Getting It Off My Chest.

Disclosure: This post will be heavy on the "breast talk".  If you don't want to read the intimate details about my chest, stop reading now.

 



In April Stephanie and I had decided that the next destination for our annual girls-trip would be Portland, OR.  We were planning on going on September so that we could run the Race for the Cure.  I was looking at the race registration, and one of the sections it wanted you to complete was the name of someone you knew that had, had breast cancer, that you would be running "for".  I made a weird face when I saw that.  I didn't know of any close aquaintances who had suffered through breast cancer?
The joke is on me, I guess?
Obviously, Steph and I had to put our trip on "hold", for 2015.  But we WILL be meeting up in 2016.  And this time I will be able to sign up (and get a discount!) as a race participant that is a breast cancer survivor.
I may get a shirt made that has my face emblazoned on it!
Or, I may try to get a shirt like this:

So, next week I meet with my general surgeon to discuss the surgery I am having in December.
This past week, I met with the genetic counselor at HCI.  I should have had my test results ages ago.  But, HCI thought that McKay Dee had done them (they hadn't).  Go figure???
The genetic counselor asked me if she need to put a "rush" on my results?  In case I wanted them, to help me make a decision about what kind of surgery to opt for.
I've had time to think about it.  And the genetics isn't going to factor in to things for me. At all.
Granted, I want to see if I carry the BRCA1, or BRCA2 genes; or one of the other high-risk genes; entirely because I want to know if my daughters will have to worry about this!
There isn't a history of breast cancer in my family, but because I got breast cancer at such a young age there's a higher risk of it being genetic, for me.

Back to the story about my boobs...
I'd say that any thought of mastectomies/breast cancer first popped up on my radar about ten years ago when I was working for TCBWA.  One of the relationship managers was a breast cancer survivor, and had, had a double-mastectomy.
I remember thinking, "it's a no-brainer!  of course you have a mastectomy".
It's really easy to say that, when it's someone else's "lovely lady lumps".

When it is your own set of jugs "on the line", it's a lot more difficult to be nonchalant about chopping them off.
In fact, the first thing I panicked about, after I found out that I had breast cancer, was the potential loss of my bosoms.  They are a huge part of my emotional sexual identity.
I've always been proud of my bra-stuffers.  36C is the perfect size, and that's me.

Even through the first round of chemo, I wasn't certain about what I wanted to do with my ta-ta's?
Before I started chemo, the tumor had changed the appearance of my right fun-bag.  It was pretty disfigured.  My nipple had even started turning in on itself.
After that first round, my hooter went back to a somewhat normal appearance.  But I did notice a nasty puss-like discharge from my nipple on one particular day.  Gross.

I was doing as much research as my chemo-brain could handle!  I was talking to other survivors, and listening to their suggestions.  One lady had a lumpectomy, and her cancer came back afterward!

By round 2 of the chemo, I knew I NEVER wanted to do this again!
It also helped that I found a reconstruction procedure called a DIEP.  Essentially, they give you a tummy tuck- and then use that tissue to rebuild your melons!  Sign me up!

I had made a decision.  And my ideal scenario was: to get a bi-lateral mastectomy AND a hysterectomy (I'm going through menopause, and I have become OK with not having any more kids- so clean out all my "girly-parts" in one fell-swoop!).  And then to have immediate reconstruction via the DIEP.

Unfortunately, I am not a candidate for immediate reconstruction.  Since I have to have radiation I cannot get re-built right away.  Ho-Hum.  I still want the double mastectomy.

I have not yet had a consultation with the plastic surgeon, and I know there's a possibility that I might not have enough of a "spare tire" to use to make two new peaches out of.   But this is one time that the fact that I carry most of my excess weight on my tummy, works in my favor.  I'm also not as sad that I've put on 15 pounds since I started chemo.

Of course, I'm not thrilled with the idea of walking around entirely flat-chested for months on end...  But seriously, I cannot do this again.

Since I've run out of nicknames for knockers, this'll be a good place to finish off my blog post.  All good things must come to an end.  Apparently, this includes my bazooms.  For obvious reasons, I think I'll start referring to them as Thelma & Louise.  They're certainly going out in a blaze of glory!