WARNING: VOMIT-INDUCING PHOTO

PLEASE DON'T SCROLL DOWN IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE MY MUTILATED BREASTS.


I just figured full-disclosure was in order so you all can really grasp what us BC-ers deal with.

I was just inflated and the doc did about a half of what he did last time, so the pain isn't as bad and I have Percocet just in case. Or for fun. He also gave me the go-ahead to start using weights again with my arms. Bam was brave enough to both take me to the doctor and watch him inflate me and to take this photo. He rocks.

Anyway, as you will see, looking at myself in the mirror is not so pleasant these days, but I'm getting used to it. The weird nipple-like protrusions on either side are the ports into which doc injects the silicone. The 'breasts' are supposed to be uneven and really high; it's not until after the real silicone ones are swapped in that they become bodacious boobies a la Playboy. That surgery will occur a minimum of one month after chemo ends. And that's when the nips go on, which are crafted from part of my breast skin and part of my skin from the pelvic area. (At first doc joked that they'll come from the nipple bank.) Then, the color—I suppose I can choose brownish or pink nips—is tattooed on. You can bet those will be the only tattoos gracing this Jewess' bod. All this puts my final, final hurdle in mid-to-late July. I'm hoping I'll be done and done recovery and surgery wise by August.

I've got Lynn's son Michael's wedding in Vegas at the end of September and simply must look ravishing in a strapless Oscar or Valentino frock. I carry a Valentino ad with the dress I'm salivating over in my Filofax for inspiration. Whatever gets you through the day. Sadly my family thinks this is normal.

If you have a weak stomach or are a family friend and don't wish to view this, stop reading now. I'm putting the one of me in clothing first. Beware.