I Appreciate Your Concern...

....but really, I'm doing just fine. I don't have a fever. I'm past the throwing a blood clot stage. I back in the gym, traveling, going to work and doing everything like I used to before surgery.

No, I don't have keloids. I don't have any gaping holes. I don't look butchered, lopsided, bumpy...whatever. In fact, the one smiley face bikini line scar I do have is fading from memory.

I went to a Board Certified in Plastic Surgery, Certified by the American Board of Plastic Surgery, surgeon. We interviewed each other. He told ME what he can do and what he can't & won't do. He made me get a complete physical which included an EKG. After the procedure, I had to see him every week for 6 weeks straight. I had his pager and cell phone if I had ANY questions or concerns. The two times I did page him, he called back immediately and walked me (Ron) through what he wanted us to do. He had me into Advanced Radiology for an ultrasound within 2 hours of a followup appointment cause he didn't like the fact that one leg swelled more than the other. Turned out to be nothing but me overexerting myself too soon. He was just anal retentive, obsessive compulsive, perfectionist enough for me.

Would I do it again? I don't know...it is too soon and my discomfort is still a recent memory. Do I regret it. HELL NO! Did I have some kind of self hate? Are you kidding me? You don't have to have some kind of self hate, low self-esteem complex to have plastic surgery. Do you have to hate yourself to spend hours in the gym, starve yourself, or to join WW, Jenny or any other weight loss program. NO. After 23 years of struggling, fighting, beating back my weight, spending a fortune on personal trainers, gym memberships, weight loss programs I was sick & tired of being sick and tired. I chose to get some surgical help cause I could. I didn't need to "just be satisfied." Nothing more sinister involved.

I do appreciate your calls and emails, but really, I'm okay and happy. No worries. Nothing more to see here...move along.

A Diva's Gotta Have Shoes

I gotta have shoes. NEED them. So let's just say that I have a shoe fetish and over the past two weekends, I had me a sweet tooth for me some shoes. Yeah baby. The excuse I used (as if I needed one) was that I just HAD to have something new to wear for the 80th Birthday Celebration that I am throwing for my Grandma on Saturday. I can NOT be out done by the Original Diva herself. Now that woman is like Old School Diva. I've gotta come correct.



Anyhoo...I did some damage





And what I love about some of these shoes (the Betsy Johnson's & the Naughty Monkey's) were that they came with an extra set of taps. Just too cool.


I bought the Tadashi Cocktail dress for the party in red to rock at the party. I'm sure Grandma will come in a full ball gown & gloves (or pretty near close).




And YES, Virginia, the new body does rock in this kick azz dress. HA! I even took the bod out for a spin at the gym this week. I was winded a bit but I still got it. I rocked the Master Step class Saturday morning. Gonna try the Spin class tomorrow. Don't want all that money spent to go to waste. Heck Naw!

I was crackin myself up at the gym when this lady I take step with on a regular came up to me and said "Wow, you've lost a lot of weight." I smiled and said thanks, but I was waiting for her to ask me how I did it or is that your body? Kinda like when people walk up to ya and ask "Is that your hair?" I was chuckling to myself as I walked out of the gym thinking that I would answer, the same way I do the hair question..."Why, of course it is my body (hair). I have a receipt." I was crack myself up.

Spree over. Now have to focus on the details for the party.

Drains, Pain & Adjusting "Your Package"

I now COMPLETELY understand why men are always adjusting their "package". I have been carrying around 2 surgical drains for the past 3 weeks in the exact same position as a man's genitals and I now understand why, on occasion, they have to "adjust" some things. Okay...for the uninformed...when you have a tummy tuck, you end up with 2-3 surgical drains that drain excess fluid from your body.

And where, as God is my witness, does a surgeon see fit to place these little jewels of medical science. Well, ladies...stand up, look down at your pubic mound and imagine 3 holes coming our of the front of your coochie. So, put your thumb on your belly button and then reach your index finger (the one right next to you thumb) to to middle of you pubic mound and that is where 2-3 drains will be coming out. LORD JESUS HAVE MERCY!

One of my 3 drains fell out at week 2 all by itself, thank the Lord. But I had the other two in for a full 2 weeks and if it was not for the Grace of God and at least half a perc every 4-6 hours, I would have simply gone insane! INSANE!

So, I got these two drains coming out the front of my coochie and I have to like get dressed, walk, sit... DO STUFF. Let me just tell you, that "package" occasionally gets in the way, falls out of place (despite serious attempts to tack, pin, tape those things down) and they just pain get situated in the wrong worst kinda way at the most inappropriate moment. You gotta "adjust your package" or I was gonna be suckin down another perc quick like. These puppies pull (they are allegedly stitched to your body) and JUST PLAIN HURT LIKE SHEEAT! That's it. PERIOD. Hand me a glass of water so I can down this pain killer...anybody got a glass of wine to go with that?

I'm walkin in the mall, trying to get a little exercise as prescribed (as well as spending some more of Ronnie Bears moola) and that tube to the drain slips in between you know where...WELL! you gotta get it outta there! You gotta adjust. So, how do you do it without anyone knowing. Well, a lady will go to the restroom and take care of her business as I did. My husband would just grab, pick, move, "ADJUST" his stuff all incongneeeeegro like...as if I didn't see you do it. WHATEVER.

But now I understand. It's a habit born of having a package attached to the front of your body for life. I just had mine for a few weeks. A man has his for LIFE. Sometimes stuff just gets in the way of daily activity and has to be "adjusted" or "moved". Ron just told me that I still don't understand the complete burden "us men carry around. And some of us are more burdened than others and it requires more adjustment." Sometimes I just want to SMACK him...but he did pay for all.

I got my drains out yesterday. They were coming out PERIOD! I told the doctor that I was on the EDGE OF SANITY! One more days with these puppies and I would absolutely SCREAM and jump off some ledge becoming the future Bionic Woman. He told me he would take them out, my numbers were good. Lay back and hold on...this may hurt. WTF?!! Well, I do what he says...he yanks em out and I don't feel a thing. THANK YOU, JESUS. Now I have to teach myself to walk again like a lady and NOT like a man with a huge PACKAGE between her legs. They say 28 days makes a habit. It will now take a month to walk with my legs closed again.

The upside...I wore a pair of jeans today that I haven't gotten into in years. Praise Jesus for blessing the hands of my surgeon. My scar will be undetectable in a few months. He really is an artist and has been blessed. My skin is still sensitive at week 4. Doc says I have about 10-15lbs of swelling to go down. REALLY!!!! He advised I not buy new clothes or alter anything until all the swelling has gone down and he won't take final pictures until 6-9 months after surgery to guarantee all swelling is gone. REALLY!!!! He finally told me the total fat removed....3 2ltr bottles of soda full of fat as an equivalent. DAMN!

Let me just say, this is not of the faint of heart. Looks easy on TV...cause they don't show you the deal during the 6 weeks in between the before and after...but it ain't. Gird your loins, be prepared for a walk with drains & pain. I still don't sleep right...and lets talk getting back on the sex wagon (AND I OH SO MISS IT) at a later date. Ron might not let me discuss the first day back to sex on a blog like it was the first day back to school. He's a closet freak and likes to keep it that way (as he reads this over my shoulder...go away).

Drop me a line if you want more info.

Thank you JESUS! I walking "package" free now!

My Alter Ego - Uniqua

Uniqua is her name and her species. She’s graceful, agile, and as light on her feet as a ballerina. But when it comes to playing, she’s more “adventure” than “ballet.” Unafraid and daring, Uniqua loves to run, climb, and ride her bike faster than anyone. She also loves to tell silly jokes, make silly noises, and tickle her friends. Yes, Uniqua is mischievous, but she’s also sweet – she knows whether her friends are happy or sad, and she’ll always say something to show that she cares.

Unless you have kids and watch the Backyardigan's, you have no idea, but Uniqua is MY GIRL, MY ALTER ego. She has always been the super hero plump girl that that was lurking inside me and always waiting to break out.

Well, I went and had "some work done"....(which I had to get several brochures from Dr. Markmann's office since now I have a "following"...as if I was the colored girl guinea pig for plastic surgery...considering his practice is now about 70% African-American women)... and like I've said before...NOBODY TELLS YOU ABOUT THE IN-BETWEEN...all you see on Discover Health & Extreme Makeover is the before and after. Well, let me tell you there is some SHEEEEYAT during the in-between and me and Uniqua are having a conversation again.

Between the body compression suit, the corset, the 3 drains, the foam padding in certain places to keep the fluid down, the swelling, blah, blah, blah (I'll spare you the more gruesome details), I don't look a damn different. At least in clothes. So Uniqua and I had a pity party over 800mg of M.otri.n and a val.i.u.m, until Ron decided that I would probably feel much better if he sat me in the shower for a while (we have a seat in the shower). So, it takes like FOREVER to get me out of the clothes I have on, unhook my drains, remove the corset, the pressure stockings, the compressions suit and WHALAH I'm naked.

Ron immediately starts mumbling and cursing under his breath..."this sh*& is going to cost me more than just the procedure. Now I'm looking at alterations, new clothes, hell." When you can look past the swelling and stitches (which will dissolve, I've been told) I will eventually be FIERCE!!!!

Right now Uniqua is still hanging on to the title role.

In Sickness & In Health

For those of us who have been married a long times, there are moments when you wonder "does my other-half really love me...or how much do they really love me?" You know...those random thoughts when you've been with someone a LONG time. Well, I can tell you that when you are part of the sick & shut in...THAT IS WHEN THE REAL TEST OF UNDYING LOVE...No matter what...shines through.

Here are some examples:
1. When you have the stomach flu and stuff is coming from both ends and you pass out right off the of the toilet....YOU KNOW THAT YOUR MAN LOVES YOU...when you wake up and ask him to wipe you up and put on something decent before the paramedics get up the stairs. My man cleaned me like a newborn baby, puts on a nightgown and brushes my hair before the paramedics get up into the bathroom. NOW THAT IS LOVE.

2. You get food poisoning on the way to the Caribbean. I take an airsick bag off the plane, just in case, and end up having to use it. My man stands beside me, opens his coat and blocks every one's view and I blow chunks into this little airsick back.
He man wipes my face with his only handkerchief, gets me a wheelchair and arranges for a flight attendant to "attend" to me in the ladies room while we wait for our connecting flight. NOW THAT IS LOVE.

3. You have elective plastic surgery and your man is right there with you, emptying your drains, helping you unclog them, helping you remove a pain pump catheter (and not one bit of pain) and helping with sponge baths. NOW THAT IS LOVE.

4. You finally have to go #2, but your are in a compression suit. It is near impossible to hold the suit open in the back and do your business AND wipe clean. My man, WHO LOVES ME, holds the opening open while I take care of business and then cleans me all up (okay --- he did take it to an extreme for a moment there when I thought he was gonna try and get the insides of me spotless too!). Did he flinch, did he make a face, did he say anything derogatory? NOPE. Just took care of business, asked if I was comfortable and tucked me back into the chaise that he set up for my comfort. NOW THAT IS LOVE.

Would I do the same. OF COURSE, without question. Just the look in his eyes as he ministers to me. The care, the gentleness. The way he wipes away my tears and consoles me when I think I can bear no more.

I know my man love me...in sickness and in healht.

Metamorphosis - Part 3

I had a bad moment last night. When the doctor says 1-2 happy pills every 4 hours...HE MEANS IT. No joke, don't be playing with the time cause it is extremely hard to get yourself back from screaming to a steady state of dull ache.

I messed up. I got up to do my walk and decided to clean up a tad, brush my hair, empty my drains, etc and as I was trying to shuffle back to to the chaise that Ron has set up as my comfort station, WHAM! - I knew something was horribly wrong. It hurt so bad to get back into the chair, I was crying up a storm, body trembling. Ron started freakin out...Jordan was rubbing my hair and putting a cold compress on my head. It took an hour after they got 2 perks & a val**m in my system before I stopped hyperventilating and was calm enough to go to sleep. I got a great night of sleep, but was up at 4:00am. I decided to get ready for my 1st post-opt appointment...I sponged bathed again, teeth, coiffed my hair and even put some makeup on. I then sat in a chair until about 7:00am waiting for Ron to get up. We dropped Cara off at school and went to see Dr. Markmann.

He was very impressed with how well I was healing and Ron was like "WOW! even through the swelling I can see a huge difference. You have a lot of altering your are gonna have to do. How much is this REALLY gonna cost me." Made my day.

Well, I'm tucked into my comfort station (chaise lounge w/lots of pillows, computer, cell, remotes, books, puzzles, water/juice, PILLS...all with hands reach) Tomorrow, I think I'm going to try 20 minutes outside on the deck getting some fresh air.

Till next time...and DON'T FORGET YOUR DOSE!

Metamorphosis - The truth behind the scenes

I'm not even sure that this post will be coherent - CAUSE I'M SUCKIN DOWN DRUGS LIKE THEY CANDY. I am not missing a dose. When the time comes when I can suck down another happy pill, I'm there.

Plastic Surgery AIN'T no joke. I have no idea how the people who lost hundreds of pounds from bariatirc surgery and then have a Body Lift stand it. THIS MESS HURTS LIKE A MUG!!! The tummy tuck is what hurts the most. I now have a new understanding of phrase...Beauty IS pain. Oh Yeah.

- I was told that I would be in a body shaper for weeks. Yep.
- I was told that I would have a minimum of 3 drains. Yep...but they didn't explain to me that I would have to get up every few hours to drain them my dag on self. EEWWW!
- I was told that I wouldn't be able to stand up straight for about a week. Yep...but they didn't tell me how much it was gonna hurt to just move around.
- I was told that I would be swollen cause of all the fluids they put in ya. Yep...but they didn't tell me I would really look like the Pillsbury dough girl. I can finally bend my fingers to even type.
- I was told that that I would love the results. Yep...just when will that be?

When the swelling goes down perhaps I'll be able to share some before and after pictures for you. This too shall pass and I will be fierce!

Metamorphosis

I never thought that my letter to my sister would stir up so much controversy. WHEW! It has been the discussion of my friends (who came in town to celebrate Jordan's 16th Birthday) AND family...my mother definitely has strong feelings on the subject of my sister...VERY understandable considering she has had to deal with the angst, guilt, heartache of having Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as daughters. God Bless her strength. I look at her sometimes and don't understand how she keeps standing when weight of it all is just sometimes too much for anyone to bear. I know where I get it from. So, when she occasionally has a Foamy Rant - ya gotta let her have it - I think she's entitled.

Anyway, it was a blast on Saturday night, sitting around the kitchen island while my girl/classmate Ila (who is "anointed" with the gift of apple martini's) practices mixology and we argued the merits of sending the letter or not, reminisced over family drama that is funny years later, tellin lies mixed with some truth AND........

....discussing my impending Metamorphosis tomorrow...

Metamorphosis

"A change in appearance, physical form or substance, a striking alteration in appearance of character, changes in form and life function...

... an all together makeover, rejuvenation or artistic enhancement; to help make you look the way you fell inside - helping to give you the facial or body features you desire."

The Diva's metamorphosis begins tomorrow at 8:30am.

Enhancing beauty through Finance.

HA! - how's that for controversial.

Nip & Tuck - The Consult

SoooOOO, I went for my free consultation (Mother's Day Gift from my daughter) at Erin's Plastic Surgeon (see http://www.discoverthebeauty.com/). I was sitting in the waiting room, filling out the mounds of psycho analysis and other paperwork - just for a looksie - wondering am I nervous or excited. I decided that I was about to burst from excitement. This was something I talked about around the table with girlfriends...

Girlfriend -"Girl, would you ever have plastic surgery?"
Lisa - "Hell Yeah! Beauty CAN be bought."
Girlfriends - "That's so vain. You are already beautiful."
Lisa - "Yep. Already knowed this. But a nip and tuck here and there would be the ultimate."

I already spend a small fortune on beauty refinement... as I did today at the nail "place"... pedicure, gel fill w/french manicure & a little nail art work, COMPLETE face wax (damn I can get hairy) - $100 bucks. And as a side note - I really hate not knowing what they are saying about my hands/feet/face when I'm there - they seem to hover around and all speak Vietnamese. Makes me freakin crazy! Anyway, then there is the spa visits. Gotta get that hot stone massage (if you haven't had one - well what the freak are you waitin' on!), body wrap, scrub, facial evray now and den.

Well, the whole consult thing was NOTHING like the TV show "Nip & Tuck." My doctor did not ask me "Soooo, what do you hate about yourself?" Like damn. No, this doctor read through my packet, looked up and said "What can I help you improve upon." I liked him already. I told him my droll sob story of working out like a freakin mad woman, the roller coaster weight loss/gain/loss, the major abdominal surgery (to remove HUGE fibroid) and the fact that my tummy just won't go back despite my best efforts. He didn't even flinch. "Okay, why don't you put on a robe and lets take a look together." Alrighty. Now the robe was to die for. I brought this small cute handbag with me and I (for the life of me) could not figure out how to get this like brushed silk robe in my bag. DAMN IT. I take off my clothes (cept for the undies) and WE take a look.

I think for sure that he has some of those carnival mirrors in the exam rooms. I KNOW MF WELL that I didn't look that foooked up before I got there. He rolls down my underwear - are you feelin me on this - ROLLS down - OVER the TUMMY BLOB! and sits back on the chair and starts telling me what he can do. Lipo alone ain't gonna fix this blob baby! You gonna need an extended abdominoplasty and then to get your "contours" correct, I recommend that we do liposuction of the rear, back and flanks. OKAY. "Is there any other areas of concern?" I almost laughed. I said, "While your at it, can you take a little off the inner thigh?" I was kinda jokin ya know. He said, "No problem. I can't guarantee that your inner thighs won't touch at all, but we can definitely fix that."

WHERE DO I SIGN?

Now this man is not the finest in the land, but I have to give it to him. He has wonderful bedside manner, a dry sense of humor that I like (same as Ron), and he seemed to me to be a perfectionist - very meticulous. I liked him immediately,

WHAT's YOUR FIRST OPENING?

"Please step into the office next door and Diane will help you schedule your surgery."

I couldn't get on the schedule until Sept 4th, but I signed on the dotted line, paid my deposit. I'm in like flint. I can't freakin' wait.

So, here are some of the questions/comments I've received so far:

"Your cheating! No Fair!" - damn skippy! Life ain't fair.
"What if something happens" - then something happens...God has a plan for me.
"BEEYATCH" - already knew that - what's a diva to do
"I wouldn't spend my money like that." - I ain't spendin yo money. I'm spendin MINE!
"Are you scared, this is major surgery." - Nope (okay, maybe a little). I've had major surgery before. Like I said, God has a plan for me. No need to be scared (fear is the devils work) - I just pray.
"Your boobs will be too big/out of proportion." - GOOD! I like my boobs (my girls as I call them). And they still stand up cause of all those push ups.

No worries. Right now, I'm having the time of my life and I'm gonna enjoy the ride while I can. I'll keep ya posted along the way. Haven't decided on the before and after pics yet. I don't even want to see em. Might be too much.

You can see some incredible before and afters of Dr. Markmann's work at his website http://www.discoverthebeauty.com/