Boob jobs! Titty is a fun word to say.

When I was around 13 years old I remember looking in the mirror at my chestal region and thinking, ‘these are gonna be awesome in a few years when they’re bigger!’  A few years later with nothing, and then a few years after that with more nothing, I finally came to the conclusion that my boobs finished baking long ago.

Right around this age.

Right around this age.

The tiny two was all I was ever going to have.  I tried to fight nature.  I massaged them to death, I asked my doctor to give me the highest hormone birth control possible hoping that would trick them into growing, I took some sort of voodoo magic horse pills claiming to increase cup size but in actuality just made you burp up herbs for hours.  These little suckers remained staunchly themselves.  They were not budging.  I hated it.  I wore padded bras (still do.  sorry bros) and it took me until my early 20s to even dream of taking my shirt off if I was letting a guy do some things to my things.  (sexiest sex euphemism ever!)

Eventually I seemingly made peace with their size and resigned myself to a lifetime of not being able to fill out a bathing suit.  The idea of a boob job entered my mind occasionally, but I didn’t think of it as a serious option for a couple reasons: 1. If my body didn’t react well to the surgery and I got sick or something, I’d have put myself through suffering for fucking tits.  2. If implants made it harder to detect breast cancer, I’d have also just done that to myself.   Plus, hi, expensive.

But recently, the thought of actually doing it kept popping up in my head and I figured I had nothing to lose by at least going for a couple consultations.  In most offices, they’re free, so why not?  Several months ago, I went through with it.  Because when in LA you do as the LA bitches do and you consider slicing up your shit with a scalpel.

Here is what happened.

I found some breast implants forum and read all about people’s personal stories, and looked through their surgeon recommendations.  I also used Yelp.  I narrowed it down to two surgeons who seemed universally liked and well-reviewed.  One was Dr. Firouz in Beverly Hills, and the other was Dr. Dadvand in West Hollywood.

My first appointment was with Dr. F.  Fancy ass building, fancy ass office, beautiful receptionist and someone whose swollen chest and labored lumbering out of the office as I went in gave away that she was freshly post-op.  I only had to wait a few minutes before I went in to the consultation.  Dr. F brought me in his office and asked me what I was looking for.  “Saline because I don’t want to be poisoned to death by leaking silicone.  Nothing huge.  Seriously, I want to go up maybe a cup and a half.  I am not trying to be a porn star or have people start staring me in the tits upon greeting me.  I just want to not look like a little boy.  Help.”

Dr. F immediately set to work showing me how much better silicone was than saline.  Silicone used to be a lot more dangerous because it was a gel-liquid that, when ruptured, could leak into your body and fuck shit up.  The newer model of silicone implant is more of a gel-solid.  If it gets ruptured, it can’t leak because it’s more like a squishy solid mass.  He showed me a sliced open silicone implant and squashed the hell out of it to demonstrate that those babies could take a beating and still not break off into pieces.  Whereas with saline, if there’s any sort of hole in the implant, it’s going to leave you with a sad and obviously deflated titty emergency.

When you squash it, the inside pushes outwards and then goes back into place when you let go.  What do ya know?

The silicone implant looked like this.  When you squash it, the inside pushes outwards and then goes back into place when you let go. What do ya know?

“But how do you know if there’s some sort of problem with a silicone implant if it doesn’t deflate?  What if there’s a massive hole in it and a little piece does somehow manage to break off?  You don’t figure it out until you die of silicone poisoning, if that’s a thing?”

Apparently you can get an MRI of your chest every few years to check for stray silicone pieces, and that’ll be an out of pocket expense because no insurance is going to cover your elective surgically enhanced boob maintenance.

Silicone also feels a lot more natural, and is less prone to rippling, which is what it sounds like: it bunches up in places and it looks like you have ripples in your boobs.  Cute!

I asked all about capsular contracture, which is basically where tissue hardens around your implant and becomes extremely painful, potentially causing infection and implant rupture, and definitely requiring another surgery — a surgery that would be a whole other out of pocket expense, by the way.  There’s no way to predict who might get this.  All doctors can do is take every precaution to make sure the surgery is done right, and then you just hope your body isn’t going to look at the implant, say “fuck this thing” and attack the hell out of it.  Scary, and there’s no way to really come to terms with this one.  You just accept it as a risk.

After a few thousand more questions, I went into an exam room.  I stripped off my top and the Dr. checked out my tatas and then gave me this sports bra looking thing to put on, and then had me shove different sized implants into it over my actual boobs to see how big they’d look.  It was weird to have actual weight on my chest.  I dug it.

Then I went in with his scheduling coordinator, another beautiful girl named Annie, who went over the price (around $8000, possibly a little more) and financing options with me.  She was young and extremely friendly.  So friendly she showed me her boobs and encouraged me to touch them.  I did…. and then things got weird.  I kid!  The point of this was for her to show me how shitty her saline implant was, and she showed me some actual ripples in her sideboob.  She was also pro silicone and planned on getting hers redone at some point.  I walked outta there saying fuck saline, dude.  My overall impression of Dr. F was that I liked him, he’d definitely do a great job, but he was maybe a little too fast-talking for me.  I want someone to pet my hair and tell me everything’s going to be okay and send me out of the office with a barrage of butterflies, apparently.

My next appointment was with Dr. D, out of a bigger office than the last one, a little less nice, and shared with other doctors.  A terrifying looking woman with WAY too much surgery on her face led me into a consultation/exam room and asked me a few questions.  I was a bit turned off at first — if a doctor in this office allowed this melted Barbie looking woman get to this point and then made her the first face potential patients see as they’re considering hacking up their body, I had to question their judgment.  But then Dr. D came in and my mind changed pretty quickly.  He was so nice, so soft spoken, he took his sweet time answering every question and concern I had, and he wasn’t the slightest bit pushy about anything at all.  He advocated silicone over saline as well, but he wasn’t quite as “in your face” about it as the previous doctor I saw.  I ran through my entire line of questions with him, and then he left the room so I could whip off my top.

Then came the mentally scarring part.  He had this huge machine in the office that takes a 3D picture of your boobs, man.  You stand in front of this giant contraption, and it shows you your torso in 3D.  Trust me when I say this: Unless your name starts with Alessandra and ends with D’Ambrosio, you do not want to see your tits and stomach in 3D.  You just don’t.  It became very obvious that I have two different sized boobs (common for most people, but I never really noticed it on me before) and so that was awesome!  But the good part of this, the part that I hold onto for dear life, is that the Dr. told me my boobs aren’t as small as I think they are.  My shirts and bathing suits and my eyeballs disagree, but my brain will hold onto a surgeon telling me that I am most definitely not flat chested forever.  So eat that, high school boys!

Anyways, as we watched my 3D boobs on the computer screen, he started adding size to them digitally.  I watched them grow all these different sizes, and got to see what it would actually look like on my body.  It was pretty damn awesome.  Technology, right?  Shit, son.

Like this, minus the bra.  Them's yo bewbs, girl.

Like this, minus the bra. Them’s yo bewbs, girl.

Once I settled on a size I liked, we were pretty much done.  I met back with Melt Face Barbie and got the price (I think it was about $7100) and financing options available, and left on my merry way.  I didn’t set an appointment with anyone, and to this day I still haven’t.

Honestly, meeting with the surgeons put me a lot more at ease with the concept of doing this sort of surgery.  Sure, it’s their jobs to make you feel like it’s safe and a good thing and like you’re going to be thrilled with the results.  They’d better be good at it, it’s how they earn enough to live in a mansion and drive a Porsche.  But after bombarding two different doctors with a zillion questions and getting basically the same answers for everything, my general thought on the matter is that this is a surgery that’s been done for so many years, is done so often to so many people, and that for the most part, is standardized and relatively safe.  The potential complications post-op is what is hardest for me, personally, to wrap my mind around, but I don’t really think that’s why I haven’t gone through with it.  I haven’t mostly for financial reasons – not wanting to take on another goddamn loan — and also because my boobs are fine.  I don’t cry when I see them, they aren’t hideous.  They’re just small.  They’re a-okay.  Yes, I would like them bigger, and this isn’t to say that someday I won’t do it, but right now… it’s not strong enough of a desire that I want to undergo the risks and the financial burden.

I mean, unless you’re paying.

If anyone out there is considering going on a consultation, here’s the list of questions I asked the doctors.  Feel free to steal it.

Silicone or saline?
Under or over muscle?
Incision area – under breast, nipple, armpit?
How many patients you’ve performed surgery on have dealt with capsular contracture?
Are there things I can do to help prevent it?
What is the therapy for that?
What is financially included in post-op?
How long is recovery?
When can I go back to work?
Do you do a lot of revisions?
What is included if something goes wrong?
Infection rate?
What is cost of replacing when the time comes? The same?
Is saline more likely to ripple? Feel natural?
Will I need special bras? Is that included?
How do you treat the pain?  
About how long will swelling last?
How long should pain last?
How long until I can go back to normal activities?
What medications do I have to take?
What kind of scar treatment do you recommend?
How long do I have to sleep sitting up?
What kind of discomfort can I expect?  Spasms?
If I had to take the implants out for any reason would they look different than they do now?
Do implants make cancer much harder to detect?
Any extra charges?
Most common complications?
What is your reoperation rate with implants?
Can I speak to references?
What happens as you get old? Since implants need to be replaced, how do older women deal ?
What shape size texture do you recommend for me?
What is your cancellation policy?
What happens if I’m unhappy with outcome?
Difference between high profile and moderate profile?  Can saline be used with either?
What is the likelihood of having a gap between breasts?
What does muscle distortion look like?
How likely is nerve damage? Breast numbness?

BOOBS!

 

6 Responses to “Boob jobs! Titty is a fun word to say.”

  1. Rachel Joy Horn says:

    This was SO interesting. My experience was actually really similar to yours, but with less concern for money since mine was covered by insurance.

  2. Rachel Joy Horn says:

    This was SO interesting. My experience was actually really similar to yours, but with less concern for money since mine was covered by insurance.

  3. This was SO interesting. My experience was actually really similar to yours, but with less concern for money since mine was covered by insurance.

  4. Jaclyn Baum says:

    That 3D thing is cool. I'm still doing it. You should come :)

  5. It's cool, but it made me want to start an ab program.

  6. It's cool, but it made me want to start an ab program.

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