At 5:30 this morning, I returned to Method 360. Woot woot!! I loved every minute of my daily classes with Trish and Kristin in December through March and couldn't wait to start again. Everyone was excited to see me back, and as I walked in, Trish said, "Just don't pop your boob." Ten minutes later, I popped my boob.
Seriously. I was doing some army crawl on the floor and I thought that my right side was sweating a bit more than it should. I peeked into my shirt and my sports bra was wet right on the front, so I ran to the bathroom. When I lifted up my shirt, I saw my that skin had opened up like an eye. The reddish purple implant was perfectly exposed through the 5 or 6 inch gap. Since I didn't take a picture, I've taken a page out of one of the funniest Mommy blogs I know of and I've drawn you a crappy picture of what I saw.
The oddest thing to note about this picture is that I didn't draw any blood. That's because there wasn't any. I mean, a little pinkish liquid, but probably only a few tissues worth. The implant itself seemed to be a pinkish purple color. (I think it started out clear, but it's been in my body for 5 weeks.)
So I returned to the gym floor, put my sweat towel between my exposed implant and bra (luckily, I hadn't really begun to sweat yet), and quickly realized that maybe Kristin could help since she has had these surgeries, too. The conversation went as follows:
Shari - "Kristin, sorry to interrupt. My stitches are popped wide open." (Lifts shirt.)
Kristin - Looks. Runs away. (I thought she was going to throw up.)
Shari - Calling across the room, "Are you okay?"
Kristin - "I'm calling Dr. B."
So Kristin is the hero of the morning! She got the emergency line to wake Dr. B. She drove me to his office and waited with me. She even assisted him with the restitching surgery! (He didn't have a nurse and had to keep his hands sterile, so he had her handing him stitches, betadine, and such.) She said it was really interesting to watch, as she got to see him pulling my skin aside, cleaning underneath, etc. She even snapped a stealthy picture of me staring at the ceiling. Go Kristin!
Note that the clock on the wall says it's just about 7:00am. And the odd lump on my shorts is my shirt that I'd whipped off when Dr. B showed up.
So, all was done by a few minutes after this picture. We went back to get my car and Trish lovingly scolded me for popping my boob. Then back home to take care of kids and resume normal life. I don't even need painkillers today, but I'm taking it easy just in case. The biggest concern is infection because there was a gaping hole in my body, so I'm on antibiotics.
In retrospect, I'd noticed that the seam on my right breast was getting darker, like dark brown, over the past few days. I thought it was just part of the healing process for radiated skin. Then, this morning, it opened SO easily. Again, it was 10 minutes into my first workout. There was no tearing at all. It just spread apart. I guess I could describe it like a Ziploc bag opening, not a pants seam ripping. I truly believe that the scar was going to open no matter what. The radiated skin hadn't fused together after the surgery, and the little dark area was a hole. If I'd been loading groceries this weekend and lifted my arm to close the trunk, the split may have happened. Maybe starting at 1 inch, not 5, but it was going to happen nonetheless.
Of course this whole thing has changed my perspective on going back to exercising. I still believe that I NEED to keep my body in shape. However, radiated skin doesn't care that there's a triathlon on June 9 and another on August 4. Dr. B says "no" to both of them. A week ago, I would have argued, but the shock of seeing my popped boob has me 100% willing to follow doctor's orders. As bummed as I am, exercise will have to wait.
So, how was your morning?