'My boob exploded!'
Saturday 18th April 2009
There are occasions when opposites work well. Like comedians Little and Large, and hot chocolate sauce on ice cream. But mismatched boobs? Staring long and hard at my naked breasts, I tried to think of a reason why my right boob was bigger than my left one. I stared at my left breast. Size 34C. So far, so normal. Then my right. Huge, red and swollen like a baboon's backside. This wasn't the first time I'd had issues with my breasts. Back in 2001, they'd made my life a misery. After two pregnancies and breastfeeding, I'd been left with breasts so saggy, I could almost tuck them into my waistband. And although I was proud of Madison, now 11, and Bailey, 9, I wasn't up for boobs so flat you could roll them up like a rug. So, aged 28, I'd taken the plunge and gone for a boob job.
I worried about having something artificial in my body. But… 'The implants have a lifetime guarantee,' my surgeon explained. 'You could stand on them, even subject them to a high-speed collision, and they wouldn't break.' Wow, I thought. My boobs would be invincible. The £3,300 fee had seemed worth it, and I was chuffed with my new 34C boobs. Sadly, not everyone was pleased with the new me. My husband, Barry, had become jealous, and we'd split up two years later. Now, five years on, in May 2008, I was happily living with Ross Burnett, 30, an HGV driver, and we had a son, Stanley. Everything was perfect. Except for my giant boob. The next day, I saw my GP. 'It's possible your implant has leaked,' she said. 'I'm going to refer you to a specialist at the hospital.' I was sent home with antibiotics, but they didn't help. In fact, I felt worse and worse, and my boob was starting to look square. With lots of paracetamol, I tried to carry on, but I could only sleep on my back, and in the car, I had to hold the seatbelt away from my chest. By the time I saw the specialist, I was in agony. 'It does looks like your implant has leaked,' the doctor said when I went back. 'I'm sending you for an MRI scan.' The results were definite. 'Your implant has leaked,' the specialist confirmed.
My first thought? Thank God it wasn't cancer. And my second? Great. My boob had oozed away. 'You can have the implant removed on the NHS,' she said. 'But if you want it replaced, you'll have to go private. It'll cost around £5,500.' Maybe you'd think after all I'd been through, I'd just want to be rid of silicone. But… 'I can't go back to the person I was,' I told Ross that night. So Ross took out a loan and, on 4 July, I went back to the hospital to have the implant replaced. When I came round, my right boob was still swollen, but at least it was roughly the same size and shape as my left. It was a huge relief to have my boobs back, but then anger set in. I'd been told my boobs would withstand a high-speed collision. Instead they just ended up looking like an air bag. I asked the hospital to send the implant back to the manufacturers, so they could investigate, and finally, in November, I got a response. They confirmed that there was a fold in the implant which had rubbed and led to the leak. But despite admitting this, they refused to cover the cost of my treatment, claiming it was just 'one of those things'. One of those things! I couldn't believe it. I've since read about one poor woman with a broken silicone gel implant in her calf who was left coughing up silicone. And I thought my burst implant left a nasty taste in the mouth. Maybe things could have been worse after all!