Noun:  The small projection in which the mammary ducts of female mammals terminate and from which milk can be secreted.

  

Your average human has two of these.  Some people adorn them with jewellery, some people like to have them poke seductively through their clothing.  Some nipples are flat, some could have your eye out, some are deep pink, some are brown, and some are more sensitive than others.  Some are even hairy.  Some humans use them to feed and grow other humans.  The nipple is truly remarkable, although they do have a tendency of pointing southwards the older you get.

 

When you have surgery to remove a breast tumour, you may or may not get to keep your nipple.  If you have a DIEP flap reconstruction, you will certainly lose it.  The area where your nipple and areola were will be replaced by soft (and in my case, downy) tummy skin.  It takes a bit of getting used to seeing yourself like this.  I used to think I looked like a plastic doll with one eye gouged out.

 

Once the scarring around what was your areola has healed, your plastic surgeon may give you the option of making a new nipple for you.  This is usually done by making a triangle incision in the tummy skin that replaced your old nipple and areola, twisting it, stretching it and tying it off.  This can be done under local anesthetic if you are man enough.  (Don’t think I’m allowed to say stuff like that anymore?!?!)

 

My reconstructed breast was slightly smaller than my natural breast (I also had lots of problems with lymphedema which meant that a lot of the tissue had crystalized and my breast was lumpy and a bit sore)  So when it was time for me to get my new nipple, my plastic surgeon recommended that I have a “lift” on my good breast, and that he would give my potato breast a good prod about and replace some of the rocks with soft fat from my back.

 

On the morning of the surgery, my very dashing surgeon came in to see me to have a look at my baps.

 

In a very surreal scenario, he knelt on the floor so that his face was at eye level to my boobs and had a little prod about to decide his plan of attack.  After a short while he announced that I had an unusually long nipple on my “good” breast, which was a revelation to me.  I had no idea I had “special” nipples.  Instead of making me a shiny new nipple he suggested that I would get a more natural look if he chopped the good nipple in half and stuck it on the potato.

 

It is quite difficult to make a rational decision whilst a young and very dashing surgeon is cupping your boobs (I must point out in a wholly professional way – no funny business going on here, and Justin was in the room.  Admittedly looking a little perturbed at the good doctor kneeling betwixt my thighs).

 

Although tempted to just nod (and dribble a bit) and agree with what ever the surgeon said, I came to my senses and said “Hang on a minute.  I’ve only got one good one.  Are you going to break it?  Will I lose sensation??” A girl has to think about these things.  If you only had one eye would you poke about with the other one? 

 

Emphatically no!

 

But he explained that the “lift” of the good breast might affect the sensitivity of my good nipple anyway, so I thought, “Fuck it!” and agreed.

 

This surgery was a piece of cake compared to the whole mastectomy and DIEP flap reconstruction.  I was up and about straight away, no drains, catheter or IV fluids, and I went home the next day. 

 

I had a dressing over the cuts on the old breast and over the nipple area on the potato.  I was really curious to see what my new nipple looked like (and my butchered old one!!) but I had to wait a while.

 

After a week or so when the dressings came off, I looked in the mirror to find what looked like a dead fly where my nipple should be.  The graft had gone black and had stitches hanging out of it.  It was a bit of an anti-climax I can tell you.

 

However, I was very precious about my new nip and my pert new “lifted” boob. For the first time since my 20’s I could go braless!  (I never did, just felt naked without a bra).  But my butchered nipple and my dead fly were exactly where my pre childbirth nips used to be.

 

I did wonder about the dead fly and whether that was the finished article.  But I didn’t have to think about it for too long as one day in the shower, the dead fly gave up the ghost and fell off.  I was distraught as I watched it sail down the plughole!  But then, like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, there was my shiny new (very small, with no sensation, but at least the right colour) nipple. 

 

I still haven’t had the areola tattooed on.  I’m not sure if I can be bothered!  But it does feel good (more balanced and centred) to have 2 nipples again.