My Non-Pink Journey with Breast Cancer Revisited

 

 

I wrote a similar post about my Breast Cancer journey. Most of it is a re-hash about my very personal feelings about breast cancer and the treatment, not awareness.

I’m not sure why October has been designated for so-called “Breast Cancer Awareness”, but my most memorable moments in October are the trees turning to autumn colors, my husband’s birthday, and Halloween, but not Breast Cancer.  Soon enough there is the ensuing rush of things to do and places to go, leading up to and including Thanksgiving and Christmas. 

 

It had been over twenty years years since I finished my first breast cancer treatments.  My breast cancer journey has been relatively easy when compared to what others endure or don’t survive. Some cancer patients call themselves survivors.  I don’t.  I see myself as someone who has thrived regardless of the bump in the road that was Breast Cancer.

 

It was a big friggin’ bump, but a bump that derailed life as I knew it for that time.

 

But I got back on track. I did what had to be done and moved on with my very busy and noisy life.

https://weneedmoresundaydinners.blogspot.com/2015/10/my-non-pink-twelve-year-journey-with.html

If you read the previous post you’ll see I had a really good personal connection with my surgeon and team. I like that he used the first person plural when discussing my condition, it was a bond in a weird way, that we’re in ‘this’ together. It was a like a good marriage.

 

On the occasion of almost twenty years, my appointment was with a practitioner who has navigated with me through this journey. I was her last appointment as she was retiring. She assured me that twenty years was a great time marker for disease recovery.

But the following year before my next mammogram there was another occurrence, a bump in the road. Stuff happens.

 

My original surgeon relocated to another state. I had made up my mind early on that I would opt for a mastectomy. It was not a difficult decision for me and I had family support. It is true when the someone says, “it’s not the cancer, it’s the treatment…”

 

My new surgeon ‘valiantly’ argued that I did not need a mastectomy. She advocated the ‘gold standard’ of treatment today was so much better and advanced than what it was twenty years ago. 

 

We screened for the type of cancer and the size. I held my ground for the mastectomy. Empathizing with her professional expertise, this was a time for me to advocate for myself and my body. I considered my age and other health issues and was firm in my decision. 

 

I believe I said out loud, “I am over this shit. They’ve given me nothing but trouble.”

 

I got a double mastectomy. It was uneventful. I healed relatively fast. As anyone whose been there knows, the drains are the worst. My husband became the best assistant nurse in the daily grind of stripping and measuring those drains. 

 

On any given day I have a few not so monumental decisions to make as I get dressed – but have fun with it. I have a drawer full of prosthetics. My biggest decisions include this: shall I choose big ones, little ones, soft ones, hard ones or none at all. It’s a variety pack of assorted textures and sizes. I have no problem going flat. Flatties will tell you that it is liberating.

 

Along this new journey I’ve found a lot of support for women who opt for no reconstruction. I also have enlisted to volunteer for a group called “Knitted Knockers”, https://www.knittedknockers.org  providing free handmade breast prostheses for women who have had breast cancer and undergone mastectomy or lumpectomy. They are soft, comfortable and beautiful. When placed in a regular bra they take the shape and feel of a real breast.

 

Along this journey the best medicine was something not procured by prescription or a surgical procedure. My husband’s constant presence and support is more healing than anything a doctor could prescribe. We lend strength to each other and get on with life. That’s thriving.