In a previous blog, I informed you lovely people about the fact that my thighs and my bottom have always been the parts of my body that I wish were a little slimmer. My exact words were, ‘they’re a bit flabby it has to be said’. They’ve never really been the same since my four knee operations years ago following my many years as a dancer…..Well, am I glad I’ve got wobbly thighs now!! Read on….and I’ll tell you ALL about how my flabby thighs could, in fact, be my saviour when it comes to my reconstructed boob!
So, it was time for me to meet my breast surgeon in person and chat about all things ‘cancer in my titty’ related.
Ooohhhh, here we go….I feel it coming in….take a guess what I’m going to do here….off on a tangent I go! 🤣 The other day, I googled ‘alternative words for breasts’ so I wasn’t just using the obvious ‘breast’, ‘boob’, tit’ and ‘boobie’ in my blogs.
I am about to share with you my absolute favourites. But, firstly, let me tell you that when I was younger, say about 18, old enough to be in a pub….although I had been frequenting a certain local pub in the village, in which I grew up, for two years leading up to my 18th birthday. When I walked into the pub with one of those huge birthday badges pinned to my top with a 1 and an 8 on it side by side, the landlord, JT, said to me, with a look of horror on his face, ‘18????? You’ve been drinking in ‘ere for two years Abigail!’ (You will notice his usage of my full name here!) Ah well yes, JT, I know.’ I responded. ‘But isn’t it better that I’ve been in your good establishment lining your pub pockets sipping on my Hooch, Barcardi Breezers or Malibu and Coke rather than drinking Strongbow from a plastic bottle on the common round the corner?’ He didn’t say much to that. I think he managed to muster a grunt as he walked away with his hunched shoulders to feed his dog, THE BIGGEST DOG I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE by the way! Forget the TV star dog ‘Digby’, this dog, ‘Legend’, was not a dog-sized animal, he was more akin to a donkey! Massive hound it was. So, I’ll never know whether JT had a little smirk on his face as he turned away from me or a fierce frown realising that he’d been serving an under aged drinker for two years! Sorry JT. Bit late to apologise now, I know, but I did have such fun in your, slightly grotty, pub in my late teenaged years. Thank you for the good times. Now go and rest a few pieces of sweetcorn on those bushy, curled up eyebrows of yours. 😬
So, on the subject of fun in JT’s pub. I was 18 or so and I was always pretty flat chested before this time. Then suddenly, after going on ‘the Pill’, I’d acquired some rather large bazookas (well bigger than the bee stings I was used to walking around with. That’s what ‘they’ used to call my baps…people can be so cruel!) So, because having an ok set of mammaries was fairly new to me, I became so very proud of them. And….(oh my gosh, I think back now and cringe. Sorry Mum!)….I used to flash them to the older lads in the pub. Only for a couple of seconds before hiding them away again under my skin tight crop top. ‘Dear God Abbie’, I am saying to the older, more sensible version of me with way more grace and decorum, ‘what were you thinking girl?!’ I was then being goaded by the older lads to keep doing it on occasion. As soon as I heard the words, ‘Hey Abbie, show us yer Barrichellos!’ I knew it was my cue. I feel mortified now, looking back! Oh well, I can’t turn back the clock. Haven’t we all done things in the past we regret?!
Anyway, going back to my favourite alternative names for boobies, here is my list:
Breasticles, LalliesDouble-Whammies (It looks like I’ll have a Single-Whammie at the beginning of May!! 😳)Lady Lumps, Super Mamio Sisters, Brad Pitts, The Mitchell Brothers (shall I call my remaining one Grant or Phil?) Norks (oh I love this one and when you use this term, it’s best to say it like this…..Nooooooorks!) Jubblies (I hear this one a lot!) Rack (someone once said to me ‘nice rack’! I actually didn’t know what they were talking about (oh so innocent!). I had to ask the friend I was with what the chap was saying to me to which she replied, “just smile and say ‘oh thanks’”. Dear readers, if you have any favourite Boobie terms, please do share! It could entertain us all.
Sooooooo…..now it’s time to revert back to the meeting with my breast surgeon. I won’t bore you with all of the intricate details. But in a nutshell, I went along to meet her and to learn about what to expect from the mastectomy surgery, the procedure, the recovery time, that sort of thing. It was confirmed that I would most definitely need radiotherapy to zap the remaining cancerous cells and the we discussed breast reconstruction. Firstly, she asked my reasons for wanting a reconstruction. To which I replied that my work (daytime work and evening work) are industries where I’m ‘on show’, so to speak, and that from an emotional point of view, I feel I’d cope better with having two breasts rather than just one. I’m not taking anything at all away from those ladies who have had mastectomies and chosen to stay ‘flat’ as is the term, and not have a breast reconstruction, but for me, and my mental health, it is important. It’s all entirely a personal choice and we should all be allowed to have our personal reasons and respect each other’s views on this.
The surgeon continued to speak and inform me about the different types of reconstructions there are, generally, and then proceeded to tell me that breast implants, which I thought I would like to consider, wouldn’t be an option for me, as it’s strongly suggested that implants shouldn’t be inserted after radiotherapy. So that ruled that option out….first blow. I thought I’d have more options, more choices.
Then the surgeon spoke about the different parts of my body from which they could take natural materials, my fat or muscle. She was implying that because of my slight frame (oh I really, really LOVE you, I thought!) there wasn’t many places on my body from which she felt they could take fat to create a ‘lady lump’. Can you see where this is going? Well, I didn’t see it at first. I wasn’t cottoning on to what she was trying to tell me. At this point, I noticed that she sat forward a bit, knowing I was keen to have a breast reconstruction once my scar had healed, and told me that a reconstruction may not be possible. That I will never, at age 44, have a right breast. But I would still have my left breast. My emotions came up from the pit of my stomach, up towards my throat, and out through my eyes. I sobbed and sobbed! The tissues were handed to me and I drenched them. I regained my composure after a few minutes and we carried on.
Soon after, it was time for her to physically examine me. She confirmed that, yes, there was not enough fat on my stomach to be used to reconstruct a breast, there wasn’t enough fat on my back (‘back fat’ I like to call it) to reconstruct a breast. (My heart was in my throat!) Then it came to my bottom and thighs. There wasn’t enough fat at the top of my bottom to reconstruct a breast. Mixed emotions at this point…..Wahoo!!!!!!!!!!!! I metaphorically punched the air. In that moment I celebrated the fact that I didn’t have enough bum fat to aid the reconstruction. I no longer had what was perceived to be a sizeable, and a bit flabby, behind. YES!!!! My whole life I’ve had comments about my rounded posterior….no longer my friends. It ain’t got enough fat to make a bazooka….result! However, this obviously meant it was another place on my body that couldn’t help me in this situation. And wooosh….I’m back ‘down there’ again. What a wave of emotions in one 1.5 hour appointment. No wonder I was feeling so emotionally and mentally drained when I walked out of those hospital doors.
There was only one place left to look at….my inner thighs…..and here is where I repeat the title of this blog….Thunder thighs are GO!!!!!! I am superwoman with chunky thighs. (She goes and grabs her purple superhero cape and flies off to save the world from being crushed between her inner thighs!)
The surgeon spoke from behind the curtain where she had examined me and got hold of my thighs: “There is more here than I thought just from looking at you in your clothes”. There was definitely an element of surprise in her voice when she discovered there was something a bit more substantial to grab hold of.
Oh what a relief. My thigh fat can be used to recreate my right Breasticle. AND, even though it’s going to be a HUGE operation….cut open thighs, take fat from thighs, stitch up thighs, make a Boobie from that fat, stitch that up….what’s the greatest result here? Not only a new ‘Brad Pitt’, but….THINNER THIGHS!!!!!
Albeit a massive scar left on my inner thighs for the rest of my life but still…….Thunder Thighs Are Go!
#alwaysasilverlining 😀
Best I get eating my incredibly delicious but fattening homemade stilton and broccoli soup, with heavily buttered bread on the side, chocolate cake and perhaps some ice cream for dessert and get these thighs ready for action! (she says scoffing pizza in her face!!!!)
#belikeabbie
Abbie’s Boobie Blog 