It's August 26th, 2011. Tomorrow it will be 16 months since I got my double mastectomy. A short month before that, I had my biopsy and genetics test which changed my life. I was ready to face the world without breasts. I was ready to say "who needs boobs?" to the world and just buy some patterned blouses and move on with life. I was ready to say F-you to cancer and to the whole universe who wanted me to have breasts.
I thought it would be easy. I thought it would be empowering. I thought I would feel on top of the world.
Sometimes it's just not what you thought it would be...
I have been considering breast reconstruction. I met with a plastic surgeon and I think I am going to do it. Why? because I want to feel sexy again. I want to be able to try on clothes and have them fit and not look like a pear anymore. I want to be able to know for sure that the person looking at me isn't noticing my flat chest. I want to feel less insecure about my body. I want to FEEL.
And what is going through my head? I feel like I have failed. i had such high hopes for my booblessness. I had goals and aspirations to be inspiring and a real example of how other women who have had to make tough mastectomy and reconstruction decisions should behave. or at least how they *could* behave. I wanted to show my photos on breastfree.org and help other women through this process. I wanted to be seen as a non-reconstruction success story.
Sometimes it's just not what you thought it would be...
I have realized that it's not my responsibility to be an example to the world, though. I'm not a public figure. I'm not a celebrity. I'm a teacher, a friend, a wife, a mother, and I happened to kick cancer's ass. Those are the badges I want to wear. I am a survivor. And i want to feel good about myself again.
Please read Real Women by Hanne Blank. You can google it, or go to www.hanneblank.com/blog/2011/06/23/real-women
Friday, August 26, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Paying it forward...sorta
When you have cancer, breast or otherwise, you join a club you never wanted to join. Despite people's best efforts, you really can't truly understand what someone with cancer goes through unless you go through it yourself. That's not to say that people can't be supportive and understanding and empathetic...but it's so different when YOU have it growing in your body, and all you want to do is have a surgeon cut it out or your oncologist shrink it into oblivion.
When I found out about my breast cancer, I sought the counsel of others who had been through it. I had some amazing online friends from a message board I visit reach out to me and tell me their stories of fear and survival. They gave me websites and book titles to look up, pictures to view, and quotes to keep me sane. I called them during my diagnostic phase, after the surgery, and in my long emotional recovery I leaned on them. When I made it to the "other side" of my recovery, done with the surgery and treatments and feeling the pat on my head from the surgeons and oncologists with the reminder to "check in once a year or so"--I was free to get on with my life. Of course it wouldn't be the same, but I had this monumental experience behind me.
That is until someone you know approaches you and says "I've been wanting to talk to you...I just found out I have breast cancer." The eyes that look at you were your own--filled with fear and anxiety, hope and yearning. You give her a hug, tell her "I'm so sorry" and you sit and chat for a while. The acronyms, hints, tips, book titles, quotes, and websites that are old hat to you now come rolling off your tongue. You exchange email addresses and phone numbers and offer the support that can only come from a time-tested and world-weary member of the "club."
Over the months you offer support and love, but it's so so different. When it's you that is going through it, it feels like you are doing something. You have some semblance of control because you are wielding the signature on the bottom of the consent forms and it's ultimately your decision what you do and when. And you somewhat know what is going on inside your head. When it's a loved one going through it you feel more helpless. You can't make her believe that everything will be okay. You can't make her go to a cancer support group or read the great blog you found online. You have to let her take control and go through it herself, make her own decisions and just pray that she can come out the other side a stronger woman.
And in the back of my mind I wonder...a year from now when she is done with her treatments and surgeries...will she be sitting at her desk and look up into the fear-filled eyes of another woman who says "I've been wanting to talk to you..."
When I found out about my breast cancer, I sought the counsel of others who had been through it. I had some amazing online friends from a message board I visit reach out to me and tell me their stories of fear and survival. They gave me websites and book titles to look up, pictures to view, and quotes to keep me sane. I called them during my diagnostic phase, after the surgery, and in my long emotional recovery I leaned on them. When I made it to the "other side" of my recovery, done with the surgery and treatments and feeling the pat on my head from the surgeons and oncologists with the reminder to "check in once a year or so"--I was free to get on with my life. Of course it wouldn't be the same, but I had this monumental experience behind me.
That is until someone you know approaches you and says "I've been wanting to talk to you...I just found out I have breast cancer." The eyes that look at you were your own--filled with fear and anxiety, hope and yearning. You give her a hug, tell her "I'm so sorry" and you sit and chat for a while. The acronyms, hints, tips, book titles, quotes, and websites that are old hat to you now come rolling off your tongue. You exchange email addresses and phone numbers and offer the support that can only come from a time-tested and world-weary member of the "club."
Over the months you offer support and love, but it's so so different. When it's you that is going through it, it feels like you are doing something. You have some semblance of control because you are wielding the signature on the bottom of the consent forms and it's ultimately your decision what you do and when. And you somewhat know what is going on inside your head. When it's a loved one going through it you feel more helpless. You can't make her believe that everything will be okay. You can't make her go to a cancer support group or read the great blog you found online. You have to let her take control and go through it herself, make her own decisions and just pray that she can come out the other side a stronger woman.
And in the back of my mind I wonder...a year from now when she is done with her treatments and surgeries...will she be sitting at her desk and look up into the fear-filled eyes of another woman who says "I've been wanting to talk to you..."
Monday, March 28, 2011
Boob-Voyage!
When I found out about having breast cancer, I got pissed as well as sad. I was mad that now I'd have to tell people close to me I had cancer and was going to have this awful surgery--then I'd get the sad looks and the "oh, I'm sorry!" I didn't want to be sorry and sad, I wanted to be positive and creative.
I started to do a lot of research about the various things that would make my recovery from surgery easier. As I was perusing the various websites, looking at the pillows and creams and nightgowns, etc that other mastectomy patients had recommended, I mused that people who get a cancer diagnosis should be thrown a Cancer Shower...much like pregnant folks get a baby shower. Why shouldn't we be showered with gifts and pampering that would make our lives during treatment easier? When I mentioned it jokingly to my co-workers, they jumped on it. Why not they said!!!
Ok, so I then started to feel pretty tacky thinking I was going to throw myself a shower and expect gifts from folks. That just wouldn't do. So I decided to make it a fundraiser for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, which another of my co-workers does every year. The evites went out requesting no gifts, but for people to bring a joke and some money to donate to the Walk.
When you get some creative ladies together and give them something called a "Boob-Voyage" to plan--boy do they ever plan!!! Nina was going to make the boob cake, Mireya was going to plan a surprise, and about 35 people said YES of course they would come!!
Shopping for the party was so much fun--our decorations? Why bras from the dollar store, of course! And purchased boob balloons from some kind of bachelor party store online, indeed. Boob-shaped pasta? Certainly!
Here's Emily with one of the boob-shaped balloons. Don't worry, the kids weren't around for the adult-themed party.
My co-workers Nina and Mireya....they were AWESOME!!!!!!!! Gotta have good friends to support you through this process...
That tree is an angel-tree. On those little pieces of paper are little services or tasks that Mireya and Nina wrote down that they thought might help me while I was recovering. Things like "come over to wash Sarah's hair" or "take Sarah's kids for a playdate" or "make a meal". Wow, that was amazing. People would take a paper just like they take an ornament for a needy family off an angel-tree at church. I gotta tell you--it was the washing my hair that was the BEST!!! I couldn't reach over my head to do that and man was I stinky and greasy after 4 days in the hospital!!
I started to do a lot of research about the various things that would make my recovery from surgery easier. As I was perusing the various websites, looking at the pillows and creams and nightgowns, etc that other mastectomy patients had recommended, I mused that people who get a cancer diagnosis should be thrown a Cancer Shower...much like pregnant folks get a baby shower. Why shouldn't we be showered with gifts and pampering that would make our lives during treatment easier? When I mentioned it jokingly to my co-workers, they jumped on it. Why not they said!!!
Ok, so I then started to feel pretty tacky thinking I was going to throw myself a shower and expect gifts from folks. That just wouldn't do. So I decided to make it a fundraiser for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, which another of my co-workers does every year. The evites went out requesting no gifts, but for people to bring a joke and some money to donate to the Walk.
When you get some creative ladies together and give them something called a "Boob-Voyage" to plan--boy do they ever plan!!! Nina was going to make the boob cake, Mireya was going to plan a surprise, and about 35 people said YES of course they would come!!
Shopping for the party was so much fun--our decorations? Why bras from the dollar store, of course! And purchased boob balloons from some kind of bachelor party store online, indeed. Boob-shaped pasta? Certainly!
The spread included pink dishes and boob-themed food items.
I of course had to make a speech about my story and how important the Avon Foundation was and why I was having a party...
The fabulous boob-cake made by Nina.
Our Avon Walk reps--oh and I almost forgot! I asked people to invite breast cancer survivors to come to the party to celebrate survival!
We played boob-themed games (of course-it was a shower after all!), such as how many euphamisms for boobs can you come up with and also match the boob-related quote with the movie it was in.
I decorated with various inspiring and funny quotes.
There are the boob balloons and bras we decorated with.
A great pillow that everyone signed by the end of the day.
Our "Booby-prizes" for winning our games. They are boob-shaped stress-balls!
My silliness that day...
Next we asked everyone to read or recite the joke they brought (boob related or not) on tape so that I could watch the video of it during recovery--laughter being a great medicine, you know!
At the end of the party we counted up the funds--over $500 was donated to the Avon Walk that day! And I felt so loved. I also felt like I gave a little F-YOU to cancer. Like hey, I can have cancer or go through treatment and still be awesome and have a good attitude. The support helps. I'll talk in later posts about ONLY being positive or up-beat. Doesn't quite work like that...but for now, I'll just end with great memories of a fabulous Boob Voyage Party!!
Sunday, March 27, 2011
My story...and why I'm doing this
In March of 2010 I had pain in my left breast which led me to see my gynecologist. She sent me for a mammogram and subsequently I had a suspicious area biopsied. Because of my family history of breast and ovarian cancer, I decided to also be tested at the same time for the BRCA genetic mutation. My maternal aunt died from ovarian cancer, my great aunt died from breast cancer, and my grandmother died from pancreatic cancer. My biopsy was on a Tuesday, and on Thursday I received a call that not only did I have DCIS breast cancer, I was also BRCA 2 positive. This meant that over my lifetime I had an 84% chance of developing breast cancer (which I had already developed) and a 29% chance of developing ovarian cancer (which I had already developed). Pancreatic and melanoma are also part of the gene, but a smaller percentage risk increase. I was devestated, but not deterred. One month later I had 10 hours of surgery to remove my uterus, remaining ovary (I had my right ovary removed when I was 23 due to a borderline ovarian cancer diagnosis then--which I now know was part of the BRCA), and both of my breasts.
I chose not to have reconstruction. I had done a lot of research and the complication rate being so high and the relative unknown outcome just wasn't for me. I had read that the minor complication rate was as much as 50%, and up to 39% of patients had major complications from reconstruction. Not to mention the fact that just because you get reconstruction doesn't mean you have fabulous Pamela-Anderson boobs. Nope...no feeling, you have to have a nipple fashioned out of skin, and then tattooed to look like a nipple. Sometimes you still have huge scars. Nah, not for me.
So the surgery was awful, I bled a lot from scar tissue and had to have two units of blood. I was in the hospital from a Tuesday to Friday. Not bad, given the amount of surgery I had! Recovery was pretty brutal, but I was out of work only 5 weeks. I will talk more about my surgery and recovery in later posts. I just wanted to get this up there and maybe a few photos up to start this out.
So that brings me to my purpose here. Kris Carr, who wrote Crazy Sexy Cancer, tells us that when we get the diagnosis, we go to Cancer College. We learn all about our cancer and what to do about it. We soak up page after page of books, we google til our eyes water, and we bump into friends who have been there. And we wallow in the sadness that can only be summed up by this: CANCER SUCKS.
I wanted to create a blog with my story and also photos. Photos of me--not the prettiest, and certainly not the thinnest woman who has gone through this surgery. I'm a regular woman that you might see at the mall, not gracing the pages of a magazine. I wanted to be real here. Sometimes the real is not pretty, not fabulous, and not glamorous. But what it isn't is terribly scary--when you educate yourself and when you realize that you are not alone. We are part of a club we never wanted to join--but once we do, we can do something positive with it and help each other. I hope this blog can help you if you are searching for answers.
I might not be able to update daily, but I will try to do my best to do it weekly. Thanks for visiting, and feel free to email me with any questions.
I chose not to have reconstruction. I had done a lot of research and the complication rate being so high and the relative unknown outcome just wasn't for me. I had read that the minor complication rate was as much as 50%, and up to 39% of patients had major complications from reconstruction. Not to mention the fact that just because you get reconstruction doesn't mean you have fabulous Pamela-Anderson boobs. Nope...no feeling, you have to have a nipple fashioned out of skin, and then tattooed to look like a nipple. Sometimes you still have huge scars. Nah, not for me.
So the surgery was awful, I bled a lot from scar tissue and had to have two units of blood. I was in the hospital from a Tuesday to Friday. Not bad, given the amount of surgery I had! Recovery was pretty brutal, but I was out of work only 5 weeks. I will talk more about my surgery and recovery in later posts. I just wanted to get this up there and maybe a few photos up to start this out.
So that brings me to my purpose here. Kris Carr, who wrote Crazy Sexy Cancer, tells us that when we get the diagnosis, we go to Cancer College. We learn all about our cancer and what to do about it. We soak up page after page of books, we google til our eyes water, and we bump into friends who have been there. And we wallow in the sadness that can only be summed up by this: CANCER SUCKS.
I wanted to create a blog with my story and also photos. Photos of me--not the prettiest, and certainly not the thinnest woman who has gone through this surgery. I'm a regular woman that you might see at the mall, not gracing the pages of a magazine. I wanted to be real here. Sometimes the real is not pretty, not fabulous, and not glamorous. But what it isn't is terribly scary--when you educate yourself and when you realize that you are not alone. We are part of a club we never wanted to join--but once we do, we can do something positive with it and help each other. I hope this blog can help you if you are searching for answers.
I might not be able to update daily, but I will try to do my best to do it weekly. Thanks for visiting, and feel free to email me with any questions.
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