Of Noobs and Newpples

All I can say is that it’s a good thing I’m not too sensitive about this whole breast reconstruction gig. 

 Okay, first off, a week or so ago I got an email from a well-meaning friend asking me how my “breast augmentation” was going.  Yeah.  Um.  That’s not exactly what I’ve got going on.  See, ’cause augmentation is what people do who aren’t satisfied with their boobs and think they need to add to them.  Reconstruction is what people do when they’ve had one lopped off because it tried to kill them, and they want to attempt to look halfway normal again.  Minor differences, I know, but please understand that more sensitive types might have been completely offended by being asked about their augmentation.

 Then there’s the matter of having my underwear come back from surgery in a sealed bag marked “biohazard”.  You have no idea how feminine and dainty that makes a girl feel.  Now, I know you’re probably thinking I soiled my britches and that’s why they handled them like a sample of the black plague dipped in anthrax.  In fact, I did not poo myself, or anything of the sort.  All I did was wear my undies to surgery—like they told me to.  I guess I should have asked, because I knew Dr Grasee would be making an incision in my groin area (more on that later) but the nurse told me to put on the gown and leave on the drawers, so that’s what I did.  But apparently I shouldn’t have.  And so, per Department of Homeland Security regulations (or something like that) my undies and I came back separately from surgery, me on a gurney and my underwear in a baggie, hermetically sealed for the safety of the population at large. 

 Now that you’re all curious about that groin incision, let’s move on to creation of a noob and its corresponding newpple.  Okay, as you all know, since August I’ve had the expander (aka angry boob wallet) under my pectoral muscle.  This week’s surgery was to replace that with a nice, soft, friendly silicone implant, and also to construct a nipple, or newpple, as I like to call it.  Well, the material for that has got to come from somewhere. 

 A few weeks back, I asked Dr Grasee where she was planning on taking the skin for the newpple from.  Pointing to the area where my leg attaches to my torso, she said, “Well, I’m thinking about taking it from here.”  “You’re not going to make me a nipple I have to shave, are you?” I mean, I knew that line would get a laugh, but seriously, I really don’t need some high maintenance nipple with a built-in perpetual sweater.  While Tricia, Dr Grasee’s nurse, was doubled over with laughter, Dr Grasee remained totally on-task, still examining my skin while matter-of-factly stating something about removing nipple hair all the time.  Ah, the wonders of cosmetic surgery.

 And so it was that my newpple was constructed from a hunk of skin from the crease between my leg and my belly.  I’m not sure how long the actual incision was, but I’m taped up for about five inches, which has got me wondering: good gravy, how big is this thing? You see, I haven’t seen my newpple yet, because it’s under the big top.  Indeed, the newpple is currently protected by a kind of greasy gauze tent that is sewn to the noob—which makes me feel almost as sexy as having my underwear handed to me in a biohazard bag.  This sewn-on dressing will be removed at my post-op visit next Tuesday.  I can’t wait.  For a couple of reasons, but mostly because of the comic potential.  You know you’re in for a laugh when your post-op paperwork says “The nipple will shrink by at least one-half its size over the next few weeks.  Please do NOT be alarmed by the initial appearance!”

 So, you know, I’m like expecting something that looks about like my big toe, or a hot dog or something.  Awesome.

6 Responses to “Of Noobs and Newpples”

  1. Kylie Says:

    You are HILARIOUS! I am so proud to be your sis! Good luck with your newpple.

  2. Theresa Says:

    I love how you find the humor in all these crazy things! I hope you heal quickly and well.

  3. Mary Creger Says:

    Now that you have noob and newpple, what happens to poor little ol’ foob???
    It seems that you are feeling better since your wit it BACK!
    Good, I was a tad worried about whether or not the doc did away with your sense of humor on the table. I am glad that she didn’t. And I am glad to know about the bio hazard before I go in for reconstruction. I will make sure I wear my ickiest undies!

  4. Ryan Says:

    I think Foob and Newpple should start dating, you know like he is head over heels for Newpple.
    If they had a kid, it could be Fewpple.
    Also, for the record, I am biting my lip excruciatingly hard to avoid making some sixth-grade innappropriate joke about your biohazard status. Just so you know. HAHA
    Glad you are doing well and keeping your humor about you. I am in stinky town for holidays, so please have a great one!

  5. Nunya Says:

    No lie – this may just be your funniest post yet. Awesome. Disturbing – but awesome.

  6. The Moody Foodie Says:

    Hey Mary~I think you’re onto something there. “Put my undies in a biohazard bag, huh? Well, then let’s make sure they live up to their biohazard reputation…now where did I put that pair of stained, holey, dingy gray undies with the worn out elastic?” With that attitude, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a Hautean.

    Ryan~Of course you’re biting your lip. I’d expect nothing less.

    Nunya, Kylie & Theresa~Thanks. You know, I didn’t think the post turned out as funny as it could have, but hey, maybe it did.

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