The Big Chop Series

Single panel depicting a drawing of a doctor pointing at my chest as he says, “Perfect, you’ve got a nice wide chest! You’re going to look great, we’ve just got to get these pesky things off!“

 

 

The following is the first 10 comics in a short series that explores my experiences surrounding top surgery. You can find additional comics from this series on my instagram, @apb.graphics.

This series was the inspiration for my upcoming graphic memoir, Unbinding, which is slated to be published with Oni Press in 2027.

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “naturally, part of my top surgery consultation involved my doctor taking a look at my chest.” Below is a drawing of me offering a strained smile as a speech bubble from off panel says, “ just undress from the waist up, and the doctor will be in shortly!“ I reply, “got it…“ Panel 2 contains the text, “as a butch lesbian, it goes without saying that an adult man seeing my boobs was just a little weird for me.“ Next to the text is an image of me wearing an oversized paper shirt next to a caption that reads “light pink paper shirt with comically large sleeves.“ Panel 3 depicts a drawing of a doctor pointing at my chest as he says, “Perfect, you’ve got a nice wide chest! You’re going to look great, we’ve just got to get these pesky things off!“ Panel 4 contains the text, “I could tell that he had a lot of experience helping his patients feel comfortable in a moment that’s awkward at best.“ Above the text is a drawing of me looking down at the doctor as I say, “I used to be a swimmer!“ A speech bubble coming from off panel says, “no kidding?“

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text “I got insanely lucky when scheduling my top surgery“ over an image of me on a laptop, noticing my phone buzzing. The text “editing images of sandwiches“ is next to an arrow pointing to the laptop. Panel 2 contains the text “I had my consult in October, and was finally approved by insurance in December. We were scheduling for late May, when I got THE email:“ Below the text is an image of me looking at my phone with giant eyes as a message comes from the phone saying “we have an unexpected opening December 29!“ The text “only a few weeks away!” is next to an arrow pointing to the phone. Panel 3 contains a drawing of me, crying and hugging my partner, as I say “I won’t have to spend another summer in a binder!!“ Panel 4 contains the text “as one of my coworkers put it:“ over an image of a messaging chat where they reply, “it’s a Christmas miracle!!” to a message telling them about the surgery date.

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “The morning of my top surgery, my nerves woke me before my alarm did” over a drawing of me lying awake in bed with a thought bubble containing the text, “What if something goes wrong? What if I look wrong? What if…” Panel 2 contains the text, “Messages from well-meaning family didn’t help” over a drawing of me sitting up as I read a message on my phone that says, “It’s not too late to postpone! You don’t have to go through with it…” Panel 3 reads, “A couple of days prior, I put some birdseed outside. I hadn’t seen any birds yet, but this morning, one flitted past my window” over a drawing of me looking up from my phone to see a bird flying past the window. Panel 4 shows the outside of my building, where multiple bluejays fly around a stick of birdseed. Text at the top of the panel reads, “I took it as a good sign.”

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “before top surgery, I never told my primary care doctors about my pronouns or preference to go by ‘Al.’ (They also never asked).” Below the text is an image of me wearing a mask and reading a book in a waiting room as a nurse approaches me and says “Al? I can take you back to prep for surgery now.“ Panel 2 contains the text “I’m not on T, and hadn’t had any gender affirming surgeries. It was uncomfortable, but it didn’t feel worth the trouble or potential hostility.“ Beneath the text is an image of me following the nurse as she says “We’ll be just down here on the right.” Panel 3 contains a drawing of the nurse asking me, “Okay, you go by ‘Al,’ right? And then what are your pronouns?“ I reply, “Yep, I use they/them.“ Beneath the drawing is the text, “she jotted it down at the top of every single page of my patient info packet.“ Panel 4 contains the text, “I appreciated it more than she probably knew“ over an image of me looking grateful, and saying “thank you for asking.“ A speech bubble coming from off panel says “of course! And what medication‘s…”

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “top surgery: my experience with drains!“ Below is a drawing of drains, and a speech bubble coming from a panel that asks, “did they hurt?“ I reply, “kinda?“ below it. Panel 2 contains the text, “I had double incision top surgery and had two drains in for seven days after. The drain on my right side was uncomfortable when I moved certain ways, but I hardly felt the left one at all!“ Next to the text is a drawing of me, cursing as I reach for a cup and my chest hurts. A speech bubble coming from off panel contains an image of Lo’s face saying, “stop moving!!!“ Panel 3 contains the text, “they also got more sore + sensitive the closer I got to my one week post-op appointment. Days 6+7 were by far the most uncomfortable.” Beneath the text is a drawing of me looking grumpy as my chest hurts. Text that reads “hasn’t been able to shower for seven days“ is next to arrows that point to me. Panel 4 contains the text, “getting them removed wasn’t too bad, and felt more weird than painful. I was mostly just relieved to finally have them out!“ A drawing of two gloved hands holding a drain is next to a speech bubble with the text, “so this is what the whole thing looks like!“ another speech bubble coming from off panel says, “haha, eewww.”

Comic made of four square panels. Panel one contains the text, “top surgery: how to empty drains!*” and “*contains illustrated blood + goop!” over a drawing of drains. Panel 2 contains a drawing of my drains safety pinned to the front of my post-op binder. Text below it reads “I got double incision top surgery (with nipple grafts), and had two drains in until seven days post-op.” Panel 3 contains the text “each drain entered my chest about an inch under the ends of my incisions, but I couldn’t see the entry points until my doctor removed my bandages for the first time at one week post-op.“ Next to the text is a drawing that depicts my chest from the side, where a drain tube goes under my bandage and into my body about an inch below my incisions. Panel 4 contains the text, “the first step of emptying my drains was to ‘milk’ the tubes by pinching them, and dragging any liquid inside down into the bulbs” and “ hold the tube steady with your other hand so it doesn’t tug – ouch!“ next to a drawing of two hands performing the described action.

Comic made of 4 square panels that acts as a continuation of part 1 of “how to empty drains!” Panel 1 contains the text “next, you gently squeeze the drain while opening the valve on top. Then, slowly release the pressure and let the drain fill with air.“ Next to the text is an illustration of two hands performing the described action. Panel 2 contains the text, “pour the fluid inside into the capsule provided by your doctor (mine looked like a big RX bottle with measurements in ML on the side).“ Below the text is a drawing of a capsule marked with measurements in ML with a small amount of blood in it sitting on a level surface. Panel 3 contains the text, “record the amount of fluid on the chart provided by your doctor, then dispose of the fluid in the toilet!“ over an image of a drain output sheet with a pen that is writing measurements under columns drain 1 and drain 2. Panel 4 contains the text “finally, squeeze the bulb of the drain before closing the valve! (And repeat on the other drain)“ and “(Squeezing the drains before capping them creates a vacuum that draws the excess fluid out of your body).“

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “it’s been two months since my top surgery, and as weird as it sounds, sometimes I already forget I ever had breasts. To be fair, I tried to forget about them pre-op, too.“ Beneath the text is an image of me bundled up under multiple jackets with a strained smile. An arrow points to me with the text, “wearing 4 layers + a binder.” Panel 2 contains the text, “prior to surgery, I felt confident that I was making the right decision… But I was still nervous about adjusting to such a big change.” Beneath the text is an image of me looking a little worried. Next to me are thought bubbles that contain the text “what if I don’t recognize myself?“ and “what if my nipples fall off?“ speech bubbles coming from off panel say, “What if something goes wrong? Then you’re stuck like that!“ and “What if you regret it later?“ Panel 3 contains the text, “but when I looked at my chest one week post-op (at its roughest), all I could think was that it just felt so… right.“ Beneath the text is an image of me smiling as I look in the mirror and see my new chest. Next to me a speech bubble coming from off panel says “what do you think?“ Panel 4 contains the text, “ it reminded me of the first time I cut my hair short. Until that moment, I didn’t know I could look like that… But it simultaneously felt impossible to see myself any other way.” Next to the text is a drawing of me looking in the mirror at my first short haircut and smiling. A speech bubble coming from off panel says “what do you think?“

Comic made of four square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “Before I got top surgery, I had a very specific formula that a T-shirt had to fit into if I would wear it.“ Beneath the text is a drawing of multiple pictures of me from varying years. In every picture, I am wearing a black T-shirt with a white graphic on the front. Panel 2 contains the text, “1: It had to be black. 2: Ideally, it was made of heavyweight cotton (so it doesn’t cling to the body and hangs in a boxy shape)” and “collar can’t be too wide, either.” Below the text is a drawing of a plain black T-shirt. Panel 3 contains the text “3: It had to have some kind of graphic on it. Large and high contrast over the chest of the shirt was best.” Below the text is a drawing of a black T-shirt that has “I hate having tits, can you tell?“ in white text on the center of it. The word “perfect!“ is next to it. Panel 4 contains the text, “Post-op, I’ve started wearing shirts that I’ve saved for years with the hope that I could feel comfortable in them someday – and I finally do!“ Below the text is a drawing of me wearing a tank top and pointing to my chest, as I say, “I can wear tank tops now! TANK TOPS!!“

Comic made of 4 square panels. Panel 1 contains the text, “Current events have me thinking about how my decision to get top surgery was not one I made lightly” over a drawing of me looking at my phone. Sound bubbles coming from the phone contain the text “CPAC call for the ‘eradication’ of trans people met with cheers” and “new bill targets gender-affirming care for adults.” Panel 2 depicts a drawing of me hugging my partner, while sitting on a bed as I say, “it doesn’t matter what I am wearing, I just hate the way I look. I just don’t feel like me.” Below is the text, “after years of feeling increasingly uncomfortable in my body, I finally caved and bought a binder.” Panel three contains the text “it helped, a lot. This presented a host of new issues, is binding is in a sustainable long-term solution. It’s not safe to exercise in a binder, and wearing them long-term can cause serious health issues” over a drawing of me looking tired, and thinking of myself wearing a sports bra next to a climbing wall. A speech bubble coming from off panel says “do you want to go climbing?“ I reply, “nah, I’m okay.” Panel 4 contains the text “like many others, top surgery was my only viable option. Access to gender affirming care saves lives.“ Below is a drawing of me on the phone as I say, “mom, every day I exist in a state of discomfort. I can choose between feeling disconnected from my body, or squeezing into a binder, where I’m insanely sweaty, and can’t breathe. I can’t keep doing this.“