At Thanksgiving throughout the U.S.A. when families gather for that traditional gut-busting meal they fall into one of two camps: Stuffing or Dressing. Being a good Yankee, I call it stuffing and it does not involve cornbread. Having lived a big chunk of my youth in Florida, I do appreciate the dressing faction and have enjoyed many a fine Turkey Day indulging in Southern favorites. This year the real issue for me is not what goes on the table, but what goes in my bra.
Yes, I have a boob-related stuffing or dressing dilemma.
Yesterday, at twelve days out from nipple reconstruction and a bit of a breast revision, the plastic surgeon removed some, but not all of my stitches. Overall things are healing well and I no longer have to use multiple layers of 4X4’s cut with a small window so the nipple is even with the dressing. No goopy anti-biotic ointment either. Permission granted to wear something other than the uncomfortable surgical bra. So, what’s the problem?
Either I have to stuff my bra so the remaining stitches do not catch on the fabric or I have to tape dressings into place. Even the gentlest tape pulls at tender skin and I’d rather avoid it. I’m in that stage where my nice old bras are long gone, new bras can’t be purchased and the interim bras I’ve had for the last several months are a bit too large now. The rest of the stitches will come out in two weeks. One way or another, I have to fill that space.
Today I tried out stuffing instead of dressing. The idea of stuffing my bra for the first time at age 51 is quite amusing to me. What’s next? Maybe an outbreak of adolescent zits. I guess I should just be pleased the plastic surgeon was not worried about the small pocket of fluid build-up on my left breast and will leave it alone for now. Whether I spend Thanksgiving with stuffing, dressing or both, I have much to be thankful for.