There are a lot of things no one tells you and most people don’t know until you are right there down in the cancer trenches. The initial diagnosis after biopsy will yield information about the tumor such type of breast cancer, hormone status, HER2 status. The MRI will reveal ball park size of tumor and location. The size can change once they get it out. Mine was significantly smaller than anticipated. The MRI suggested my lymph nodes were clear. Well, that was wrong. One node had micro cells. Initially, we thought I’d escape needing chemo. All I would need was Herceptin and Perjeta for a year. Everyone on my team has different fields of expertise. What does that mean exactly? Surgical oncologist and plastic surgeon were hopeful that I would not need chemotherapy. When it was discovered that one node was positive, the game changed and I would need chemotherapy and a medical oncologist. My team would grow. I knew that going in but I think it rattled my husband more than it rattled me. The MRI cannot definitively show whether lymph nodes have cancer in them. I don’t think any of the standard tests of mammograms, ultrasounds nor MRIs can. Definitive aswers come after surgery and it’s hard waiting to find out how your life is going to proceed and change after surgery.
I also knew that in terms of breast cancer that I am considered young and that meant more aggressive treatment. The combination of a node and age put radiation on the table. Again, I knew that but I don’t think my husband did. There are no definitive answers until the surgeons open us up and start taking things out. Until then, merely educated guesstimates. To be fair, I have done a shit ton of reading since being diagnosed so there were no surprises for me. In hindsight, I think I should have prepared him better, lol! Fortunately, I did not need radiation. Had there been two nodes involved, I’d be a little crispy right now.
Now as I near final reconstructive surgery, drains are up in the air. No one can definitively say whether or not I’ll need them after surgery until surgery. I’m good with that. I trust my surgeon completely. I do know that I will have the newer silicon implants with more alloderm most likely. I know I’ll be a bit smaller than I am now, which is great. I’m a C right now and these things get in the way sometimes. I understand why they're refered to as knockers since they tend to knock into things all day long. I am glad I can see my toes when I look down but I want to see a little more of my feet. These things are just too big for me. Originally I thought I wanted to be a C. Both surgeons said because I have a small athletic build, I’m better suited for a B. Plastic surgeon decided to leave one a B and the other a C for several months so I could decide for myself. They were right, the B is better. I guess that was another plot twist in the book of breast cancer.
With all of these plot twists, what happens to the main character? Does the main character stay the same, does she change? Am I still me? Just like any good novel, there’s a protagonist (me) and an antagonist (cancer), you can probably guess the conflict in this story. The rising action became the diagnosis, double mastectomy and chemotherapy which led to the climax. “Cancer free.” The most intense moment of my cancer story, the turning point of my life. I can exhale as I breeze through the descending action of getting my health and life back in preparation for final reconstruction, closer to finishing the novel of cancer, but are we ever truly done with that book?. I still have targeted therapy until January, with hopefully no more plat twists thrown in.
Am I still me? Yes and No. I am still a wife and mother who puts her family first. I am still a runner and health nut, but perhaps more conscious of the environment and how it impacts my life. What has changed? Well, I had cancer and chemotherapy, nothing scares me anymore. Ain’t got time to be afraid. Life really is too short. I’ve become the one thing I have always wanted my sons to be, and perhaps I learned this from them. I have become brave and bold. I am more outspoken than I have ever dreamed possible. I don’t particularly care what others think of me or how I look. I am sporting this grey micropixie (I gave my hair style a name!) like I own it. I’ve earned it. This breast cancer is just one of my stories of triumph. I have learned that we all have valuable stories to tell, myself included. We need to start sharing and listening to one another.
Why are people reluctant to share their no so pleasant stories? In the beginning I thought I wanted to keep my story private. Obviously, I’ve changed my mind. Sharing my journey comes easy tom me. I cannot even begin to tell you all how many times strangers have contacted me about how my blog has helped them in all sorts of ways. I started writing all of this to help myself process what was happening. I keep writing because I am always processing this dynamic journey. If you or anyone you know is about to embark on this crazy train, reach out to me. I’ll be there to hold a hand, a shoulder to cry on or be cracking jokes. One thing for sure, I’ll continue to be real about my series of plot twists.
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