In my last post, I shared the why behind my decision to have a tummy tuck and breast uplift.
This time, it's all about the how.
Finding the Right Surgeon
The first thing I had to do was research surgeons.
If you've ever looked into cosmetic surgery, you'll know it's a huge industry and, honestly, a bit of a minefield. There are endless options, all with glowing reviews, beautiful before-and-after photos, and promises of life-changing results.
I needed a way to narrow things down.
1. Location
I am incredibly squeamish.
The thought of being discharged shortly after surgery and sent home with a wound stretching from hip to hip, plus however many incisions would come with a breast uplift, absolutely terrified me.
During my research, I also discovered that because of my BMI, there was a reasonable chance I'd need surgical drains after the operation. That made one thing very clear:
I did not want to travel far.
Not just for the journey home, but for follow-up appointments, check-ups, or in the unlikely event something went wrong during recovery.
This immediately ruled out the increasingly popular option of going abroad for surgery. It also ruled out many London clinics. I won't drive in London, and the thought of navigating public transport after major surgery was a hard no.
Suddenly, my search became much more manageable.
2. Reputation
From the start, I knew I wanted the best surgeon I could find. Cost would be a consideration, of course, but it would never be the deciding factor.
This is my body and if I was going to do it, I wanted to do it properly.
The problem was that almost every surgeon I looked at had fantastic reviews and amazing results. It felt like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
I'd spoken to people who'd had cosmetic procedures themselves. Some experiences were brilliant, others not so much. But again, most recommendations took me outside the area I'd decided to stick to.
Then I had a lightbulb moment.
My wonderful mother-in-law works at Nuffield Health in Guildford, which offers cosmetic surgery.
Knowing the hospital's excellent reputation, I asked her a simple question:
"Who is the best cosmetic surgeon there?"
She came back with a name and even better, because she's a member of staff, I could receive a small family discount. Result. 😂
I did my homework and liked everything I saw. I won't name him just yet as I haven't asked his permission, so for now we'll call him Mr T.
His portfolio was impressive, his credentials were excellent, and he clearly knew exactly what he was doing.
Taking the First Real Step
Up until this point, none of it had felt real.
I think part of me expected someone to tell me I wasn't eligible, so I'd deliberately avoided getting too invested.
Eventually, I emailed Mr T's PA outlining my intentions and all the relevant details that I felt could affect my eligibility:
- Arthritis
- Psoriasis - An annoying psoriasis patch beneath my stomach fold that won't heal because... well... the fold is still there
- Current medications
- My BMI
I also asked for indicative pricing because at that point, I genuinely had no idea what these procedures cost.
The only thing I did know was that breast uplifts are often more expensive than implants, which surprised me when I first learned it.
What I did know was this:
If surgery was possible, I was going to find a way to make it happen. Even if I had to remortgage the house.
(Only slightly joking.)
The Virtual Consultation
Before committing to a paid face-to-face consultation, I arranged a free virtual appointment.
I had to submit front and side profile photographs beforehand while wearing fitted clothing.
The consultation itself was more focused on the procedures than on me personally.
Mr T explained the surgical options:
- Have both procedures separately.
- Have them together during one operation.
The combined procedure was cheaper overall because it only required one anaesthetic, but theatre slots were harder to secure because it takes most of the day.
I liked him immediately. He was kind, informative, direct, and refreshingly honest.
No sales pitch, no fluff, just facts.
When I raised concerns about my BMI, he was completely unfazed. He explained that while BMI is a consideration, it wasn't something that concerned him significantly and that, realistically, my measurements would change substantially after surgery anyway.
I came away feeling reassured.
The Quote
Then the quote arrived. My jaw hit the floor.
The total cost for both procedures was just under £20,000.
I genuinely hadn't expected a figure anywhere near that.
I've debated whether to share the exact amount because talking openly about money feels very un-British. But I promised I'd be transparent throughout this journey and, let's be honest, it's one of the questions everyone wants answered.
Since then, I've obtained several other quotes and discovered that the figure was actually pretty competitive.
Still...
Twenty thousand pounds!!!
I briefly thought that was the end of the road as I simply didn't have that kind of money sitting around.
Thankfully, my husband was much more optimistic than I was. After some serious conversations and advice from the wisest woman I know (my mum), we explored finance options and eventually secured a loan.
Looking back, this was probably the hardest part of the entire process. Spending that amount of money on something that's solely for me felt selfish, indulgent, shallow even.
I still struggle with those feelings as I am writing this. I know how fortunate I am to even have this option. But eventually I realised something important:
Maybe it's okay to put myself first this one time.
The Face-to-Face Consultation
This was the appointment that made everything feel real and I was terrified.
Not of the examination itself, but of someone telling me I couldn't have the surgery after all.
I brought my husband along to help me absorb all the information. In hindsight that may have been a mistake...
The consultation began with an examination of my abdomen.
After changing into a glamorous ensemble of "removing my trousers and holding my top up while trying not to die of embarrassment," Mr T assessed my stomach and showed me exactly where the incisions would go.
Using a mirror, he pinched, pulled and moved skin around to demonstrate the likely outcome.
He explained that the surgery would not only remove excess skin and fat but would also repair my separated abdominal muscles.
Something else I hadn't considered was my posture.
Apparently, I have a pronounced arch in my lower back, which naturally pushes my abdomen forward. So if I want that truly flat-stomach look afterwards, I'll need to work on correcting that myself.
Who knew?
The Awkward Part 🙈
Next came the breast examination. This is where bringing my husband became questionable.
Picture the scene:
I'm standing topless in front of a mirror, Mr T is lifting and assessing my breasts, my husband is sitting silently in the corner of the room...
Nobody knows where to look, nobody knows what to say.
To this day, weeks later, we still haven't discussed it. I think we've mutually agreed to pretend it never happened.
The breast uplift itself sounds pretty dramatic.
There are a lot of incisions involved and, yes, your nipples get moved. I know. I nearly fainted too.
Thankfully, he was pleased with the quality of the skin around my chest, which should make the reconstruction more straightforward.
Small wins.
The Scary Conversation
Once the examination was complete, we moved onto risks and there are lots of them.
They have to discuss every possible complication, no matter how unlikely but by the end of that conversation I was mentally planning my own funeral.
The biggest thing under my control was smoking. Mr T was crystal clear:
No nicotine.
Not cigarettes.
Not vapes.
Not patches.
Nothing.
Nicotine significantly impairs healing and increases the risk of wound complications apparently and he needed me nicotine free for 3 weeks before and 3 weeks after surgery.
So I quit.
At the time of writing, it's been almost two months.
I've had the occasional lapse while having a drink, but I've remained nicotine-free within the required timeframe and honestly, I'm pretty proud of that.
One Final Hurdle
Just as I thought everything was settled, Mr T dropped one final bombshell.
He explained that although he was happy to proceed, the hospital still needed to approve me because of the increased risks associated with my BMI.
I was stunned.
Especially as I'd already paid £200 for the consultation. If they'd turned around and said no at that point, I'd have been furious. So began a very stressful wait.
Eventually—and only after I chased them—I received confirmation that I was approved and they had a surgery slot available.
4th July 2026.
I accepted immediately.
Getting Ready
Since then, things have moved quickly.
I've had:
✅ A full pre-operative assessment
✅ Blood tests
✅ ECG
✅ Swabs
✅ A million medical questions
Next week I'll meet with Mr T again to be measured for my compression garment and post-surgery bra.
Honestly, I never thought I'd be excited about being fitted for medical underwear, but here we are.
✨ Next Stop: Surgery Day
So that's the "how."
The researching, the worrying, the finances, the consultations, the awkward topless moments and the approval.
Now all that's left is the surgery itself. My next update will be the big one.
Wish me luck...
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