Is more than a 'handful' a waste ?!!

So all you beautiful ladies with big boobs let me tell you about my pre-op appointment and invite you to share the second instalment of 'Boob Job Blog' ! Oh and anyone with boobs is welcome to read whatever your cup size, I embrace you all !

And if you've stumbled across this post first, you can always follow the link below to read from the beginning :)

http://viewfromtheloungewindow.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-as-easy-as-abc-or-ddeor-f-cup.html

Is more than a 'handful' a waste ?!!

So it’s fair to say that I woke last Wednesday morning with a start, the first and foremost on my mind was holy sh*t will I make the weigh in today at the pre-op?! You see to meet the weight criteria for this operation you have to have a certain BMI otherwise they ask you to lose weight instead! I mean, we've just had Christmas for God’s sake (well Jesus’ I guess!), with booze, food, all manner of things chocolate and vast quantities of them at that. Oh and I’ve also been a lazy cow too, sleeping in late and generally living the life of a sloth, in fact a sloth that has just been crowned laziest sloth in the world! So there was me, rummaging through my wardrobe,  I needed to find the perfect outfit that combined lightness of fabric with boob enhancing powers. You see for all the extra lbs I've put on over Christmas, my damn boobs are looking smaller than ever?! Now this cannot be true, the fact is they've always been huge whatever my weight, so how come now just when I need them to look their largest do they seem nothing short of 'normal' size ?! I know I’m being ridiculous I realise that the reality is that they haven't changed size and even if they had, it wouldn't be enough to disqualify me from having the op, but all the same I'm flapping a bit.

With outfit chosen, a light floaty summer dress but with DM boots and woolly tights (well it is Jan)! I drop Little Miss H off at school, plug in the sat nav and head straight to the hospital. I arrive and find my way to the correct department, despite the hospital being the size of a small country with colour coded buildings, (somewhat Balamory style) and fill in the necessary forms in order to start my pre-op ball rolling.

While I wait, I'm settled in a side waiting room which is lovely and plush (the hospital is new and swanky and still smells of fresh paint), however instead of my hero Matthew Wright (did I mention I've been on that show?) they have Jeremy Vile (Kyle) on the flat screen TV on the wall and to cap it all I'm too small to reach up and change the channel! Dear God it's hideous and after 10 mins I'm actually contemplating asking someone to change it for me, but just then another couple walk in to fill their forms out and they start watching it with verve! If I'm honest they look like they should be on the show so I don't complain and instead resort to Twitter and decide to keep my head down (but my boobs well and truly stuck out!).

So finally after a 25 minute Jeremy Kyle afflicted wait, including various DNA results, a full blown fight and Jeremy resorting to 'sitting ' on the step ! The lovely nurse Alison comes to rescue me.

Now, Alison is just wonderful, she’s friendly, kind, informative, efficient and speaks with the softest scouse accent known to man....I mean I'm still a Southerner deep down and even my pseudo Northerness can't cope with strong accents especially this early in the morning!

So my pre-op checks commence, I have blood tests, my BP taken and nose swabs and all is going great so far........but then it's time for the weigh in!

The time has come for me to face my fear, now Alison is a professional through and through but I can tell even she is getting pissed off at the amount of kerfuffle I am creating before agreeing to get on the scales. Ok she really doesn't need to be told repeatedly that we've just had Christmas, so that's the reason I may be slightly over the required BMI, nor does she need to stand around waiting for me to remove, coat, boots, cardigan, watch oh and I'm ashamed to say earrings. Only then to be told to hang on just two ticks whilst I go for a wee!  (well you never know, it might mean I weigh an ounce less ?) She shakes her head and with a wry smile throws a sample bottle in my direction, telling me to fill it and 'kill two birds with one stone'! Bless her she is so patient with me and even tells me that the machine measures height slightly on the short side so that's probably why my BMI is a teeny tiny bit over the limit. Mission accomplished, I vow to lose the 2lbs by Monday and she says no problem. She laughs and I very much hope it's with me and not at me?

I'm more settled now that the tests and checks are over and done with and we head back to the cosy little waiting room. We discuss in detail the plan for the day of admittance, the likely recovery time and I've been set the challenge of coming up with a 'cup' size that I want the surgeon to create! I'm not too sure how I'm going to decide on that but I'll think about it over the weekend. Although it will more than likely involve, fondling my closest friend’s breasts (this may also include any of my male friends with moobs)! and then deciding which ones I like the feel, shape and size of  best!

Hmm which ones shall I pick ????

Feeling happier, I was all set to disappear when Alison said that on my way out could I stop off at photography to have my photos taken? What? Was this some new security procedure whereby I need a photo id card to prove that I'm a patient? Sadly no, Alison explained that I needed to have photos of my boobs taken for the surgical team. Now any sane person would of course have realised this, I mean after all I've looked at hundreds of before and after pics of breast reductions on the Internet, so why did this come as quite the big surprise that it did?

Off I trotted up to the 3rd floor to 'photography', it's a proper department you know, with a reception, TV and even flowers! Again I was met by a very obliging hospital photographer, who just happened to be a man.  After reading my little yellow card which had BREAST REDUCTION stamped across it, he promptly rang for a chaperone (not sure whether that was for me or him!) As luck would have it, the angel Alison appeared before us and helped make light of my impending modelling shoot! Rather surprisingly and even more so terrifyingly, I discovered that the 'studio' was exactly that, a pucker set up, with lamps, umbrellas, a chair and a clinical looking screen which I had to go behind and strip down to my waist. All that was missing was a leopard skin throw, soft lighting and some mood music! At this point you’ll have to forgive me but I was beginning to wonder if I was taking part in some dodgy glamour shoot (although I'm far from glamorous)!

My only consolation during this hideous embarrassment was that the photographer seemed equally, if not more flustered by the whole episode and kept tripping over his words and repeatedly assuring me that at no point would my head be in the picture. To which I replied 'well what kind of a photographer are you if you keep cutting people’s heads off?!' It was a crap joke I know, but I just needed to divert the attention away from my NAKED BOOBS! That said, he was a pleasant enough bloke given the uncomfortableness of the occasion and even though it crossed my mind to ask if he did family portraits 'on the side’?, instead I quickly dressed, said a massive thank you to Alison (I actually hugged her?) and hurriedly left!

Reflecting back on the day... now with a smile, I can only look forward to my new boobs arriving soon. I have the weekend to prepare and shop around ready to order my brand new sparkly bangers on Monday and I won't deny that I'm a little excited as well as full of anticipation. I know it's a major operation but I'm ready and waiting and I'm hoping that my recovery will be uncomplicated and relatively quick. (hey, well I do have a ski trip booked in 8 weeks!)

So with a deep breath, I finally think I'm ready......well here goes ......! To be continued.....