Disclaimer: This post will touch on a controversial topic. I am in no way advocating for or against plastic surgery, especially in people so young. Plastic surgery is a very personal decision that every person needs to make for them self.
When I was 14 I began the process of getting a BREAST REDUCTION and AUGMENTATION. I will have to state that I was 5'2 and a size 32H. Being so small with such a large chest was awkward and painful. I developed before the 6th grade and by the time I began middle school I was already pushing a DD bra size. The physical side effects were very obvious early on. I had back pain that was so bad that it was so hard to function some days. To this day I still cannot sit or stand up straight.
The social side effects of having such a large chest was immeasurable. I developed so young that no one else I went to school with even STARTED developing. I was bullied EVERYDAY. My parents had to pick my up from school at least once a semester because I would not stop crying. There were days I would wake up crying and refused to go to school. It was difficult to understand why I was so different from any other girl I went to school with. I was in 6th grade the first time I was called a slut. I didn't even know what the meant when I was 11-12 years old. The dress code at my middle school was SO strict that after I spent more time in detention than not I started wearing sweatshirts to school everyday. I grew up in southern California so it got into 100 degree weather and I was wearing a sweatshirts. Finding clothes that fit me was very hard and I usually went home crying because I could not wear any of the styles that my friends wore. My parents were more strict that most in the clothes that I was allowed to wear. I was not comfortable spending the night at friends houses because of the way that their fathers and/or brothers looked at me. Therefor most sleepovers were at my house. I had a lot of fights with my parents about going out with friends to the mall or beach because they rarely let me go. They never said it was because of how I looked but I always knew. Anytime I did something fun or went on a field trip at school or girl scouts, my mother was always there as a chaperon or driver.
I had been talking with my parents and doctor about surgery options. I was referred to a plastic surgeon in town. I will not state her name for reasons that will become obvious later on. I started visiting this doctor towards the end of my 8th grade year. The plan that I had with my family was to get the surgery right after the school year ended so that I would be healed when I began high school in the fall of 2002. I began the process of selecting the results that I wanted. I looked at dozens and dozens of binders full of breasts to pick the results that I wanted. The only thing that I really cared about was a smaller chest. I asked my doctor to take me as small as they could. I know that they could not tell me how small I could go until they opened me up. For medical reasons specific to each individual I could only have so much removed before my body would go into shock and will not be able to heal.
The morning of my surgery I woke up with A LOT of anxiety. The plan was to go to my doctor's office (surgery was not taking place in a hospital) have my surgery, spend a couple of hours in recovery room then go home with drainage bags attached to the side of my breasts. Like I said...that was the plan. My parents were in the waiting room and I was in pre-op. There were a lot of people around attaching me to machines and sticking needles in me. The only person that was not there was...THE DOCTOR. I didn't know a single person in the room and my anxiety was getting worse. About 30-45 mins later my doctor FINALLY showed up...in white jeans and a BEBE top. So here I with extreme anxiety, in a room of people that I do not know and a doctor THAT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE A DOCTOR! My stress went through the roof. And the icing on the cake was that I started feeling really sick. I told the doctor this, she looked at me then looked at the nurse and asked why MY LIPS WERE BLUE! That was the last straw! I took the monitor off of my finger and the IV out of my hand...meaning that I ripped it off. All the while YELLING for my parents. Unknown to me, the anesthesiologist had already started putting me under. Only a small amount of the anesthesia got into me before I ripped the needle out. As I was yelling for my parents I was trying to get to the door. I finally made it to the door saw my parents terrified faces then manage to fall unconscious to the floor.
I woke up in me bed at home with my mother sitting next to me. I was so terrified from the experience that I had that I would not even go see my family physician when I was sick for TWO YEARS. I had started high school and the bullying only got worse. My parents went back to picking me up fro school in the middle of the day crying. After 2 years, in the spring of 2004, I decided to try again WITH A DIFFERENT PLASTIC SURGEON. I remember sitting in the doctors office in Santa Monica literally shaking with fear. Then in comes this little doctor from Oklahoma saying "Hey y'all!" After that first meeting with the doctor I immediately felt comfortable. I went through the process again. This time the surgery would take place in the hospital, where I would be admitted over night. To help with any anxiety I might have I will be given Valium while in pre-op and my parents would be allowed to stay with my until I went in for the procedure. I was also allowed to have my headphones on until they put me under.
When I woke up in the hospital, I FELT GREAT! My mother was with me and I was ready to go shopping...then my dad brought my mother lunch, a pastrami sandwich. That was when PUKE-FEST 2004 began. After the surgery I had a very heightened sense of smell and as long as the anesthesia was in my system I could not eat or drink anything. My mother was my rock, she spent the night in a chair next to my be and got up with me every hour to go to the bathroom. When you are on an IV you have to pee LITERALLY EVERY HOUR! I went home the next day where I learned that I CANNOT TAKE PAIN KILLERS. They made me violently ill. I was terrified that I would be in excruciating pain, but I actually really only ever had soreness. Not really any pain.
After a Breast Reduction procedure, you have to wear a sports bra that zips up in the front. After about 2 weeks I was healed and the swelling was almost gone. At first, after my surgery, I thought that my breasts looked funny. I was warned that with the swelling my breasts would look "BOXY." I didn't really know what that meant until after the procedure. MY BOOBS WERE SQUARE!!! I was just glad that they were smaller. After a couple of weeks I went back and had my stitches removed. THIS WAS THE WORST PART. I was in more physical pain having the stitches removed than recovering from the actual surgery. While I was having them removed I actually PASSED OUT! As the swelling finally went down, my mother took me bra shopping in Beverly Hills as a treat. I will never forget going into Victoria's Secret and getting measured.
I was now a full D. I no longer had to special order bras. I felt so much more comfortable in my body and I am thankful everyday that I had the procedure. Even though it felt like my life was perfect now, I found out how much worse high school would be. At the end of the summer, my mother and I went shopping to get clothes that now fit. I went to school to start me junior year, happier and more confident then I had ever been in my life. That is when I was harassed even worse because I had had surgery. MySpace was big back then and a page was started about how much people hated me because I had a "BOOB JOB." I was shy before the surgery, but after it I became socially isolated. I spent lunch in the library. Finally, at the end of the semester my parents removed me from school and placed me in independent study. My brother had already graduated the year before so he was no longer able to protect me and people knew it. I was on the phone with my mother at lunch, when she herd a girl try to physically fight me because of how I looked. It was a terrifying time in my life. I don't think people realized how nasty girls were, even in nice areas like Manhattan Beach California.
I only bring that up because anyone thinking about plastic surgery needs to understand the impact that it has on so many aspects of your life. Surgery doesn't just impact you physically but also emotionally and socially. I was mature enough at 16 that I was emotionally stable enough to get through a procedure like this. I am so much happier with my body, and almost 9 years later I am still so glad that I did have the surgery. If anyone is seriously considering surgery, they have to do their research. Not only about the procedure but also the surgeon. You HAVE to select a surgeon that is not only board certified but also the RIGHT SURGEON FOR YOU.
