All tagged Cancer
Even though *I* am not returning to school, there is still something about this time of year that feels more new year-ish than New Year’s. And this back-to-school season, I’m feeling it more than most: in just two months The Luckiest will be in your hands and next week I will undergo what I hope is my final breast reconstruction surgery. I am saying ta ta to my uncomfortable and temporary tatas (ie expanders) and hello to my more permanent ones (implants).
Not having a memory-filled home base never really bothered me before. I’ve enjoyed living all over, experiencing and getting to know different parts of the country. It’s exciting, new, and different, all of which I have a history of gravitating toward. But lately I’ve been craving something simpler, something known: a touchstone.
Lately I’ve been feeling unmotivated. Questioning if a depressive episode is creeping in. I’ve settled on the term malaise - mostly because I like the way it sounds. Turns out it is also an accurate usage of the word: a feeling of being unwell, fatigued, or generally not yourself.
As of yesterday, I am officially two weeks post-op. The god-awful drains sucking the gross body juice out of the remnants of my chest have finally been removed. Which means I’m no longer wearing specialized bras with hooks, or shirts with internal pockets to hold the collection bags which my mom then has to empty 2-3 times a day. Oh, and I no longer feel like a compromised cancer patient.
Well, next week is my mastectomy and I’m ready – emotionally, anyway. I still need to double check supplies and be sure I have everything that has been recommended to me, but at this point I’m just anxious to be on the other side of this surgery. All while fully aware that there is at least one more surgery awaiting me this fall to place the implants, and possibly another after that to fine tune the reconstruction.
A few months ago Miguel got an offer to do a corporate gig in St. Kitts/Nevis and he said, “hell yes”. Then we realized I was going to need a mastectomy, and I said, “hell yes, I’m coming with you!” We are currently on - what I am referring to as - a “boobymoon”. Think honeymoon or babymoon, but instead of celebrating a marriage or a baby we are celebrating and honoring the end of my natural boobs.
When I was discussing treatment options with my surgeon for the original tumor, I figured I was for sure winning at cancer because I made her laugh when I told her I wasn’t attached to my breasts, “well, physically I am obviously, but not emotionally.” Essentially saying if you need to take them, so be it. But that was when it was my choice.
From the very beginning of my breast cancer journey, I was impressed with how quickly everything moved forward. I was able to get appointments with doctors within weeks of my positive biopsy. And then when I met with the doctors, they were able to tell me the type of cancer, how fast it was growing, how large it was, and whether it would be responsive to hormone therapy. All from a biopsy and some imaging.
I take a lot of pride in my strength even if it is not strength that I ever wanted to earn. I did earn it and it is mine. Which is why I think that this last week has been so hard. Because for the first time in a long time I have felt vulnerable, I have felt weak, I have not felt like myself – physically or emotionally.
In January, after a routine mammogram and ultra-sound (because dense breast club), the radiologist recommended I get a lump in each breast biopsied. Three weeks later, one turned out to be a large benign cyst. The other was cancer.
