It's You: Edition Two

Continuing in my efforts to recognize those that are awesome, I give you the second installment of "It's not me, it's YOU." 

The Brian Edition!

Not all Brians are alike - some actually really suck - but I'm honored to know a couple of really exceptional ones. 

Brian Green - is a superhero. Wherever there is sadness, Brian will be there. Whenever darkness threatens, Brian will lend you his only lamp. Whenever a bicycle breaks, or a swimmer cramps, Brian will lend a helping hand. This Brian is a frickin' champ. The Green Machine, as he is fondly called, is truly someone who would lend you the shirt off his back while giving you pointers on how it should be worn for maximum warmth. Brian is, simply put, a rockstar. 

Brian Trudeau - is the greatest brother in all the land. He is the funniest, most charming, and most inclusive person; putting everyone at ease. This Brian makes funny faces, uses silly voices, likes playing board games, and loves sharing craft beer with all who enter his home. Brian T. is super passionate and throws his heart into what he loves, whether that be smoking meat, fly fishing, brewing beer, making his wife happy, or bribing his girls to play D&D. On top of all this, he sings a mean Toto. 

Brian Carroll - is a fantastic coworker, a rowdy team player, and a childlike golfer of discs. Brian swears like a craggy sea captain, doesn't take shit from anyone, and stands up for what he believes in. He is one smartass SOB, but is loved by all. Brian is a great friend - someone who is always in your corner, and always making people laugh. This Brian is especially magnificent because he acts all grouchy and tough, but has a secret gooey center. 

None of these Brians are "my" Brians. They have wives and other lives, but I'm so damned lucky to be able to spend the quality time with them that I do. I'm glad their families share these Brian gems with me (thank you Brenda, Amy, and Sarah!), and that I get to experience a small portion of what makes them so rad. So raise your glasses to these Brians (and ignore the crappy ones). Huzzah!

Franken-boobies

By now, quite a few of you know that on February 1st, I went under the knife to get a bilateral mammography (breast reduction). For some reason I feel compelled to share my experience, just in case there are some of you out there that have ever contemplated this procedure. Be warned - there may be some oversharing here, people. You decide.

I won't go into all of the details that led me to wanting this surgery - it's boring. However, I will say that I've had issues since puberty, and was wearing a G to H cup size. They don't sell those in stores, folks. My girls had gotten completely out of hand and expensive, and I was fed up. 

Today I am eight weeks post-op. Up until now it has been a pretty terrible experience. My chest was straight up Bride of Frankenstein, folks.

Here are some of the lower moments.

• The surgery is outpatient. As soon as you are up and talking, the hospital cuts you loose. Bouncing around in the car on the way home was... uncomfortable. Once the good drugs wear off, IT HURTS. Most of you have had surgery before - I have not. Did I say, IT HURTS?
• Eight days post-op I was in the emergency room. My breast had become so hard, and so swollen that I could barely function. An ultrasound showed several pockets of fluid, so I was rushed to another hospital for a second surgery to insert drain tubes.
• DRAIN TUBES SUCK. I'm talking rubbery, floppy rigatoni noodle tubes hanging from new incisions, that trailed boob juice wherever I roamed. It was horrible. The tubes were attached by one or two stitches that constantly caught on EVERYTHING. Anytime I changed my dressings, it was an exercise in pain tolerance. 
• Sweet Jesus - the swelling! Even with the tubes I was so swollen and uncomfortable.
• The tubes were removed after a week, and it was immediate pain relief. I was like a dog getting off a leash. I almost ran outside to sing in a pasture. However, now I had two open incisions that still dripped and drained. 

So here I am, eight weeks after the surgery, and I am finally pain free, other than just a little discomfort at the end of the day. Sleeping on my side (either one) is still a little hard, and a bit painful. I am still nowhere near the size my chest will be eventually, and I've still got angry skin around the incisions, and a bit of swelling. I'm having some body issues - I don't look like myself, and my boobs are weird, and it's freaking me out a little.

Do I regret it? No.

Someday I'll look back on this experience and laugh, and wonder what took me so long to take the plunge. I'm sure the memory of the pain and limitations will fade, and I will look in the mirror and see some impressively perky sport boobs.You'll know when that time comes, because I'll be running, biking, or swimming past your house will a smile on my face.