Chapter 26 — Surgery

The date was scheduled for my breast augmentation surgery, and I stayed in Chicago as long as I could because I wanted to finish a project I was working on, even though Ms. Harris said it was okay to go home early. I arrived home about three days before surgery and had one more meeting with Dr. Paul to discuss the procedure and follow-up care. I chose the incision location based on what she thought worked the best and her experience — followed by more bloodwork. Dr. Paul gave me prescriptions for medications and asked me if I had purchased the post-op bras I’d needed during recovery. I went to the pharmacy to have the prescriptions filled and found they had a few post-op bras in stock if I required more. I had purchased the ones listed on Dr. Paul’s website. I assumed they were only functional and not for daily wear out of the house. They were dull white and not nearly cute enough for my liking. Or to sneak a peek out from under a blouse or top for a handsome guy to notice.

The night before my procedure, Gwen came by that night, and Mother cooked us one of our favorite meals she made when we were kids. It was great seeing and talking to her. I chose to only have one glass of wine because of my procedure tomorrow (truthfully, I had two glasses of wine). I sure love my sister. She still had an envious tan from her honeymoon in Barbados. The question came up of what she thought should happen to Kenny.

“Kenny, who?” She said, smiling. I told her he was already at the Goodwill to be assigned to foster homes, and Mom explains the European idea.

“Europe is fine with me.” Gwen waved goodbye.

We talked about her wedding and how much fun I had helping Mom, and the honor of being involved.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night after work, Savannah. Love, you.” I gave her and Mom a kiss and headed upstairs. I headed to bed since I had to be up early for my procedure. Gwen couldn’t spend the night because she had to work in the morning. I melted into the amazing canopy bed when I thought, and I will take it back with me this time. I was out cold in dreamland in seconds.

The next morning it thought how much I’d miss my afternoon runs or gym workouts for several weeks. I didn’t like not having to wear makeup to the procedure. I had to use Sis’s room in the morning since it still had a showerhead, so I used it to wash the special pre-surgery soap.

Mother is so nice. She got me to the hospital at 5:45 AM. I was looking forward to being sedated so that I could sleep some more. After being prepped by the nurses, Dr. Paul came in a little after seven and said I would be her first day’s procedure. She re-explained the procedure, where the incision would be, and reconfirmed the size and type of implants that she would insert. Dr. Paul marked my incision point under my pecs with a marking pen. Last, she asked Mother and me if I had any questions.

Soon after her, a cute young armed services anesthesiologist talked to me and injected his IV solution. I would later find out that he was there for his internship and would be an anesthesiologist for the Air Force. I think I already said he was cute. Not long after that, I slumbered into dreamland. I awoke in the recovery room with Mom and a nurse looking down at me.

“How do you feel, Miss Thomas?’ the nurse asked.

“Groggy. And okay so far, I guess.” I looked at my hospital gown and saw what looked like breasts, and I felt a very tight bra they must have put on me.

“You’ll be able to go home in about a two-hours or so when Dr. Paul signs your release papers, Miss Thomas. I’ll go over the post-surgery list with your Mother and then with you after you’re fully awake. Dr. Paul will be here soon to talk with you and your Mother.”

I was slowly fully waking up from the anesthesia. I was thirsty and hungry. Dr. Paul came in and said the procedure when well without any complications and asked, “How do you feel, Miss. Thomas?”

“Thank you, Doctor Paul, for everything. I feel okay, so far. But this bra feels horrible. I can hardly breathe. Does this bra have reinforcing bars in it?” She laughed. Before being discharged, the nurse asked me if I have filled my pain and antibiotics prescriptions.

At home, Mother said she had changed my sheets after I got up that morning. I went to my bed to rest and sleep. Mom checked on me every hour, making sure I had plenty of water and took my medications on time.

“This is one heck of an uncomfortable bra!”

‘You can change it soon enough, sweetie.” When I was awake, I re-read the post-recovery checklist. Mom brought me a comfortable reading pillow. The doorbell rang.

Mom went down and saw who it was. She yells from downstairs, “Savannah, you have flowers.” I thought to myself, Fred doesn’t know I’m home. They must be from Gwen. Mom brought them to my room. And handed me the enclosed card.

‘Wishing you a speedy recovery. We all miss you. Diane.’

“Diane?” Then pausing, “Oh, Ms. Harris.” I wondered how she got my address here. Then I assumed she got it from Mrs. Turner in HR because I had Mother as my emergency contact.

“Mom, do you still have those thank you cards I got my last time here? These are so beautiful. What a sweet thought.” Mom cut and placed the flowers in a vase and put them on one of my dressers so I could see them.

It was difficult for me to sleep on my back since I was a side and belly sleeper. The discomfort was tolerable, but this darn bra must go soon.

“Mom, if I had to wear this bra my whole life, I’d go braless.” Mom laughed when I told her that. Mother said she thought about going braless when she was younger but was too much of a traditionalist. She said she cringed at the thought of her nipples poking through like she sees in so many magazines today.

I got up as much as I could and walked around. I enjoyed each time Gwen stopped by.

“Sis, did you ever think I’d follow through with all of this.”

“Actually, yes, I did. I had no doubts whatsoever. And I am happy for you that you did. Besides me, you were the hit of my bachelorette party and wedding. You remember that bridge groomsman who came in his pants dancing with you?”

“Oh, yes.” With a smirky smile. “That poor boy. That should teach him to rub against my thigh on the dance floor. Then I recall he embarrassed me when he left me unescorted on the dance floor!” It felt good to laugh, but it hurt a bit to do so.

“Any dates recently.”

“Two or three” “I have been so involved with this new position, Mom visiting and getting ready for this procedure. And they gave this fantastic assistant; her name is Sara.”

“I’m sure you will have no problem charming men, Savannah. Oh, and Mom told me all about your amazing promotion. Way to go, Sis. Congratulations. We’ll all celebrate when you’re all recovered.”

“You know, Gwen, I think every day how blessed I am to have such a wonderful sister like you. Sorry, I can’t reach up to hug or kiss you. The promotion shocked me.”

“Awe, Sis. I love you too.” She came over and kissed me on my head.

I am not one to stay in bed. Mom came back from the store with some yogurt, salad, soups, and other items. I was famished.

“Mom, do we have any soup?”

The following morning when Mom and I were sitting on the front porch with our coffee, Mom said, “Savannah, you’ve had procedures in the past, and you were up in a couple of hours walking around. And remember when you had your appendix removed. You begged the Doctor and nurse to let you out of your bed and walk around. You started high-tailing down the corridors until the nurse grabbed and stopped you.”

Mom made some homemade chicken noodle soup in the crockpot for me. I gulped it down and not very ladylike. She asked Gwen if she was staying for dinner.

“No, Mom, sorry. I must get home to Steve. He’s incredibility helpless in the kitchen, except using the microwave. And only if what he is microwaving has concise adult instructions.”

Since I couldn’t put anything on over my head for a while, Mom found some of dad’s old dress shirts for me to wear. “Isn’t that big shirt from Sis’s bachelorette party still here? I could wear this around the house too.”

I slept in the recliner that night, and it was much more comfortable. I had a better sleep being elevated but preferred the canopy bed. I was impressed I was healing better than I thought. But truthfully, I didn’t know what to expect.

“Savannah, it’s time to clean your incisions. Would you like me to help?” I finally thought for the first time about the modesty of my breasts.

“Thank you, Mom. I would appreciate it. I can’t see where the incisions are.”

“And it is time to get that uncomfortable bra off of you and replace it with something more comfortable.”

“I’m all ready for that! I think I’ll have a bra-burning party as I read about what women did in the ’60s!”

Mom started giggling. “I thought about doing that too, dear, but I was too conservative.” As she continued to chuckle to herself, she looked as though she was reminiscing from her younger years. I sat on the edge of my bed. She had handed washed the three new bras I bought for this procedure. When Mom had everything ready, I unbuttoned my shirt, and Mom helped me take off my bra, so I didn’t stretch and open the incisions. I finally saw my breasts, and my eyes opened wide. Mom saw how happy I was.

“Aren’t they beautiful breasts, Savannah ?”

“Wow!” Is all that came from my mouth? Even though they were a little black and blue from the bruising and swelling, I was happy. Mom kissed me on my head. She threw the old bra in the hamper and said she’d clean it in the event I had to put it back on for some reason.

“I pray I don’t have to wear that bra ever again. Maybe I’ll make it into a medieval torture device and give it to display in the museum here in town.” Mom chuckled when I said that. Then, as only a mother can do, she carefully cleaned my breasts and incisions. The cooler air felt good on them from our air conditioning. Mom also gave me a light sponge bath and added some ointment moisturizer. Next, she helped me put my arms through the new bra straps, hooked the new bra for me, and then adjusted the shoulder straps.

“This bra feels much softer and much more comfortable.” And I added, “And this one receives my humane seal of approval too!” I said with a smile of relief. Mom told me when I am healed, the proper way to put on a bra is for me to bend over and allow each breast to lay in place and fill the bra cups, then stand up and hook the back, or hook it, then lean over and fill the cups. I didn’t know that, but I knew it would soon be a daily occurrence.

“You’re the best, Mom. Thank you.” She handed me some medications, and I decided to go downstairs and read.

“You see Dr. Paul day after tomorrow, sweetie. It looks like you are healing well to me. Much pain, dear?”

“More annoying discomfort than pain. Mostly from that darn torture bra, Mom.” Later in the afternoon, I had an opportunity to write Mrs. Harris a thank you card for the flowers and sweet card. Mom said she’d mail it her next time out.

At Dr. Paul’s office, she said I was healing nicely. She told me she wanted to see me in one week. And for me to keep doing what I am doing for my recovery.

“May I take some more photos, Miss Thomas?” Photos of my breasts? I felt embarrassed. Doctor Paul explained she had some before and after photos.

“You saw someone in a book when you first arrived, didn’t’ you?” I agreed to the photos.

“I’ll never post them on the internet, and if I use them, of course, I’ll ask your permission first, and I won’t use your name.” I granted her my permission.

Back home, Mom asked, “Savannah, do you want any visitors. I can see if any of your girlfriends would like to stop by?” I said no and that I prefer to rest and recover and do some work for Mrs. Harris. However, if someone wishes to stop by, please allow them to stop by.”

The next week I was feeling better and better. I had to catch and stop myself from running up and down the stairs so my breasts wouldn’t bounce. It felt funny holding them going up and down the stairs. I accomplished a lot of work and talked once a day to Mrs. Harris or Sara. Diane was surprised by how much work I accomplished. I am glad IT set my computer up that I could remotely access my work computer. I spend a lot of time writing and sketching ideas for product changes and new products on the porch or back patio. Sadly, Mother’s old printer didn’t have a fax or scan capabilities. I’d decided to get her a new one soon. I could email small files, but the larger files I had to put on CDs or thumb drives to mail to them once every several days to Ms. Harris.

Mrs. Harris called one day.

“Hello.”

“Savannah, this is Diane Harris.” I called to check on you and see how your feeling and your recovery?”

“Mrs. Harris, it is so thoughtful of you to call. Thank you. I see the Doctor next week, and she said I could come back to Chicago and have my follow-ups there by one of her colleagues?”

“Savannah, you amaze me. You’ve done more work during your recovery than I ever would. You are one incredible lady. And you’ve been working Sara to death with all your ideas and proposals. I spend most of my time reading them. We can get her some help if you keep it up. I’d love you back but do what the doctors say. Okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I don’t have the capabilities to fax or scan here at my Mother’s house, so I just mailed you a bunch of sketches yesterday in the mail. Right now, the pain isn’t as bad as I have read there may be. The first post-op bra was horrible (I heard her laugh). It felt like it was made with Kevlar with reinforcing bars. And of course, having Mom to care for me is the best care of all.”

“Savannah. You know I do, and so does everyone in the office misses you. Just let me know what you may need when you arrive, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of here and in your apartment. And thank you for all your amazing work. Please keep me posted, and take care, Savannah? And go ahead and stay home another week after you see your Doctor and enjoy time with your Mother.”

“And I thank you for all of your support to me in my transition. I love working for you, Diane. And thank you for the lovely flowers. Goodbye.”

“Who was that, dear?”

“Mrs. Harris checking up on me. And she told me to stay home for another week. Is that okay with you?”

“Savannah, you may stay here forever if you wish. I thought Ms. Harris was a very kind lady. She must have a phenomenal business mind. Ready to be cleaned again and change bras.” I nodded and headed upstairs to the bathroom, taking two steps at a time.

“Looks like those cold packs are reducing the swelling, Savannah .” I looked down, and they did look like the swelling had significantly reduced. And the bruising was not as prominent.

As Mom was cleaning my incisions, she surprised me when she said, “Boys are going to love these, sweetie.”

“Mom!” She pitched this bra in the hamper with the torturous cardboard one and began cleaning my incisions. See cleaned and moisturized my incisions the same as before and helped me with another tolerable bra.

“Thank you again, Mother. I doubt I could do this without you.” Mom kissed my head.

“Feel like salmon for dinner, Savannah .”

I’ve been practically living on soups and yogurts and salads. “That sounds fantastic, Mom. Can I help?”

“Only if it doesn’t hurt, sweetie.” As Mom was starting dinner, I came to the kitchen and realized I could not reach the higher cupboard shelves to get plates and glasses. I could, however, pour tea. And maybe wash dishes.

“I’m pretty helpless, Mom.”

“You are fine. Do what you feel comfortable with, and I’ll do the rest.”

We had salad, salmon, asparagus, and a little bit of brown rice for dinner.

“This is scrumptious, Mom. It hits the spot.” I think tomorrow I may go outside and walk around the back yard and sit on the porch just to get some fresh air.

The next week flew by. Gwen came by several times. The ideas for work kept flooding my head, so I had to make a list then develop each one at a time. Mrs. Harris’s inbox must be inundated with my emails. And Sara, my receptionist, has been indispensable. And I made sure Mrs. Harris and Donna knew that.

The new printer I ordered from Amazon arrived, and I installed everything up for her. I also ordered more print cartridges and paper. I showed her how to fax and scan from the machine.

The discomfort and pain were all gone, but it still saw some swelling and a tad bit of bruising. I thought to myself, ‘Yeah, no more breast forms! Maybe I’ll have a breast form burning party!’ It was now Saturday, and I’d see Dr. Paul on Monday.

Gwen and Steve came over on Sunday and stayed in the afternoon and dinner. All of our estrogen in the house overpowered Steve’s testosterone. Still, he seemed to cope as best he could by watching a football game on TV while Mom, Sis, and I talked in the dining room. They left not long after dinner.

That night after Mom cleaned my breasts. I asked her if she thinks of Father much as I looked up to their photos on the mantle.

“Every day, sweetie. I do miss him. But what gets me through it all is all the love I receive from you two girls.” I got up to hug Mom. Oops. I can’t do that yet, so I kissed her on her cheek.

“We both love you dearly, Mom.” These bras weren’t as uncomfortable now, but they were still binding and not nearly cute enough for my liking.

Monday morning, Dr. Paul examined my breasts and incisions. “Miss Thomas, these incisions look very good, the swelling has subsided, and the bruising is gone.” Next, she had me jiggle my breast. It felt strange to do this.

“Does that hurt any?”

“No, Ma’am, Doctor.”

She had me stand up, gently twist back and forth. “How does that feel?”

It’s a little restrictive and tight, and I pointed under my left breast, but no pain.” She gently lifted my breast with the palm of her gloved hand looked at the incisions.

Then she had me slowly and gently raise one arm above my head one at a time: then both. Then bend side to side with my hands over my head.

“How does that feel?”

“About the same as the twisting.” I pointed under the same breast again to the same location I showed her before. “It feels like it pulls a little here.”

Dr. Paul examined me some more.

“It is one of the surgical scars, but they’re they’ll heal soon enough. I’ve only had a handful of other patients to heal this nicely so quickly. Your post-op care has paid off. Keep up the moisturizer.”

“Mother did the cleaning and applied the medications and ointments. Thank her.”

“I see no reason why you can’t wear your underwire bras. If they hurt too much but wear a sports bra for a few more days. I recommend you still avoid a lot of bouncing and long stretches. In a week to ten days, you should be able to what you want. I’ll give you my colleague’s card in Chicago if you need to see her. If you wish to see her, contact me, and I’ll send her your paperwork, Miss Thomas. I’ll also have my nurse to send medication refills to the Costco online pharmacy. Keep taking the antibiotics until they are all gone, and the pain medication as needed. One more item, Miss Thomas. Can you reach behind to your hook and unhook your bra?” I showed her with no difficulty.

“Amazing. Your running, yoga, and being in great health and conditioning have greatly assisted your healing process, Miss Thomas. You may return to Chicago whenever you wish. And you may do light jogging with a good sports bra that is specifically designed for running, but no sprinting or long distances for another week. Oh, do you require a fit-for-work paper?”

“Nothing is needed for my work?”

“Call or email us anytime. It has been my pleasure meeting you and your Mother.”

Before I left, she took more photos of my breasts.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Paul. This procedure is an important step for me. I’m so very grateful to you.”

At home, I told Mother I want to return to Chicago on Friday. Of course, she wanted me to stay forever. But, of course, that’s what all moms wish.

I emailed Mrs. Harris and informed her. She replied and said I had produced light-years of work and that I could stay home another week. She insisted. And to come back the following Friday, and she would have her driver pick me up and get my baggage off the carousel and into my place and put wherever I wanted it in my apartment. Mom was happy I could stay. On occasion, I noticed I was not self-sufficient as I thought I was, but I still appreciated Mom’s help. I went to Target to get a couple more running sports bras. It felt terrific to work out if you call a light jog around the block five times a workout.

My orders from Dr. Paul said I was still supposed to sleeping in the post-op bras or sports bras for one more week, and I could lay flat or on my side if there was no discomfort. I had to call her back and said I’d be home one more week and would need a week of refills here at home. The nurse faxed them a partial prescription to my local pharmacy to last me for a week.

The next day I put on one of my underwire bras. It didn’t hurt, but the cups felt tight. I finally was seeing cleavage. I asked Mom to look.

“It looks like you may still have a tad bit of swelling. I’d get one bra cup larger or call the nurse and see what she says. And remember, dear, you are not used to having breasts in a bra.”

“You are right, Mom. I’ve never had any breasts in a bra before. My old bras are for my breast forms.” I realized that the post-op bras were a “C” cup because of the swelling.

“Savannah, all of your bras aren’t the same style or from the same manufacture, are they? I recommend you wait and see which ones fit comfortably before purchasing anymore. Then, if needed, see your cute sales lady or a professional bra fitter and replace those. You know bras don’t last forever.”

I call the nurse, and she looked at the doctor’s notes. She put me on hold to talk to Dr. Paul.

“Miss Thomas, this is Dr. Paul. You are still experiencing a little swelling, but not much. I recommend you wait for a week. Then I if the bras don’t feel good, I recommend you get a professional bra fitter.” Just what Mom said! Great advice, Mom.

The following week I walked a lot as much as I could and some more light jogging. I booked a flight for Friday morning. On Thursday, I went to see Dr. Paul for a quick checkup. She didn’t have any cancellations, but she fit me in between patients.

“Miss Thomas, everything looks great. Do I have your permission to take a few more recovery photos?

“Of course, Doctor.” She took about twenty photos of my breasts.

“I’ll leave you wonderful feedback too, Dr. Paul.”

“Thank you, Miss Thomas. I appreciate that. You are a model patient! You may get dressed now. And I still want your skin. I wish I could give it to all of my patients.” I smiled.

“If I could give it to you, I would for all of your help and support, Doctor Paul.”

I stopped by the grocery store and picked up dinner. Next, I called Mom and said I was making pork loin for dinner. Next, I called Sis to see if she and Steve wanted to come by since I’d be leaving the next day.

Steve couldn’t make it because it was boys’ night out. Mom, Sis, and I had a great dinner together. I finally had a couple of glasses of wine since I was off the pain and antibiotics medications. I told Sis and Mom that they were welcome to visit me anytime they wanted. Sis bought up so many stories of ‘young Savannah ’ that I had forgotten. It no longer hurts to laugh. Mom excused herself and went up to her room. She brought back several small gifts. These are from Gwen and me. The first was two photos of Sis and me. One from the dinner party and the other from the reception; the next pictures of all three of us. The last gift was personalized thank you cards.

I stood up to give them hugs. “Gently, sweetie.” Mom said. I didn’t care if it hurt some.

“One of these will go in my office and apartment. Thank you. I love being the youngest daughter in this family.”

Sis exclaimed, “You’re the only youngest daughter in this family!”

The Friday morning, I wore a sports bra and a loose shirt on the plane to make sure I was comfortable. Mom made her famous waffles and eggs for breakfast and put my bag in the car. I gave Mom a big tight hug and kiss.

“Thank you for caring for me, Mom. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. “

“I’d do anything for my daughters.” I had a tear, and Mom wiped it away.

“Call me when you arrive.”

“You know, I will. Love you, Mom.” I turned and walked into the terminal.

O’Hare airport was cold, windy, and miserable. I already missed the South. Mrs. Harris had my driver to pick me up. And as promised, he took my bag inside for me and put it where I instructed him to place it. I called Mom then went out for groceries at Trader Joe’s. I opened a bottle of wine and called Mom to tell her I was home safe. I ordered Mom some more flowers.

Finally, one element of my transition was over. Next, the reassignment procedure?

Next: Work after surgery.

Tags: featured, fiction, Transgender

Category: Fiction