Despite being fairly savvy with computers and social media,
I didn't realize that Instagram was a shared social network site; I thought it
was strictly a camera app when I started using it a few years ago.
Part of my recovery surgeries for breast cancer have been procedures called “fat grafting.” Basically, they liposuction small amounts of
fat (when I say small, I mean small, I tried and tried for large scale body
sculpting, but no dice) from your thighs or abdomen and inject the fat cells
into the surgical site, where they grow and fill in the scars and depression
areas. After having it done several times in my tummy, I decided to try the
thighs to see if the discomfort was less. It was not, and I was sutured, heavily
bruised and black and blue all down the back of each leg.
I wanted to see what things looked like up close, so while on a high dose of Percocet and wearing my “special undies,” I awkwardly held the
phone behind me and took a couple photos of my back side and legs. (please don’t stop me here and ask why I didn't just
use the full length mirror to see, because that would have been too easy) The photos
were perfectly hideous and blurred but I kept them for reference. Reference to what? I don't know, probably reference to get myself to the gym.
Luckily, I realized a few months later that everyone on the interwebs could
see my cellulite, granny panties, and bruises. Thank God I had no followers…
Laters.
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| "Special Undies" |
