"Do your boobs hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them over your shoulder like a Continental soldier?
Do your boobs hang low?
Do your boobs stretch wide?
Do they reach from side to side?
Can you use them as a parachute,
or as wings that let you glide?
Can you cast a cooling shadow over most of Colorado?
Do you boobs stretch wide?
Are your boobs too big?
Are they heavy as a pig?
Do they bruise your cerebellum,
when you dance an Irish jig?
Can they function as the anchors for a fleet of oil tankers?
Are your boobs too big?
-sung to the tune Do Your Ears Hang Low?
The answer is yes, yes, and yes.
Pendulous. I hate that word. It ranks right up there with 'obese' in my personal list of obnoxious words. But it is an effective way to describe breasts that have become friends with your belly button. In fact, my OBGYN did a beautiful job of using 'pendulous' in a letter that she wrote for me, on my behalf, explaining to my insurance company WHY they should cover the cost of a surgical procedure that I have been wanting and waiting for - for over half of my life.
Twenty four years is a long time to live with large breasts. Well, they were large. Now, after three pregnancies they are XXXL - size 38E to be exact. Oh yes, ladies, the alphabet doesn't stop at triple D. It just keeps going, and going, and going. When I read this letter that my doctor wrote, I felt a sense of shame that cut so deep I am not sure I can ever let it go. How did I go from a generously endowed 16 yr old, to a woman who can't see her stomach because her boobs are in the way?
About a year ago I began to seriously investigate what it would take to get a breast reduction. I was done having kids. I was tired of the incredible back aches, shoulder aches, underwires, bra + sports bra to keep things in place, shoulder grooves, specialty big bras that cost a small fortune, constant visits to the chiropractor, and the inability/reluctance to do anything that induced 'bounce'. No dancing, jogging, jumping, or hopping. I read through what the insurance company's policy was, what they required for documentation, and I started jumping through the hoops. I didn't really have too much extra to do - I was already in physical therapy for my shoulder anyway. They also require evidence of shoulder grooving, pain, treatments, and a scaled percentage of what needs to be removed. I went for a pre-consult with my plastic surgeon in early June. I was in tremendous pain. My bra strap went right over the surgical site where they debrided my AC joint. It was (and still is) excruciating. Pictures were taken and I spent the next three weeks gathering my letters of recommendation for breast reduction - five letters in all. The whole package was submitted to my insurance company on July 8th. A few days later I received a rejection letter, dated July 9th.
I was devastated. I thought I was an absolute shoo-in! Among other things, the letter stated that there was no evidence of shoulder grooving.
HERE is your evidence!
I took this just now. It is 8:58 a.m. I took my bra off at 9:30 last night, when I changed into pjs for bed. So that is 11.5 hours without a bra, and the groove is there, as plain as day. My bras have left a physical imprint on my skin for as long as I can remember. The letter stated that my PS's surgical plan for tissue removal was under the required amount (600 g, each side, in my case) and it also said that there is no documentation that my 'physical discomfort' has no other causal connection. Bullshit. There was also no effort on my part to use medication to regulate my pain. w.t.f. So I am supposed to pop pills for the rest of my life and ignore the elephant in the room that just happens to be a permanent part of my chest?
I want a breast reduction. Not for cosmetic reasons, but for quality of life reasons. My PS resubmitted my request, and I am now entering week 3 of a 30-day appeal waiting period. I am pissed. I had set aside the whole month of August for the surgery and the initial recovery period. My case is cut and dry! I have wanted this, and dreamed of this for years. It is painful to walk around with this much weight hanging from your chest wall, day after day, year after year. It messes with your spine, your neck and your shoulders. It interferes with breathing, and it restricts your movement.
My frustration is what has fueled my walks as of late. I have imaginary conversations with the evil insurance people. I threaten to take a roll of duct tape and strap on 3 lb (5 lbs would be better) hand weights to their chest and then make them jog down the street or jump rope. Even better would to make fake silicone breasts and make them wear a bra everyday, lugging around all that weight for the next 24 years - and tell them to pop some aspirin and get over it. Bastards.
I know I sound bitter. And I know I had a role in this, too. But I can't control for the genetics part of the equation, or for what three pregnancies did to my body. I have lost five pounds in the past three weeks. Know where it came from? From the waist down. So the magical advice that I just need to lose some weight doesn't apply here. They are not going to all of a sudden shrink in size. There is also the connection between exercise intensity and burning fat. I can't increase my intensity if I can't jog, hop, dance and so forth. I can't do those things when I have these boobs flopping all around - even while wearing a bra and TWO sports bras. So I am at an impass.
My journey here is two-fold - dropping the weight
and getting the breast reduction done. As each day passes, my inner-panic increases that I will be denied,
again. I'm trying to stay positive, but it's hard.
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