I've had a few hectic days, which is why I haven't added anything to this.

Wednesday and Thursday I was having incredibly painful stabbing sensations in my right breast, constantly. I could barely move and I was crying every time I did too much or tried to get changed. On Thursday evening I had my daily check-up call with Tania and when I told her about the pain she got in contact with my surgeon in order for her to call me. I was terrified and just crying, thinking something was horribly wrong, and when Lisa called and said I needed to come into the hospital right away I was terrified. So I rushed in as quickly as I could, still in my PJs and clutching a pilow in the taxi (my dad had downed a bottle of wine and my mum has a broken wrist so neither could drive me.)

Lisa didn't end up coming in till 10am the next morning, so I spent all night in the hospital, having my breasts and blood pressure checked every hour or so, so I didn't get much sleep during the night. They seemed to think it was just a trapped nerve - my breasts looked the same, the one that hurt wasn't red or swollen and the wounds were fine, so it didn't look like an infection or anything. So at least I had that out of my mind. They pumped me full of morphine and various other drugs but I still found it very hard to move and needed help just getting to the bathroom.

When Lisa came in, the first thing she did was take off the bandeau I was wearing. She said that was the first thing I should have done when it started hurting, but I didn't know whether I should or not. She checked everything, said it's probably just pressure or maybe a trapped nerve, but nothing could be done about a trapped nerve and it would just sort itself out. So she changed my dressings, which meant I got my first proper look at my new breasts - and I mean, right now they're still all bloody and stitched together, but in terms of size and shape they look fantastic. I wouldn't have minded a bit bigger but that wasn't what I was worried about - I just wanted to look normal.

I was told off a little for not saying anything sooner and for not taking off the bandeau, but I suppose I just thought that's how much it was meant to hurt? I thought I just had to deal with it and that was that. We then discussed what pain medication I was on and it turns out I wasn't on nearly strong enough stuff, so I've come home with a few extra packets of things to try out, and they seem to be working a lot better. I've also got to keep the bandeau off for now, which makes me VERY happy as I hated that thing, it hurt my back to wear and you could always see it no matter what I wear.

This means I've been experiencing the novel sensation of not wearing a bra underneath my clothes, which is definitely...interesting. Although it feels like I have a bra, because I still have the bandages underneath my breasts which feels like the bottom of a bra, and I have the extra weight of the implants which I'm not quite used to yet. So I keep going to adjust my bra and then realising I don't have one haha. But it's great, I'm so happy. My mum bought me my first ever balcony bra, this lovely red lacy thing and it looks great on me. I can't wait to go out and buy nice bras, and some sexy lingerie to wear for Andy.

I am still in pain but significantly less, and I can't expect not to have any, that's just silly. And the painkillers are making me feel very sleepy, so when we had guests over today I had to leave them at one point to just sit with my feet up in the living room for five minutes. But I feel like I'm improving a lot. Also, I was able to put on a pull-on top today! Which is fantastic, because I hate hate hate button up shirts. This probably sounds so dull to everyone else, but this is all so exciting for me!

Got home today - after very, very little sleep last night and some unpleasant experiences.

I kept getting woken up for my blood pressure to be taken, which is good, but doesn't make for a good night's sleep - neither does having to sit upright in a bed with with sack filled with gunk from your body on either side of you. Luckily they took out my IV drip so I didn't have that wire in me all night, although I still had the needle in my hand, which was uncomfortable as hell. Of course it didn't hurt at all when they took it out!

The drains were another matter entirely.

I have never felt anything that bizarre and horrible in my mouth. I thought it would only hurt where they were going in the skin but it was like...someone was sucking out the inside of my breasts. Eew.

Now I have this incredibly awkward bandeau strap to stop the implants rising up too high, and it hurts my back a lot. I can't quite stand up straight today which is annoying but I can move about a bit.

When I left the hospital everyone said how good I looked for someone who'd just had surgery, and one woman with a nurse who knew me commented that she didn't think I was a patient when she saw me. Which is nice, I suppose! And my surgeon gave me some lovely bath oils and things, which unfortunately I can't use for a week but means my next shower will smell awesome! She's so awesome - to anyone considering breast augmentation, I seriously reccommend Lisa Sacks. She's lovely and understanding and a fantastic surgeon. Everyone commented on how well it went.

Anyway, when I got home I just went and chilled on the sofa, and ate a bit. Soon got chased out by my dad watching crap antique programmes but I'm happy enough up in my room watching Weeds.

The thing that's frustrating me most today is how little I can do. I just want to be able to make myself a cup of tea when I fancy one, or go to the toilet without taking ten minutes! Hopefully I'll bounce back quickly, I've never liked just sitting around. My PS2 gets hooked up tomorrow so I can spend the day in Silent Hill, battling against Pyramid Head. Oh and on Saturday my dad's birth mother is coming over, so I have to hope that I've recovered enough by then that she won't notice anything's wrong! We'll see haha.

Until then I have my mother with the broken wrist and my dad on the crutches doing everything for me. Which is interesting. I'm looking forward to moving up to York next week and having my friends wait on me hand and foot instead =P although now I'm debating going up the week after, instead. So I don't have too long bored in York with a boyfriend I'm not allowed to have sex with (how rubbish!)

Anyway, I don't think anyone's actually reading this, but I'm going to carry on. I want to be able to read back and check out my journey.

But if anyone is reading it, hope it's not too graphic, and let me know if you have any questions =)

Something unprecedented has happened - I have internet access in my hospital room!

Don't expect this blog to be very much. I'm very drugged up right now, and it's hard for me to type with the drip in my hand that I am so desperately trying not to move.

I got in at 6:45am with little to no sleep last night. Had some crumpets and a huge glass of water at midnight. When I got in, I was shown to my room and had to wait on the nurse who checked my vitals. The anaesthetist came, who was lovely and talked me through everything. Then my surgeon came and marked me up and talked to me about the procedure. I was very pleased - there was a chance I'd be having one procedure now, and another in about six months, but she decided to do both. Then a lot of waiting around - I had a nap and watched rubbish daytime TV, and eventualy went for the operation at about 4:30pm.

The worst bit was the anaesthetic. I had an injection in my hand (I hate hate hate injections) to numb it, then they put the drip thing in - I could feel it and it did hurt a bit, despite what they said. I near had a panic attack but my surgeon, Lisa, made me sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to distract me haha. It wasn't until I sat up and made the mistake of looking that I really freaked out. But soon after that I passed out.

Woke up three hours later, confused and in pain. I've been given initial painkillers, morphine and then more painkillers, so fairly dosy but at least not hurting so much. I do need someone to help me pee though!

I was talking to my mum before she left. We were discussing my options now - sexy lingerie, bras to match my outfit...I started crying. Goddamn I can't believe it. I can be normal (although I really don't feel it right now.) I'm so devastatingy happy that I can be a woman...I can be naked with my boyfriend...I can wear a nice bikini to festivals next year! Things that so many people take for granted.

Oh and my surgeon got me flowers - how lovely is that? They're these beautiful orchid things, I'm going to take them up to York along with my jalapeno plant.

Just had some nurses come and check me. God, I have real breasts. Wow.

Although drains are fucking horrible.

Shame you can't see my sexy white compression stockings! (I have that bandage on my hand so I can't see the thing sticking out.)

Now is the time to watch some movies and relax. Adieu!

My name is Jenny, I'm 19, and tomorrow I'll be having a breast augmentation.

As I'm sure many have found, I've noticed that sitgmas fade as you grow up. When once my bisexuality was cause for fights and bullying, it's become something that barely anyone bats an eyelid about. No one mocks me for my hair colour or piercings any more. There has only been one thing that I've noticed prejudice for, and that's being a woman.

Unfortunately I'll be adding another one.

I've noticed more and more frequently of late that there is a massive taboo around cosmetic surgery, specifically breast augmentation. Not that my operation is cosmetic surgery - but neither is it life threatening, and therefore to everyone else it may as well be.

Of course it's only because I'm aware of it as a personal matter now. But it amazes me how there can still be such ridicule about such a thing. It's casual comments made by people, often that a woman's breasts are "plastic" or "fake."

This confuses me beyond belief. Perhaps it's something you can only understand by going through it, but the thought that consistently runs through my head is "I can't wait to have real breasts." I understand that this is a paradox, and that the most real breasts I'll ever have are the ones I have now, but to me, just having some that I feel comfortable with will mean I feel more like they're a part of me. People I've spoken to recently have tried to understand, and failed. I don't really expect them to, because it's not an easy situation by any means.

At the end of the day, everything I do is for myself, and I won't give that up. I've fought through years of depression, self-hatred, anxiety issues, eating disorders...maybe it's time to give myself a very expensive treat.

So today, I'm trying to focus on that rather than the actual operation part of tomorrow. I'm bringing the long-run scheme back, folks. It's just that sometimes the long-run seems far more terrifying than the short-term.

Ho hum. An hour and fifty five minutes left in which to eat and drink (after reviewing my information, I can't eat or drink after midnight.) And still to do - pluck eyebrows and change my nose piercing.

Wish me luck.

So I've decided it might be helpful to keep my blog up while I'm going through my breast augmentation, in order to keep it all straight in my head and talk about how I'm feeling - without spamming the Random Rants thread too much!

It's almost 10pm on Saturday now. On Monday morning, I'll get to the hospital at 6:45am and see my surgeon and anaesthetist. I can't have any food after midnight on Sunday night, and no drink after 2am. My operation will probably be at lunchtime but could be any time after 7am, really. And well, I'm terrified.

I'm well aware, as everyone feels the need to remind me, that I chose to do this. But I suppose I didn't really think about the actual...surgery side of things. My mind has been so swept away with fantasies of having naked, intimate moments, and bra shopping - things I thought would never happen. And yes, when I look down at my horrid, heavy bra that I have to wear every single day just to make myself look normal, I know it's going soon. I can't even begin to describe how relieved I'm going to be to get rid of it! But before all that comes the surgery.

I watched Masterchef the other day. It contained the dissection of a chicken, and the sight of knife carving through skin made me feel ill. I'm vegetarian as it is, but how horrible is it to watch an animal being carved up, knowing that'll happen to me soon? I've always been squeamish, mostly about knives and needles. So now I can't stop thinking about the operation in the simplest way possible; I'm going to have a needle put into my hand which will render me unconscious, a tube put down my throat, and then Lisa is going to cut my skin open and insert plastic into me. It's terrifying. And after that's done, I get weeks of pain and inconvenience while my body heals.

I'm not as ungrateful as I probably sound. It's just that I've never had surgery before, and I don't know what to expect. So much can go wrong and I just don't know what to expect. I'm constantly asked when I'll be out again, how long it will take me to recover, and I simply have no idea! I normally bounce back pretty fast but I've never had anything like this before.

Tonight I begin packing for my stay. I have to start taking some anti-bruising tablets and get a decent amount of sleep before I go in for it. I'm sure everything will be absolutely fine but it's hard to shake from my mind the constant feeling I have that I'm incredibly unlucky, and that when they pull out that 1 in 1000 statistic, I feel like I could well be that 1.

And I can't talk to my parents about all this because they're paying for the procedure, and I don't want to sound like I don't want it, or that I rushed into it. But yes, I suppose I didn't think it through fully. I was far too caught up in the long-term to see the short-term.

I don't know if I'll write on here again before the operation - I'd like to do it every day but it depends whether I have anything exciting to say tomorrow. Monday is out too, but I'll try to write something that I can post up on Tuesday. If nothing else, I think it would be interesting for me to track my own progress.

Frankly, I'm terrified. Wish me luck.

 

Reminder - must remove nose ring!

Woo woo! There's this thing called V Inspired which has volunteering opportunities for teenagers, and I spied on their website a while ago that they're doing a fashion workshop. Only 30 people get to go, but I found out today that I got accepted! It means that next Sunday, I go along to a nine hour workshop where they provide me with materials and equipment, all for free, so that I can recycle old clothes and make them into new and beautiful things. The really good ones are put into a fashion show, and even the ones that aren't get auctioned off to raise money for a HIV charity. I'm so excited, it sounds like so much fun and obviously it's an awesome thing to put on my CV, and I get to help out charities! Awesome =)

I just HAD to promote this website. I've been buying things from here for a while and they always send so fast. The products are really reasonably priced, and first class UK postage is always £1. So here we go! www.myvintagecharms.com

It was...okay. Got a bit complex; I hate my new drama teacher, and I had my first textiles lesson and hated it too. I got treated like I was in secondary school again, which I really resent, and the class was just full of preening little girls. So I dropped textiles, which meant that the block my favourite drama teacher in was free! So I talked to my tutor, and he said if I wanted to change blocks I had to pick something up in my current drama block so I was "forced" to move hehe. So now I'm doing film studies! It all starts next week, which is quite exciting. My EPQ is going well too, and my tutor group are nice. I may actually make it through the year!

Finally, a solution to my ear problems! I went into the place where I got it pierced today and the woman in there was SO helpful. As soon as I told her what the issue was she knew exactly what I was talking about, and told me that it's the scar tissue forming on the outside. All I need to do is crush up some rock salt and mix it with water to make a paste which I put on the infection every night, then wash it off with salt water in the morning. I'll take a while but it should eventually go away haha. It's just great to have some kind of solution! She even said that doctors don't tend to know a lot about piercings, they only know that when they hear infection they give antibiotics, without actually checking what it is. I'll be going back there next time I get pierced! I'm so impressed

Don't get me wrong, I think they do wonderful things, and I'm so grateful for the NHS 'cause god knows it could be worse, but I always seem to get really useless doctors! When I had my panic attacks, they didn't do anything except try and give me antidepressants when what I needed was help with controlling my breathing which I had to get from a counseller. When I was depressed, I got told I was just a teenager, and the problem would just go away. I've now had this earring infection for months, and all the doctor can do is give me more antibiotics which AREN'T WORKING, I need someone to actually do something about this! Or at least take it seriously, don't just ask me what it is then give me drugs, at least look at the problem. I'm worrying now it's an abscess but how can I know if even the doctor doesn't know? I also went to two doctors about a very private insecurity of mine, and they both told me completely different things! One said it was a problem but there'd nothing they can do, and the other said it was normal but then went on to imply it ISN'T normal. I'm just so fed up with this, the doctor's meant to be the person you can turn to if you're worried or sick but I don't feel like I can, which just means I'm screwed.