I couldn’t believe Farrah from Teen Mom would inflict pain upon herself, thus limiting her ability to take care of her daughter—and all for boobs. I cringed at the scene where her father (that’s right, father) was placing bags of frozen veggies on her breasts, while she whined, “no, not there, what are you doing!?” Her daughter, Sophia just sat on a bench near the bed with a pacifier in her mouth. In my last blog, I wrote that being a parent is about sacrifice. I think Farrah could have went without a boob job, but that's just me, my opinion. I think she's fit and pretty. But I'm speaking from experience, surgery is NO joke.
A few months ago I went to the dermatologist for a full body Cancer screening. My doctor ended up doing biopsies (a quick in-office procedure) on three moles and one came back as “moderate dysplasia with edge involved” 10 days later. It was on my upper back and I didn’t even know it was there. Gulp. My doctor told me I needed a minor surgery to explore the area further and submit another biopsy. Since it was an in-office procedure, she wanted to go in ASAP, but I declined after the nurse explained the recovery would be painful and I couldn’t lift anything over 20 pounds due to stitches. JD is 33 pounds. That is the first thing I thought. I thought about JD. I left the office and called my parents. I mean, I needed help.
My mom offered of course, and asked if I could schedule the surgery on a Friday—she’d stay the entire weekend at my condo. Sounded good to me. The doctor scheduled me for the following week. Next, I took JD out into the garage and taught him how to safely climb into our Jeep, then his car seat. I’d have to go to work on Monday, following the surgery, meaning I’d have to drive and drop JD at day care—but I couldn’t lift him. He considered climbing into his car seat a game. Jumping out was even more fun!
The surgery was longer and more intense than I expected. When I was 16 I had a Spinal Fusion and there was a lot of scar tissue in my back. The doctor had to cut through that tough tissue, before she got to the prize. I was numb the entire time and listening to my iPod. She gave me a prescription for pain meds. I drove home and eased into bed. I woke up in major pain. Good thing my mom was there—I couldn’t even think about cooking dinner, entertaining and bathing my son.
The point of this anecdote is, I NEEDED this surgery and I made arrangements to have help. I’d never inflict pain upon myself, thus limiting my ability to care for JD. For boobs.
Now, I have nothing against breast implants. I’m a 34A and would never get em, but God Bless anyone who does. As a single mom, my priorities, my health foremost, is with my child. I mean, Farrah, actually set up a Will, naming her mom, guardian, in the freak event she died under the knife. Smart. If I die getting boobs, my mom can get my kid.
If you had to have surgery and needed help with your child, who would you call? Would you get painful plastic surgery knowing you had a child to physically care for?
Wear SPF 30 or higher every, single day. We wear 70. I now go for Cancer screenings every 3 months. The last biopsy was clean.