dear blue cross, bend over. again. love, me

i saw dr. bates yesterday and he finally took my tape off (oh sweet sweet relief). scars look pretty amazing considering how recent my surgery was. he says i'm still fairly swollen and bruised in the upper poles and very tender under the pits. that is expected to last another six weeks or so. i'm settling into these foobs physically and emotionally. i can't believe what a transition this has been from the expanders. ANYWAY, i went to nordstroms after my appointment in search of a regular bra without an underwire (in other words, not a fricking sports bra that gives me uniboob and makes me feel completely unfeminine. i explained my situation to the group of women standing around (one said 'oh my god. those are the nicest looking reconstructed breasts i've seen in the 15 years i've worked here.' :D ). someone went and got a woman who specializes in reconstruction and insurance billing. wait, what!? yeah, bras are totally considered prosthetic devices after bmx/reconstruction. holler. i called my insurance right then and there and a series of miracles occurred. first, i only waited on hold for 15 minutes. i know, right? next, i got a guy who wasn't an asshole to me when i asked him to confirm that bras are 100% covered after a prophylactic mastectomy. 'you know what? i haven't gotten that question. let me put you on hold and check.' and he checked and came back and said 'you were right! it's covered. you just have to go to an in network provider. would you like me to look them up?' i said yes. he explained that the list was huge and offered to CALL EVERYONE ON THE LIST TO FIND SOMEONE IN MY AREA WHO COULD BEST SERVE MY NEEDS. a half an hour later he called me back (from los angeles) and said 'i spoke with tammy at the next step boutique in los gatos. you will be fully covered. she was very nice and will bill us for you. do you need directions?' OH. MY. GOD. ohmygod. seriously. so today i went to the next step. and i walked in and said 'is tammy here.' and she said 'you're celeste!' and i seriously left with four bras (plus one from yesterday at nordstrom) and prosthetic nipples (i fucking love these things!). uh-mazing. so yeah, they aren't the most amazingly sexy bras in the world but they are SO comfortable and they were free (and all expensive ones made by natori, wacoal, and amoena!) (oh, and i totally got rid of my fugly walmart bras, remember them?)

expansion #4 - 300 cc's is my magic number

ta-da! 32D's at 300 cc's! i'm happy with my size and will have just an 'over-fill' next week and then wait for  things to 'settle' during the next three months. then my exchange surgery. left boob looks rounder and smugger than ever. ALB continues to be trouble. see that yellow? that's a bruise from last week's fill.  nopple area pink and heal-y though right? close up of ALB. veiny, blech. well lookie there! the corners have seriously diminished and moved towards the nopple. these things DON'T QUIT. they don't change or move at all when i lay down. went to macy's to get measured. $65 bras marked down to $10 ? yes, please. amazingly comfortable and smooths out lumps and bumps under clothes. came home with three bras, two panties and a corset for $50! saved $151. schweet.

money money money money moneeeyyy

• standard mammogram: $708
• MRI mammogram: $4, 455
• semi-private room: $16,794
• drugs - general: $453.44
• supplies - non-sterile: $146
• supplies - expanders: $17,500
• operating room services: $38,566
• anesthesia: $8,528
• drugs: $992.13
• recovery room: $9,136

THAT'S $97,278.57 NOT INCLUDING DOCTORS.

don't ever ask me again why i am all for obamacare, pleaseandthankyou.

(still) 18 days - wherein my breasts are a metaphorical swarm of bees and also the one where i am sublimating the second realization of my own mortality through a search for ill-fitting button up shirts for post mx

(yes, i'm cross posting from facebook. for posterity and shit.)

dear gob, someone take away my keys. left to my own devices i went shopping again today. thankfully (?) i'm broke and limit myself to thrift stores and extreme clearance racks. i got four more button up shirts today (i only had one) and a pair of levis (all for $30, but still) (holy shit, look at me justify this). i've been contemplating packing my hospital bag and laying out outfits to wear but i've been successful in distracting myself by making chicken broth (also, wtf? i don't do that either...)

driving away from savers today i had the oddest sensation that my chest was being swarmed by bees, or crawling with ants. before diagnosing me with schizophrenia, i'll tell you that i mean this mostly metaphorically and am not actually contemplating removing my own breasts before may 8th. but the urgency. my brain is shouting: get these fucking stretch-marked death bags OFF of us. (no i don't believe in a separate spirit but apparently draw firm lines between mind and body when having psychotic breaks.)

19 days & the world spins madly on

while it may look like a boring zip front sweatshirt, it is actually the sweatshirt i have been searching for. hoodless, cute gathering in the back, and POCKETS ON THE INSIDE. DRAIN POCKETS. you know, i very very very rarely shop for myself but since i found out the surgery was a 'go' i've been out every single day, at least looking. this reminds me of that nesting feeling before giving birth. i'm feeling the urge to clean and purge and prepare and be as ready as humanly possible. i started thinking about it and in a way i imagine this is what someone feels like before gender reassignment surgery (i know, bear with me). i have this odd feeling that something that has been wrong for a while is about to be righted. that this is a new chapter.

everyone on my dad's side of the family has been friends with a woman up in washington who is something of an . . . intuitive? they check in with her at major points in their lives to sort of make sure they're on the right track. all she asks is that you write down a list of specific questions for her to ruminate on, giving no background or details. my dad goes to her with big things once or twice a year. a while back he went to her about something and she said something along the lines of: 'yeah yeah yeah, we'll get to that, but there's a big fat man here with me in a chef's coat and he is insisting that i tell you to test your thermometer. i have no idea why but he says you'll know.' no, my dad hadn't sought a psychic's advice for caramel information. his question wasn't about that. but she (and the man in the coat) were right, his thermometer was way off and causing lots of bad batches of caramel. he talked to her today, asked her about a location for the shop that we've been looking at (fyi, she said 'no, this isn't the right one, lots of turmoil here. there's one with three big windows and an awning. that's the right one.'). she volunteered that i'd made the right decision about something big. that it'll be difficult but that it's the right thing. *le sigh*

i'm feeling that way too. i just got off the phone with dr. runi (breast oncologist) who told me she'd looked at my mri from yesterday. apparently there overall 'warmth', similar to my last mri. in other words, areas that lit up when they did the contrast. she's not concerned about these because they're likely benign but they're areas that i assume would be followed and checked as i age. (

IF I WAS KEEPING THESE SAGGY OLD BREASTS, WHICH I'M NOT.)

hotspots are areas with increased blood flow - tumors get extra blood but injuries and hormone changes cause hotspots too i guess. in any case, i'll be very curious to see if there's anything precancerous in there once they send them (mah boobs) to the lab.

20 days

i had my final breast mri today. the guy that put my iv in kept trying to calm me as i kept saying,

seriously, i'm not nervous. i've done this before. a bunch. also, not afraid of needles. also, not afraid of my own blood. seriously i'm fine. i took a xanax. the claustrophobia thing isn't a huge deal.

apparently my calmness flustered him because he kept dropping things and making stupid comments like, 'wow, a breast mri huh? you look young for that.' 'wow, a mastectomy huh?' 'wow, you have kids huh? you started young. me too. i'm a grandpa and i'm only 36.' 'wow, you're like the super patient.' 'hang in there, it'll be okay.

the mri itself only took 20 minutes which seriously makes me wonder why the ones at stanford usually take an hour. the actual tech was super nice, brought me warm blankets and talked me through the whole thing. the xanax i took was so effective that i think i dozed off in the machine. then, when she started the contrast flowing through the iv apparently it blew a loose connection and i started bleeding everywhere. i had no way to tell her and i could feel the contrast going in so i just had to wait until the whole thing was over. 'oh no! you sprung a leak!' i bled all over the inside of a million dollar machine and then smeared it everywhere as she pulled me out. she promised to make the chatty phlebotomist clean it up. win.

i drug mara to walmart (aka the gates of hell) with me tonight and grabbed a couple of these sports bras that close in the front. i have no idea what size i'll be at the end of my surgery. they're taking the tissue. but they're adding the expanders with a little saline. but i'll be super swollen. but for how long? but i'll be getting frequent expansions. but they'll likely be lopsided at first. in any case, i'm spending minimal amounts on undergarments until i get the implants put it...

23 days

started doing a little shopping for my after my surgery today. all the lists i've seen say to get button up shirts or shirts that can be stepped into through the neck hole since arm mobility will likely be quite limited for a few weeks. i thought finding clothes that fall into this category would be easier. do buttons go out of fashion? thankfully big blousy things haven't. i got a few things. 

last night i was walking through old navy with lorenzo and he started crying. he said he's scared to be without me during my surgery. i reassured him that the doctors would be taking very good care of me and that his daddy would be taking very good care of him and his sister. i told him that he and parker are the reason that i'm doing this in the first place, so i can live to be very very very old and meet his grandchildren one day. this struck him as hilarious. *waaaahhhh*

also, if i die please play harry belafonte at my funeral. loudly. and repeatedly.