ahh, the wonders of sitting in a hotel room with nothing on... the tv that is (nyuk nyuk)
so, i've been getting emails asking how i'm feeling and how the new girls are faring... i think my favorite is an email from Melissa (love you babe!) that simply said, 'how's the new rack?' to be honest, only in this past week could i really look at them. the gory details are as such:
ok, so breasts are always almost a little different... it's actually very normal to have fraternal twins out there strutting their stuff. mine, on the other hand, were basically a normal boob (albeit big, a D) and then a boob on steroids (a clemens-like tyrannical boob, dead set on taking over the nation... or at least trying to escape most clothing on a whim). living with them was dreadful. they attracted attention in all the wrong ways, they were uncomfortable and buying a bra meant picking a size somewhere in the middle, letting miss normal boob swim around like a lost goldfish, while the other clung to life as a virtual double boob, spilling over like a mini-muffin top... lovely.
about two years ago (although i had been thinking about getting this done since i was 19) i was on this big, awesome healthy thing. i was kicking some serious ass with my step classes and my spin crazy business and my running... ok, running might be inflating it a little... it was more like left, right, huff, puff, left, right, god this sucks, left, right, ooh a candy store... to prepare for activity i would have not only one sports bra, but two medieval-type torture devices. they'd squish all that bulk into one big uni-boob, which would continue to crash around in unison as if i were then just smuggling a ham hock.
then about a year ago, the back and neck pain were killing me. sitting at my desk, driving my car, riding the t, carrying my bag... all abnormally painful and driving me insane. i finally got the courage to go to the doctor and she referred me to a plastic surgeon. i went through all of the gyrations, only to have the insurance company nip it in the bud (no pun intended). they insisted i try physical therapy for at least six months (which seems retarded to me as they probably spent more on the silly pt than it cost for the total surgery). i obliged and then went back to the same surgeon. of course she was in a fairly aptly named posh little town on the south shore who decided that she didn't *need* to take insurance anymore... must be nice. hi, i'd like a facelift and a tummy tuck... oh no, i'll be paying cash... seriously? seriously
so *then* i went back to the insurance company and i asked for a list of approved plastic surgeons. i found a great doc, Dr. Terri Halperin. she is, in bostonspeak, wicked smaht. amazing in fact.
so, i've been getting emails asking how i'm feeling and how the new girls are faring... i think my favorite is an email from Melissa (love you babe!) that simply said, 'how's the new rack?' to be honest, only in this past week could i really look at them. the gory details are as such:
ok, so breasts are always almost a little different... it's actually very normal to have fraternal twins out there strutting their stuff. mine, on the other hand, were basically a normal boob (albeit big, a D) and then a boob on steroids (a clemens-like tyrannical boob, dead set on taking over the nation... or at least trying to escape most clothing on a whim). living with them was dreadful. they attracted attention in all the wrong ways, they were uncomfortable and buying a bra meant picking a size somewhere in the middle, letting miss normal boob swim around like a lost goldfish, while the other clung to life as a virtual double boob, spilling over like a mini-muffin top... lovely.
about two years ago (although i had been thinking about getting this done since i was 19) i was on this big, awesome healthy thing. i was kicking some serious ass with my step classes and my spin crazy business and my running... ok, running might be inflating it a little... it was more like left, right, huff, puff, left, right, god this sucks, left, right, ooh a candy store... to prepare for activity i would have not only one sports bra, but two medieval-type torture devices. they'd squish all that bulk into one big uni-boob, which would continue to crash around in unison as if i were then just smuggling a ham hock.
then about a year ago, the back and neck pain were killing me. sitting at my desk, driving my car, riding the t, carrying my bag... all abnormally painful and driving me insane. i finally got the courage to go to the doctor and she referred me to a plastic surgeon. i went through all of the gyrations, only to have the insurance company nip it in the bud (no pun intended). they insisted i try physical therapy for at least six months (which seems retarded to me as they probably spent more on the silly pt than it cost for the total surgery). i obliged and then went back to the same surgeon. of course she was in a fairly aptly named posh little town on the south shore who decided that she didn't *need* to take insurance anymore... must be nice. hi, i'd like a facelift and a tummy tuck... oh no, i'll be paying cash... seriously? seriously
so *then* i went back to the insurance company and i asked for a list of approved plastic surgeons. i found a great doc, Dr. Terri Halperin. she is, in bostonspeak, wicked smaht. amazing in fact.
she's also very masterful. i'll write more about my new 'perkies' in due time as they heal, but they do have the potential to be outstanding. high and tight, i say, high and tight! :)
2 comments:
nice picture ... love the visual. look forward to seeing you out there on the race circuit this summer !
wow! congrats!! i haven't talked to you in forever and see what i miss!!
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