5 Things I Wish I Had Known Before Major Cosmetic Surgery

I’m going to level with you: Things are going to be pretty fucking gross for a little bit.

The boxer Mike Tyson once said, “Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”
Now, I’m not generally one to recommend taking advice from Mike Tyson, but this is something that definitely rings true.
There are parts of life that we can try and prepare for — doing research, asking others who’ve experienced the same thing, but you’ll never truly know what it’s like until you’ve lived through them.
On February 4th, I underwent a procedure to remove excess skin from my stomach, sides, and lower back. After eight hours of surgery (and a hell of a lot of anesthesia), a 5-foot, 43-pound strip of skin was removed from my midsection. It hurt.
On May 17th, I’ll be undergoing [underwent] the next round of surgery: Removing excess skin from my chest and upper back.
There were a lot of things I never could’ve been prepared for, going into the first surgery.

So, if you’re OK with getting maybe a little too personal, here are a few things I wish I would’ve known before I went in for surgery:

1. You’re basically going to be useless for the first few days.

I can’t stress enough just how much you’re going to fade in and out of consciousness for the first day or two.
Not only are you in pain and heavily medicated, your body is basically in shock from the trauma it just went through.
Regardless of how long you’re told your procedure will take, expect to be basically useless for the first 24 hours or so.
I went in for surgery at 8 AM and I was told I’d be in surgery for around six hours. So, anticipating I'd be up around early afternoon, I promised people following the procedure on social media that I’d post something as soon as I was awake.
I woke up at 7 PM, and all I managed to do was record an awkward video of myself heavily-medicated and singing Outkast’s “Hey Ya!”

2. Sleep will happen whenever it happens.

Sleep is an elusive thing for the first couple of days.
With all surgery — but especially with cosmetic surgery — your body is so tight and uncomfortable that you’re forced to sleep in mostly unnatural positions. The pain isn’t as bad as everyone thinks, but there’s a dull ache that resonates through your whole body and makes it nearly impossible to actually relax.
Most of the sleep I got for the 48 hours post-op happened at random times through the day: I’d slowly slip into unconsciousness for 30 minutes at a time without realizing it. That is, until a random cough would make me feel like my insides were coming out and wake me up.
Immediately following surgery, day and night have no control over you.
Only prescription painkillers can put you to rest, and you’re left with little choice but to lie back and accept its oxycodone-y embrace.

3. The people in your support system are saints.

Seriously.
Make sure the people who are going to be there for you the first couple of days are prepared to see some messed-up things. My parents were there for me around the clock for the first two weeks, and I’m honestly surprised they don't have any lasting psychological damage.
By the end of their time taking care of me, they heard me say, “I need help draining my blood tubes” way more times than any human being should ever have to hear it.
Let’s not even begin to talk about how awkward it was getting their help to use the bathroom.
Speaking of which..

4. Using the bathroom is going to suck for a while.

Yeah. It’s time to talk about pooping.
Apparently, because of painkillers and changes in diet post-surgery, it’s nearly impossible to use the bathroom for a week or so. Couple that with an inability to comfortably sit anywhere (let alone on a 2-foot-tall hotel toilet) and you’ve got yourself a really fun and cozy situation.
Here’s a really fun story:
Because of the procedure I underwent, the skin on my stomach was pulled down and the skin on my thighs and pelvis were pulled up where they met at my waistline. Once I was finally able to stand up to pee on my own, I kept noticing something strange: Even though I aimed properly, I kept hitting the top of the toilet seat, above the bowl. Then I realized — the skin on my pelvis was so tight, it made my ding-dong point higher up than it normally was.
The surgery literally re-angled my dangle.
I urinated in an arch for a week. It looked like one of those Greek statues of the peeing babies.

Image: The Highwayman.

5. Your relationship with your body is going to be complicated.

I’m going to level with you: Things are going to be pretty fucking gross for a little bit.
There are scars, blood drainage, swelling, and bruising — it’s essentially going to look like makeup from The Walking Dead following the procedure. Not only that, but you’ll probably lack the necessary energy to groom yourself like you normally do, and you might not be allowed to shower for an extended period of time.
You may smell... not good.
It may take a toll on your self-esteem, but I want you to keep something in mind:
You are in the midst of a process that you underwent to improve your life in some way.
With any sort of positive change comes obstacles that must be surpassed; even with advances in medicine, this situation is no different. Cosmetic surgery is a tough experience to heal from, and the ramifications of waking up with a different face or body can be shocking.
Know that these things are temporary, scary as they may seem.
Remember that, in your center, you are still you.