled from behind at any moment by a crazed hoarder.

Clearly, this person has no family as the only accessible (and I use the term very loosely) seat in the car is the driver’s seat. Also, I can’t be certain but I think he has a GREAT love of fountain-style cola beverages. As well as many other assorted snacks and, apparently, all of their valuable containers and packagings. I saw everything from paper cups, frozen dinner trays, political flyers, styrofoam bits, etc.

This car, which I inappropriately circled several times with my mouth literally hanging open, absolutely mesmerized me.  I have always been someone who my family and friends would classify as the polar opposite of a hoarder.  A minimalist.  A neat freak even. I tried to google a comparable, clinical term for my affliction but the best I could find was ‘purger.’ 

Yeah, I didn’t like it either.  Sounds like a very different type of affliction to me.

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The Ghosts of ODNT Past


As promised, I’ve been thinking a lot about everything. And reviewing my thoughts from the last (almost) three months.  I sat in a coffee shop for hours recently … sifting through every single one of my blog entries to date … searching for clues of where my real feelings lie.  And I don’t even drink coffee!  Chamomile tea and a banana managed to sustain my right to loiter at the bar on my laptop all that time.

Anyway, over the course of my walk through ODNTs past, I came up with the following little jewels …

  • August 22,2011I sort of feel like I want to reclaim some of who and what I was before becoming a mother. Physically, I was a woman with a flat stomach and boobs in the right place.
  • August 26, 2011I am unhappy with my post-breastfeeding body and I am merely looking to restore it to its original form. I am not, repeat NOT, looking to Pamela Anderson-ize myself.
  • August 31,2011They’ve never been huge. But, at one time, they were at least what I would have called “inflated” … as well as situated correctly on my chest.  (And from later in the same entry)  So I started thinking about it. And checking myself out in front of the mirror, lifting things up to where they used to be. To where they’re supposed to be.
  • September 14, 2011She (Doctor 1) said that, particularly on a smaller person like myself, oversized breasts will actually create a look of added weight overall on a woman’s frame.
  • September 22, 2011She (the mammogram technician) said that, while there are arguments stating that under-the-muscle placement does decrease the odds of an implant causing a visual obstruction in a mammogram, there are still no guarantees that a problem couldn’t form behind that implant and thereby be invisible to the technicians. Cancer cells, tumors and other problems can occur anywhere in the breast tissue so no placement is one hundred percent foolproof.
  • October 8, 2011He (Doctor 5) said that the biggest mistake women make is going too big or too wide. He added that women should look to correct and improve the shape of their breasts and not just be worried about their volume. He actually said smaller breasts are “more elegant,” which I’m pretty sure makes me Audrey Hepburn.
  • October 30, 2011Okay. I’m definitely getting a lift. That’s the one thing every doctor … and even my mom … agreed on.

I feel like I’m finally starting to get a little clarity here.  And I’m finally starting to see the answer through the murky fog and haze.  Maybe.

Does anyone else see it, too?

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A sudden and unexpected visit back to Doctor 1


Doctor report number NINE. I can’t tell you how much I’m pushing myself to write this one. And … believe it or not … for the first time since this project began, I did not take any notes during this appointment.  I planned to take notes. I even brought my little breast doctor notebook with me, confirmed that I had a functioning pen (there are never any guarantees in my world) and opened both of them as I waited for the doctor to come in. Literally poised to begin scribbling.

But I took none and, thus, we are limited to the confines of my memory for details about this big event.  God help us all.

Anyway … as I mentioned a few days ago, I decided rather spontaneously that (along with Doctors 4&5) I wanted to give Doctor 1 a second visit.  ‘Spontaneously’ is sort of true and sort of not true.  Doctor 1 has never left my mind (and, apparently, the mind of a few other readers as well).  I mentioned that I was still thinking about her as we entered round two (10/20/11)  and even made a follow-up appointment with her office at that time that I was forced to cancel due to a family issue. So, a few days ago, I stopped hemming and hawing about the whole thing and called her office. And she was able to see me immediately. My husband was not able to rearrange his schedule this week to come, so my mom came along for the appointment.

We got there a few minutes late and the staff was already waiting for us so we went right in.  Doctor 1 came in, met my mom and we got to talking about everything immediately. I was pleased/delighted/tickled (whatever, you get the point) to learn that she’s been keeping up with the blog and thus knew a lot of what I’d been told along the way.

I explained to her that I had gotten caught up in “blog fever” and was following the direct path dictated by the voting … but that her name had never left the front burners of my brain. I explained that, while I felt very fortunate to be choosing from two great doctors for a mini-lift/implants combination surgery, her recommendation of a full lift and very possibly no implants sounded like a good option for me as well.

Didn’t I start this whole thing saying I felt saggy from years of breastfeeding?  It’s really problem one that I was (and am) looking to solve.  I never wanted to make myself huge.

My mother and I talked to Doctor 1 about everything we’ve learned so far from the other doctors.  For the record, Doctor 1 is a saline as well as an over-the-muscle believer.  I was on the same page with her on the first point but was unsure about the second.  But we weren’t really talking implants at this point.  We were talking full lifts.  And, while she certainly made me feel as though she’s seen much worse cases than mine in this area, we both agreed that it would be the easiest and least complicated way to get me to my goal of physical, pre-breastfeeding restoration.

Further, she’s not a big proponent at all of the whole mini-lift. She says the crescent incision on the top of the nipple does very little to raise things up and often the nipple stretches to fill in the areas where it was and where it is now creating a rather oversized end result.

I think at this point I actually volunteered to take my top off.  It was the best way for Doctor 1 to explain to my mother the technique involved with the full lift.  So, off came my top and out came her breastmarking pen.  (I’m guessing it must have other uses but who knows?)  Inking in the exact placement of the cuts really enabled both of us to see exactly how things would fall (or rather rise) in place. And this literal blueprint allowed me to bring the proposed plan home to my husband so he’d be in the know about everything, too.

Now, we were ready to see some before and after pictures. Doctor 1 took us into her office and shared them from her computer.  (I want to point out that she is the only doctor who personally handles the “aftertalk” of pictures, finances and other questions with her patients. Everyone else had an assistant. I like this personal touch.) Again, she showed us images of several women who opted merely for a full lift over implants, or perhaps went that route after removing implants from a botched job.  And these ladies all looked great.  Very natural. The higher, more consolidated breast tissue actually seemed (visually) to increase the overall volume on some level.  Or so I thought.  And, with a full lift-only surgery, there would be less risk and overall maintenance.  Definitely something to think about.

My mother asked my husband’s ‘What about insurance and complications arising from elective surgery?’ question. Doctor 1 was very frank. She said ultimately that any complications brought on by this surgery would not be covered by insurance. But then she said a few things that enabled me to exhale.  First of all, she said that every patient who undergoes this and similar procedures in her practice must first submit to a complete physical (in addition to the mammogram required by all other doctors) to rule out the potential for any health anomalies or other irregularities that can occur during surgery.  She said that approximately once a year they discover a health issue in a patient that prevents the surgery from moving forward.  Of course, it’s never a big deal because it is caught beforehand.

Once a patient’s health is cleared through the physical, the chance of a complication arising during the surgery is very slim.  She said that she has had only one person come down with an infection since Katrina (the Hurricane – it’s still how we classify things chronologically in New Orleans – it’s like saying ‘B.C.’ around here) and she was able to treat her quickly and easily with oral antibiotics.  She added that, like the other surgeons we interviewed in round two, she fully guarantees her work and would not charge a patient for any repair or revisions that might be necessary.

I left the office feeling very good about the appointment. I was glad my mom had gotten the chance to meet Doctor 1 and ask her questions but sorry that my husband had missed it.  We walked to the car together and I felt my stomach turn at the thought of writing yet another doctor report.

Oh, and I made a mental note to drive very carefully so as to avoid any kind of accident.  Mothers talk a lot about the importance of ‘clean underwear’ in these situations but I don’t ever remember hearing any warnings about the potential embarrassment of strategically inked-up boobs in a crisis.  And, for the record, I’ve showered three times since this appointment and I’m still wearing the markings.  They’re a little faded but I could still totally demonstrate Doctor 1’s proposed full lift technique in a pinch. (Pardon the pun.)

And now, I need to go think about this whole thing.  A lot.  So much so that I sort of expect my brain to start smoking.

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Every good (boob) story has to have a plot twist


According to Wikipedia …

A plot twist is a change in the expected direction or outcome of the plot of a film, television series, video game, novel, comic or other fictional work. It is a common practice in narration used to keep the interest of an audience, usually surprising them with a revelation.

Today, I did something without telling anyone in advance.  I went to see Doctor 1 again, this time with my mom.  I really wish my husband could have come with me, too, but my decision to return to this doctor was so spontaneous that his work schedule wouldn’t allow it.

If you recall, she was the first doctor I met.  She listened to what I had to say and recommended that, if anything, we start with a lift, a full one, to bring me back to my pre-pregnancy, pre-breastfeeding body.  Further, she recommended that we leave it at that for now.  Once healed from that surgery, I could later decide if I still wanted augmentation which would be handled in a separate surgery.  She said many of her patients are so satisfied with the lift that they opt out of the second (augmentation) surgery.

Some “twists” are foreshadowed and can thus be predicted by many viewers/readers, whereas others are a complete shock.

On October 20th, in an entry entitled Round 2 – A Second Visit to Boob Doctor 5 (this time with the spouse along for the ride), I wrote “Doctor 1 is still in the back of my mind, too.  I like that she is a she. I like that I told her about my blog.  I like that she was willing to digest everything I learned from all of the other doctors with me.  I had actually made a follow-up appointment with her as well but had to cancel due to a family illness.  She’s still floating around in my brain somewhere.”

When a plot twist happens near the end of a story, especially if it changes one’s view of the preceding events, it is known as a twist ending.

So, I rescheduled with Doctor 1 again and went to this appointment with my (wonderfully supportive) mom today.  We had another very positive experience with her and I learned that she has, in fact, been checking in with ODNT.  So let’s send her a big shout out in case she’s reading today.  (Hi, Doctor 1!)

Holy crap, I have a lot to think about. And I can’t BELIEVE I just assigned myself another damned report to write.  This will be my … (gulp) … ninth!

I promise it’s coming soon.  Along with my decision.

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My young daughter’s “Ultimate Wedding Dress”


I love ‘Fall Back’ weekend. The extra hour I get always feels like three or four to me and, frankly, I think we should do it every weekend. Who among us can’t use the spare time?

By the time my head hit the pillow last night, I was exhausted from my extra hour (that I had actually used for sleeping the night prior so I really can’t explain my fatigue). I slept decently (despite the cat’s hourly efforts at sabotage) and woke up pretty easily since the sun rose earlier. I figured maybe my kids would, too. Wrong.

When I went into my son’s room, I found him sound asleep and fairly unresponsive to my (sometimes literal) wake up song and dance, as is the norm on any day where school is in session. When I went into my daughter’s room, I found her equally unconscious. But when I pulled back her covers to wake her, I discovered that she was already dressed for the day. Apparently, she woke up bright and early on her own this morning, glanced at her as-yet-unchanged little girl watch and dressed for school in the den by herself. She never found it odd that her parents and older brother were all still out cold in their beds. Then, at some point, seeing the accurate kitchen clock and realizing her mistake, she decided simply to return to her room and grab an extra hour of sleep. Which is how I found her all tucked away in her bed.

But what a timesaver it was this morning!

Anyway, in honor of my little nut job, I am sharing yet another drawing she prepared specifically for this blog. I’m not sure why she’s designing wedding gowns now but I don’t usually ask such questions. And I’m wondering what my friend, Suzanne (a professional designer in this industry) will think of her very unique creation. I mean, there are cherry pits actually sewn into the ruffle.  You saw it here first, my friends.

Introducing the Ultimate Wedding Dress …

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The polls are open. Time to get your vote on.


Okay, so there is still a funk lingering in the air around here … and I’m understandably queasy about putting up this poll … but we must move forward to avoid getting left behind, right?  If you’ve been following along, you most likely have an opinion on the backbone of this blog.  And I want it.  Here and now.  Please take a look at the poll below, pick your answer and feel free to elaborate in the comment boxes below.  Few choices in life are black and white and I’m happy to entertain all of your explanations, thoughts, musings, mantras, recipes, jingles, song lyrics, poetry, tongue twisters, grocery lists, etc.

Oh, and I wanted to include a comment left by a regular ODNT reader and fellow blogger. Unlike some readers here, this individual and I have never met before so this opinion comes completely unbiased and fully anonymous.

What can I say about the decision of whether to go ahead with this? As you acknowledged, this is ultimately your choice to make. The fact that you’re hesitating is no surprise, because it’s a pretty big expense, and having your body modified isn’t a choice that should be taken lightly. I think if the side of your inner Sybil who thinks you should scrap the whole idea has been coming out often (or speaking loudly), maybe you should wait. But if you feel good about the whole idea and it only makes you nervous occasionally, you’ll probably have no regrets after going through with it.

– If you back out, you’ll probably be comfortable with the knowledge that you saved some money and avoided some minor but very real risks. But you might always look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I could have gotten some fabulous new ta-tas, and I chickened out! What was I thinking?”

– If you go through with it, I’m positive you’ll be happy with the way you look. You’ll get an instant and long-lasting boost to your self-image. You and your husband will have lots of fun playing with the new toys. But you might forever feel selfish, frivolous, and vain.

Gut instinct, without over-thinking it, which of these two situations seems more likely to eat at you?

If that doesn’t help, just ask yourself how likely you are to be stabbed in the chest, or have a Hezbollah rocket shot at you. Some extra padding out there could save your life

Ugh.  I’m high in the air … looking down … out of the open door of the plane. The houses look tiny and the people like ants. I sure hope this thing on my back is a parachute and not my daughter’s iCarly backpack. Here I go …

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Blog Entry about Nothing


I tried to write today. Honest.

My biggest problem … besides being in a general sort of funk … is that I somehow managed to delete my ideas list from my phone. I never claimed to be a genius, did I? But, even without my list (aka lifeline), I still had a few tricks up my sleeve so you’d think I’d be fine, right?

Wrong. And so I began processing my thoughts …

(1) Hey! What about the next Name Those Boobs game? Nah, too soon.

(2) Well, duh. What about the next vote? No, no, no. I am not ready. Not today. No.

(3) What about that thing I saw about Denise Richards’ concerns about her implants and her daughters? No. Her situation is very different from mine. She was 19 and I am … not 19. And she admittedly went too big and is worried about her girls’ constant exposure to the great emphasis put on her appearance as an actress. Not really my issue.

(4) What about that story I saw about the new studies linking light drinking and breast cancer? No. It was the lamest, most slopped together story that seemed unfounded and basically went nowhere fast.

And so it went … with idea after idea after idea … all evening until I flipped on the TV and mindlessly tuned in to an old episode of Seinfeld.

Which gave me the idea to write this ‘Blog Entry about Nothing.’

I literally lay in my bed and typed it sideways on my phone (really bringing the expression ‘phoning it in’ to life). I promise better things tomorrow. At least I hope I do.

Gotta get out of this funk.

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A Halloween Story written BY my daughter FOR this blog. Is that weird?


Ever since I published her ‘Nerd Girl’ creation  (If Nerds could be Superheroes), my daughter has been hellbent on making the blog again.  She came home from school today with this Halloween composition … written just for me and (apparently) all ODNT readers.  I liked it … and found it not surprisingly offbeat.  And so, without further ado, I present to you my girl’s second blog submission  – The Mysterious Treat Trick.

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My multiple personalities are fighting again


Okay, let’s get back to our ODNT roots here.  We’ve been through five preliminary consultations, two follow-up appointments and one scary emergency mammogram and ultrasound together.  We’ve talked about botched boobs, troublemaking boobs, giNORmous boobs, mystery boobs, saggy boobs, perky boobs, slapping boobs, foreign boobs, holiday boobs, famous boobs, dancing boobs, old boobs, stabbed boobs, insured boobs and uniboobs.

But we’re not done yet.

We still have a big decision to make, don’t we?  I will be calling for a vote down to one doctor in the next few days.  (Don’t vote on this post though please.  The poll will be up soon.)

Anyway, if you think I’ve already made my decision, think again.  One minute I’m looking in the mirror, checking myself out and thinking …

“Okay.  I’m definitely getting a  lift. That’s the one thing every doctor … and even my mom … agreed on.    And I should probably get a little inflation.  Just a little.  I don’t want to be too big.   After all this research and soul searching, I really should do something for myself. Everyone knows that moms don’t stop and do things for themselves enough, right? Come on, Michele. Don’t be such a wuss. 

And then the next minute, I’m all …

“I can’t do this. This is crazy. There are risks. And there are starving people in Africa … and tuition to pay …. and house notes and electric bills and other debts. We’re not rich people.  How can I spend this kind of cash on my boobs?!!?

Yes, yes, I know. I’ve exposed my inner Sybil.  The pendulum of the human psyche.  The fight (sometimes to the death) between the right brain and the left brain.  Sybil presents herself from time to time in all of us when making big decisions. Most people call it vacillating, wavering, overanalyzing.  I just call it a Sybil moment. (If you aren’t familiar with this classic movie, look it up.  Sally Field.  Good stuff.  Long before her current stint on Brothers & Sisters.)

My point? I’m still not sure what to do.  And yes … while ultimately it is my decision to make and I will have the final say … my family, my friends and YOU will also be playing a very important advisory role for me.  You’ve basically come on every one of these appointments with me.  You’ve heard everything these doctors have had to say.  We’ve learned about full lifts, median lifts and mini-lifts together.  And the incisions and scarring associated with all of them. We’ve learned about the pros and cons of saline versus silicone.  And about texturized implant shells.  And we’ve learned about ccs – and how they can SO make a difference. We learned about fat injections as a new augmentation alternative. We’ve learned about an implant’s effect on mammography. And so on … and so on …. and so on …

So, since we’re all experts now, I’m asking that you please take a minute to look back over the appointments.  At a minimum, please review the Doctor 4 and Doctor 5 reports, first  and second round if I may be so bold as to ask.  Both of these doctors are excellent and I would be in good hands either way.

But … which doctor is the best fit for me?

Or … should I leave well enough alone and scrap the whole damned thing?

This is the moment of truth.  Please read over whatever you need to help me decide … and then be on the look out for the next round of voting in a few days. I LOVE you people for riding shotgun with me throughout everything. 🙂

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