I used to be a happy kid, living a carefree life with my loving parents. Once they divorced and both remarried, I felt like an outsider looking in, searching for a way to belong. We loved watching late-night shows like Saturday Night Live and Baywatch. Remember Pamela running down the beach in slow motion? That scene made his eyes sparkle. I couldn’t blame him; Pam’s a vision. I even got a bit obsessed with her, too, as she was the epitome of perfection. How was that possible? And why was I so far from perfect? That’s the mentality of a 17-year-old. I got the implants and, of course, all those things I thought would happen did not. Then one day, about five years ago, I felt really sick. It was the same sickness and exhaustion I had been feeling for at least a decade. I would sweat but didn’t know why. No sore throat, no cold, no flu. I hobbled home that day and went to bed mid-afternoon. When I tried to get up for some water, I couldn’t move. The right side of my body was completely paralyzed. I didn’t know what was happening, and I couldn’t reach out to anyone. I was embarrassed and I knew I needed help. But I never asked. My muscles began to deteriorate, and my heart palpitations led me to believe that I was on the verge of cardiac arrest. I can’t tell you how many times I would wake up with both of my arms completely dead. Sometimes, I would even wake up choking. I came to a place in my life where I literally knew I was dying, and after a time, made my peace with it. It was then that I came across an article that changed everything for me. It was a Facebook post written by Crystal Hefner, of all people. She wrote about breast implant illness and described all of the symptoms she felt and why she’d had her implants removed. You know when you pull the handle on a slot machine, and all the cherries suddenly line up? The alarms go off and the money cha-chings? That’s what I felt when I read that article. At that moment, I knew that I shared the same sickness. I had breast implant illness. I found a community of women who suffer from the same illness, and I am grateful for the doctor who saved my life. Since my surgery, I have gotten my life back. I still have to take it easy, but I am bouncing back in ways that I never imagined possible. Part of my life purpose now is to share this information with other women, so they don’t have to suffer the same way I did. If you’re thinking “wow, that’s nuts!” wait till you hear this crazy side effect of tattoos no one tells you about.
