Eat Your Heart Out, Real Housewives of Orange County

I'm sure you've all been wondering what I have in common with Lynn, Tamra, Gretchen, Alexis and Vicky from "Real Housewives."  Noooo, I don't constantly announce how many karats my jewelry weighs in at, nor do I typically stab my friends in the back repeatedly or refer to myself and my friends, all in our mid 40's, as girls.  I have, however, had plastic surgery!

NOTE:  I'm going to link to some of these pictures in case people are reading at work or are sensitive about surgery-oriented stuff.  My sister faints at the mere mention of blood so I do feel your pain.  Also in a couple of these you can see the side of my ass.  I hope this doesn't change our relationship in any way, internet people.

In January of 2008, my sister Kerry went into the dressing room of Victoria's Secret with me.  (Shut up, sister porn people, you are all creepy).  As I tried on a bra, she looked down at the top of my stomach sticking up out of my underpants.  "Your extra skin isn't as bad as you think," she said.  Then I pulled my underpants down and she almost fainted.

Yes, losing 100 lbs is not pretty on the skin.  I also tended to carry my weight in my stomach.  This is a before picture.  So is this.  So yeah, yikes.  It was a problem because for about four months before my surgery, I couldn't wear non-elastic pants at all.  I have a flat, weird, pancake ass and with the extra skin, pants that fit in the butt didn't fit in the stomach and vice versa.  All that skin was also affecting my work outs.  It's really hard to touch your toes while stretching when you're basically wearing an inner tube around your waist.

So I had a surgery consultation with Dr. Peter Geldner and scheduled the surgery.  Then for about a month and a half I completely wigged out and became convinced I was going to die during plastic surgery, like my fellow Chicagoan Kanye West's mother, and forever be branded a vain, superficial bitch. To add to the stress, I was redoing my kitchen and the contractor was a pathological liar.  He promised he'd be finished before the date of my surgery, April 20, but he ended up finally walking out of my life sometime in August.  I was renting a small studio apartment in my building as my office and during remodeling I stayed in there.  Well, having my poor mom stay with me in one room for two weeks while I recovered really wasn't the most reassuring idea I'd ever heard, but that's how it all ended up.  Sorry again, Mom.

Here's me coming out of surgery.  So happy this picture was snapped!  I look like a million bucks.  They ended up removing a grand total of ELEVEN AND A HALF pounds of skin from around my waist.  That's way more than a typical tummy tuck.  I think about three or four times more, actually.

That's me in recovery.  I think I had already fainted once at this point.  All I wanted to do was pee so they'd release me and I could go home and sleep.  Yes, my friends, having 11.5 lbs of skin removed is considered outpatient surgery.

The recovery wasn't at all easy.  There were these little drains coming out of my sides and they had to be emptied every few hours.  My mom took such good care of me it was ridiculous.  I was working overnight at this point and couldn't take time off.  My mom would sit in the tiny little studio in silence all day while I slept and then put up with me clicking away at the computer all night while she tried to sleep.  She really deserves some kind of award, and she was with me for 17 days.

Here is a picture of me all wrapped up with the drains in full view.  I couldn't straighten up for over two weeks because I had over 200 stitches, inside and outside of my body.  It wasn't a pretty sight, not at all.

So the recovery was rough.  I was on a morphine pump for three days and then was on Vicodin for about three weeks.  I had some problems with the incision and with nerve damage in my stomach, and even now, almost two years later, I still don't have feeling in some parts of the area around my scar.  The scar is also pretty hideous.  It goes from hip to hip and my sister Kerry likes to tell people I was attacked by a shark.

The results were pretty amazing.  Here's a picture about six weeks after the surgery.  (I made parts of it a little blurry because I was uncomfortable posting THAT MUCH on the internet.  Sorry, surgery porn lookers).  (Oh, also note the splotchiness of my skin wasn't caused by surgery- I have Vitiligo, just like Michael Jackson.  I can also dance like him and I sleep in an oxygen chamber and have a pet monkey). My pants went down two sizes, even though weirdly enough I didn't lose any weight, which seems unfair.  How do you get 11.5 pounds cut off of you and not lose weight?!?!  One of the great mysteries of life.

So overall I am very happy I had the surgery, even though it sucked.  Before, I had to wear Spanx every single day.  I could literally pull the skin out seven or eight inches.  Now, I have a pretty normal-looking stomach and I can wear pants, dresses and whatever else I want without looking like one of those wrinkly dogs.  Plus I have such great pictures to share!  It was worth every penny just for that reason.

So yeah, I am just as plastic as the "Real Housewives," although so far have not been foreclosed on or cheated on a boyfriend or gotten a DUI.  However, with my new and improved abs, I'm confident all of that and more awaits me in the future.