Mastectomy

I was nine years old when my father's mother died of breast cancer. I remember sitting at her funeral, on the front row, and every time I saw her picture I would cry. Mostly because I was so sad that I would never get to know her. I also remember hearing from the many women whom she had helped. She had started a shelter for victims of domestic violence, a problem she understood personally as she was a victim herself. These women cried and praised my grandmother for all that she had done for them, she had saved their lives. In the end cancer killed her. I think it was at that time, and because of that experience, that I was sure that I too one day would get cancer. I just always assumed it would be breast cancer. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be butt cancer!

I have gone back-and-forth at least 5000 times with the question of what do I do with the knowledge I have that I have an increased risk for breast cancer. My risk keeps going higher and higher with each passing year, with more and more research pouring in with regards to my specific genetic flaw, it now stands at up to a 48% chance. So everyday is basically a coin flip of whether or not I will get breast cancer.

I didn't get a choice the first time around. I didn't know that I had this genetic flaw, I didn't know that this ran in our family. Had I known, oh my, how my choices would have been different. It makes my head spin to think about that. But with this, I know. I know. So I am taking my future in my hands and tomorrow I will be having a prophylactic mastectomy with reconstruction.

I am an open book so of course most people who are close to me know that this is happening. Some have joked that I am so lucky that I get to get a boob job and have my insurance pay for it. That is not the way I see this. It is actually quite difficult for me. It is very sad for me. This is very difficult. It is very hard to sign myself up for a whole crap load of pain. The first time around, I had no choice. I had to get the tumor out of my body. But this, this is my choice. And it's really hard to make. I don't feel lucky. I feel sad. I feel stressed. Worried. Concerned about all the complications that could happen. Problems. Infections. I will have no feeling - all the nerves are cut. I have been researching this for a year now. I have seen pictures and read detailed accounts of every single possible problem you could possibly imagine. I am nothing short of terrified. I don't want to do this. And I have told every doctor that I have met that I don't want to do this. I would have never in my life found myself in a plastic surgeon's office under any other circumstances. There is no judgment from me for people that do find themselves in those offices, but as for me that just would not have been something that I would voluntarily do. I like my body. I am sad that it will never be the same again. The changes are permanent. It is not an upgrade.

You cannot change my mind about this. Because I have seen more than you have seen, and I know more than you know, and that's all there is to it.

With all that being said, I know I am supposed to do this. I know that without question. The fact that I so strongly don't want to do this, yet know I have to, makes me frightened to think about what would happen if I didn't. I have spent countless hours of contemplation, study, and prayer weighing this decision and I know it is something I have to do.

I really struggled with trying to figure out what I was supposed to say to my kids. How do I explain to them that I am cutting out all of my breast tissue. How can I make them understand without scaring them. We gave a very generic explanation of what was happening and warned them that I was going to be limited and hurting for a little while. But that I was doing this just to be sure that the cancer didn't come back.

A couple days after we had this conversation, Ethan was sitting with me on the couch. His head was in my lap and I was playing with his hair.

"Mom, what kind of cancer would you get if you don't have this surgery?"
"Breast cancer," I replied
"Does that kind of cancer kill people?"

Up until this point, I didn't know if my kids knew that people died from cancer. It was never anything they brought up when I was sick and it was never anything that I had the heart to tell them. Besides, I really didn't want them thinking about me dying.

"Yes you can die from that kind of cancer," I said.
"Mom, will you please do that surgery? Please please do it mom. I know it's going to be hard but please do it."

I want to raise my kids. I want to live a nice long life. I want my kids to grow up without having to wonder about cancer killing their mother. I will go through anything and do everything I can. Even if it scares me. Even if I really don't want to.

A few years ago there was a woman in our ward that was diagnosed with breast cancer. I still remember vividly the first time she came to church after her mastectomy. I couldn't stop looking at her chest! I told myself to look away, I told myself I was being weird. But I just knew somehow, what she was experiencing was going to be in my future. I told myself I was being ridiculous. I told myself I was being a drama queen and a hypochondriac and every other thing you can think of. But I just somehow knew.

I'm grateful for technology and that because we know about the genetic link to cancer, that I get to do this before I get another cancer diagnosis. I'm grateful that the power is in my hands, and then I get to be strong enough to get to this horrible evil before it gets me.

We have a lot going on in our lives right now. We had a leak in our foundation, which caused nearly $40,000 worth of damage to our house. We are living in a temporary rental house and our house will not be done before my surgery is scheduled. I have thought over and over again about how I should just delay the surgery but I just don't feel right about that so we're moving forward and I'm trying my best to deal with all of the stress as best as I can. I really feel like our life has just been one roller coaster after another. For the last couple of years. I would love it to just kind of calm down for little bit, ha ha. But I'm just trying to throw my hands in the air and scream and laugh as we ride the ride and do the loop da loop and live through one wild adventure after another.