Hovering in the gray.....

In my life, the times of greatest stress are in the times of the unknown -- when answers would give one direction, but no answers are being given.

I've known since October that things with The Boob Job are going WRONG to a depressing degree. I've also known a certain "hold time" was needed. In this surgery, it can take up to six months for things to 'settle' to their finished location. I'm only 4 months post-op now, but it's CLEAR the direction isn't going to get better. If anything, things are just going to continue to get worse. Even in knowing that, time was needed for answers to be given.

And in that time, I've been slowly going bat shit insane.

It took me a lot of debate, inner strength, courage, to even take part in the surgery. There was the constant battle of the risk versus just "being okay" with what nature did to me. I've always hated this part of my anatomy from the time the boobs started to sprout. Anyone who's heard me on stage knows it all already. I tried, as best as I could, to develop a sense of humor about it but ultimately I knew...... I can't live like this forever.

Taking the leap of faith to have it done was a GIGANTIC jump for me.
To have it go wrong, so horribly wrong, has been weighing on me like lead.

I look in the mirror and think, "This is worse. Nature was nature. I chose to do this to myself...."

.... but it's not what I chose. Things went wrong.

So you think, "Okay, let's fix it...." but logic and reason says, "You can't right now, so live in the gray area...."

and that is where I become unhinged.



For 10 years, I had a sibling missing. She literally disappeared. We didn't know if she was dead, alive and in hiding -- there were no answers. There were times we would scream for them, with nothing coming back but silence. She's alive and well. Against the odds we have found her, but in those 10 years that not knowing was more painful than grief. How do you mourn someone if you don't know if they're dead? How do you get angry at someone for leaving if they're dead and you don't know it?



For years I was told I'd never have children. I miscarried four times. In the time of not knowing I didn't know what to feel. Grieve for the possibility of never being a mother? Hold on to hope that the doctors were wrong?



These are the times in my life when I am not the strong woman people assume I am. The not knowing is what shakes me. I can KNOW a horrid truth and deal with it. I can KNOW something unpleasant and DEAL WITH IT..... if I know what I am to tackle, and what I am supposed to deal WITH.




Today, I'm headed to the doctors. Today I get answers: Will he be fixing my botched boobs at no expense to me, or after the first of the year do I start looking for good malpractice lawyers? Those are the two roads ahead, and having to sit and look at both has been driving me insane.

I've withdrawn a lot. I have had emotional outbursts that are uncharacteristic, even for me. I have been moody and sullen. I've lost a LOT of my sassy confidence as a woman, feeling very weighed down by such a part of me that defines "Woman" in the physical sense.

Another surgery will mean down-time. Work missed. A good month or so where I can't hug my children or make love to my husband without caution. Another surgery will involve more healing pain, more stitches, more drains, more discomfort. ALL OF THAT.... isn't pleasant, but I can HANDLE it.

Legal battles? Fuck, who wants to deal with THAT? But I will. With my head high. If that's the road this takes, I can HANDLE it.

Living in the unknown between the two scenarios has been eating away at me.

I know a lot of people think this is just about tits, but it's not. And honestly, shame on YOU if that's all you're hearing. It's not about The Perfect Rack. It's about feeling normal. It's about feeling comfortable in your own skin. It's about feeling HUMAN when so much of you your whole life has been evidence to the contrary. I've taken all of Nature's practical jokes against my physical self and made a LIVING out of laughing along with the joke.

But this surgery going wrong feels like a MEAN joke -- the mean spirited humor I don't take part in. There is a difference between humor that is honest yet heart-felt and humor out of spite and anger. I'm ANGRY at my BOOBS. I'm angry at the surgery. I'm angry that when I FINALLY opted to FIX THIS..... it went wrong.

Answers will be given today.
I'm ready for either side of it.
I just need to know WHAT side of it it's going to lean toward. The "not knowing" has gone on LONG ENOUGH.