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Teet Yeet, Teetus Deletus: Top Surgery

Teet Yeet, Teetus Deletus: Top Surgery

top-surgery

This May, I was able to secure a date for something I’ve been dreaming about my whole life: top surgery. For those of you who may not know, top surgery refers to either the masculinization or feminization of one’s chest. For me, it meant getting rid of my size 36DDD breasts and finally looking like myself. 

I started going through puberty super young, an already traumatizing experience made worse by being trans without knowing it. By sixth grade, I was in training bras; by high school, the only place I could buy bras was Lane Bryant. So, while my friends were buying sexy undergarments from Victoria’s Secret, I was spending close to $60 a bra which came in exactly three colors; black, white, and nude. Shopping for bathing suits was just as, if not more humiliating, because I knew people would be able to see my chest. 

Much later, when I came out as trans, I knew top surgery was high on my list of priorities. If I ever had any hope in passing (which is not a requirement for being trans), I knew the boobs had got to go. I had asked my gender therapist early in my transition if it would be possible to have surgery before starting hormones. At the time, I was still questioning my identity, but I knew one of my biggest sources of dysphoria came from having some real big knockers. She informed me that most states require patients to be living as their preferred gender and be on hormone therapy for at least a year prior to surgery. This is because “surgery is permanent.”

The Beginning of Transition

So, I started HRT and a painful year of senseless binding. Binding refers to using compression materials to help flatten one’s chest to appear more masculine. For me, the discomfort of a decent binder which didn’t truly mask the fact that I had breasts wasn’t worth it. So sometimes I bound; sometimes I wore sports bras, and sometimes I just went out in a big hoodie with nothing under it, ‘cuz fuck it. 

In December of last year, through extensive, online research and numerous calls to my insurance, I found Dr. Micheal Bateman. I went in for my first consultation and was told that it would probably be a while before we were able to schedule anything since, one, COVID had restricted hospitals from doing non-emergency surgeries, and two, it generally took insurance companies a few months to approve these things, probably longer with the pandemic. In January, Dr. Bateman’s office gave me a call saying they could schedule me as soon as April. I had been expecting to have to wait until at least next year, so naturally, I was elated. 

Over the next few months, I had several pre-op appointments during which Dr. Bateman and his staff were friendly, affirming, and informative. They eased my worries about this being my first major surgery and informed me of potential risks and complications without scaring me away. The day of the surgery could not have gone smoother. My mom and I, who are both prone to anxiety, were put totally at ease by the staff at Rose Medical Center in Aurora. And after three hours (which to me felt more like three minutes), I was boob-free!

Post-Op

The recovery process differs for everyone; many times, the people most comfortable posting post-op pics and recounting how painless it was are the ones who’ve had an easy go at it. For me it’s been a mixed bag. Physically, I don’t feel like I’ve just been through major surgery. I’ve managed to get by without using some of the harsher pain medications prescribed to me. 

This is what’s worked for me. I’ve noticed a lot of toxic masculinity from the transmasculine community when it comes to bragging about how easily they breezed through recovery. If you need pain meds, take them. If you need to sleep for a week, do it. And if you’ve gotten free nipple grafts (similar to skin grafts), there will be several times where you fear your entire nipple is just going to fall off, but that’s just how they’re healing.

As far as how I look, the difference is startling. I’m not ready to go topless, or post any shirtless pics, as I’m still covered in gauze and bandages. But for the first time in close to 20 years, my chest is finally flat, and for that, I’m forever thankful. 

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