So is this the end?

Showers take forever. I spend alot of time checking things out. Soaping them up and enjoying the general rockhard-ness of these very strange breasts that have been recreated for my personal piece of mind. Lotioning them in the mirror, nursing the tips of the nips with bactroban, more lotion. They almost look hot, in the dark, when shiny. Further proving the everything looks better shiny theory. I'm very slowly starting to incorporate them back into my intimate life. Add like ten more "very's". Which is strange because for all practical purposes, they really have no feeling, but there still is something grounded in being a women that makes you long for the act. A comforting feeling.

I'm reminded of the skull on the mantel outside the Red Bull's lair entrance. You know through the grandfather clock? Ok, childhood film reference. The skull was a skull and bones, with no tongue to taste. However when he drank the flask of water that he thought was wine, his cheeks burned the pink warmth of a drunken memory.
The skull made the trail, for a fraction of a second. Here's the Trailer I own this on dvd. I might watch it tonight.

Too bad that cartoon/book's popularity was before the dawn of the Red Bull Energy Drink, there was some real potential for cross branding.

A couple more trips to the doctor for check ups. Actually I think the only reason I have to see them again is so they can take a photo for their boob binder. But I guess they deserve that much. No more surgeries. A few more invoices from the surgery centers. But as of now we officially can say the process is complete.

I have many unanswered questions. Like what now. How do you maintain yearly screenings when they can no longer do the regular mammograms. MRI I suppose. The chances of me running to the doctor for one of those is slim. The chances of the oncologist calling me to pressure a follow up appointment, also very slim. They've been non existent since the first round of surgery. And I suppose its now my responsibility. However, I fear there will have to be some sort of catastrophe for me to willingly return to a hospital.
Other random questions:
What if I get in an car accident and a large shard of glass punctures my implants?
What if i gain two hundred lbs, can you imagine how silly that would look?
Can I get these nipps pierced? I don't see why not.
And tattoos.. i wonder how deep the needles go. And how thin the skin is.
And when are these scars going to fade. and whats with this rash. and why does it feel like i'm getting poked with pins from time to time.

one of the strangest things

This most recent surgery is really too bizarre to share. The process itself is mind blowing. The words defining the situation are embarrassing. Fake nipples. Its nearly funny if it weren't burdened with the trouble of truth and necessity. The most memorable or notable detail of this particular operation is the bandages. Once you remove all the padding and stuffing of the first day, you're left with two yellow mounds of gauze. Take one of these lemon butter cookies, sew them to your skin, smash, repeat. Sprinkle with touches of frankenstein. And that's pretty much what I'm working with right now. The "cookies" stick out really far, show through my bulky green hoody, and smell slightly tainted.

More disturbing this week than body part duplication, was a message from my sister on facebook. Because of my issues, she went ahead and got a mammogram, they now want her to come back in for more testing. sick.