Double Mastectomy update
As the years go by, I think about that fact less and less. It’s not that I want to forget about my double mastectomy surgery at all. That season of my life was honestly one of the most moving, transformative seasons I’ve ever known. I just think the further away you get from an experience, the more you forget about the pain, your corpse-like chest, and the every day tasks that all of a sudden seemed impossible like opening doors and trying to beat a child-proof pill top. In the last six years, I’ve been able to process everything and ultimately heal – both physically and emotionally. Many women grieve the loss of a body part when going through this experience, especially if they were really fond of their breasts. For me, I was never fully invested in my old boobs to be honest. Those little suckers could barely fill out my Victoria Secret 34B padded bra. I was never a boob girl. I’ve got a booty that commanded control way back when my mom had to buy me elastic waistband jeans as a kid. My B(maybe even sometimes A)-cup never stood a chance.
In the last six years, I’ve been witness to an outpouring of love, support and thanks for sharing my story. I always said if it helped one person, I’d done my job. There was no way to understand how many lives my preventative double mastectomy would touch, and so if you read nothing else today, please read this: Talk to others. Share your story. Open up to people. It will lead you down a path that you never thought imaginable full of camaraderie, support, love and empowerment.
Life post-surgery
I met Alex a year after my surgery, and now we’re finally married with a busy toddler! While life certainly looks different than it did in 2017, I don’t think of myself any differently post-surgery except for the fact that I’m healthier for it, of course. I don’t look at myself in the mirror differently. I don’t sleep differently. And I don’t eat differently. I don’t workout differently. Life post-surgery looks very similar to life pre-surgery because I didn’t let a double mastectomy change me for the worse. It absolutely changed me for the better. I think my story could’ve been a lot different, but I’m grateful I came away without complications, infections and most importantly, breast cancer. No longer did I have those potentially cancerous cells hanging around my boobs that could be a ticking time bomb any day of the week.
As that April bloomed on, my chest began to heal. So much growth comes from pain, no matter if that pain manifests its way in the physical or emotional form.
You’re gonna be happy, said Life, but first I’ll make you strong.
Oh how I love this quote! Suffering, of any kind, connects us all. It unifies humanity in a way that always gives us some kind of common ground. Every experience has the ability to shape us into powerful people if we allow it and most importantly, if we FEEL it. If we never process a change that’s trying to take place within us, we risk not being able to shift old habits and patterns. What we resist persists. If we allow that growth and transformation to take place, beautiful things can blossom.
I’m often asked if I have any regrets since surgery.
The answer is always a resounding “no.” How could I regret living a healthier life and giving my daughter the best chance at spending the most time with her mom? When I exercise or stand in a weird position, sometimes my boobs ripple, but then I remember that I have a 1% chance of being diagnosed with breast cancer in my life, and that’s pretty freaking cool. I wouldn’t change a thing from my timeline to my doctors to my reconstruction to my outlook. I think the two most important things to be aware of in this situation are support systems and a healthy body image/self love/acceptance.
Nobody can walk through this alone, and with the help of amazing family, friends and social media strangers, I was able to recover quickly. I’ve also grown up with a healthy outlook on body image. My parents raised three daughters, and I never once remember a scale ever being in the house. Obsessing over numbers only drives insanity. The positive attitude I hold towards my own physical being helped me look in the mirror after the fact and continue to like what I saw. Cool scars. Battle wounds. Badges of honor. And lest we forget: babies will thrive on formula just as much as they’ll thrive on breast milk. Nobody gets a medal for either one.
Now that I’m a mother to a little girl, the BRCA gene has new meaning.
I do wonder if I’ve passed it down to her. But it doesn’t consume me because I know that whatever happens, we’ll have the knowledge and tools to move forward however she decides. I think back to March of 2014 when my own mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I got the call one night when I was living abroad in Argentina. It was my dad on the phone who said it first. “Your mom has breast cancer,” was what I heard and immediate fear and tears were what I felt. You never want to hear “mom” and “cancer” in the same sentence. Just three weeks later, she had her double mastectomy on March 31st, 2014.
My sisters and I were able to get tested because we found out that she was positive for the BRCA gene. To me, my mom saved my life. Knowledge is power, and having that information is life saving. She has always shown me how to go through life with grace, making sure it was always chock full of fun and laughter. It’s no surprise, then, that she’d be my role model as I went through this journey six years ago. I want to be that same rock for my daughter one day.
Going public with my preventative double mastectomy has taught me that being open and vulnerable not only aids in the healing process, but it can also save lives. I don’t mean for that to sound all Grey’s Anatomy dramatic, but I have never known the sheer power of social media and blogging until this experience. To this day, I continue to have multiple digital conversations each week regarding the BRCA gene, surgery, and beyond because being an advocate for women’s health and early prevention is something that’s so important to me. I have found some of the most amazing humans from this experience including LimitLes Travel participants and other breasties who have joined us on The Road Les Traveled.
Having a great support group is imperative in healing.
And I know that sharing my story has helped other women with a similar story cope with the emotional and physical pain. To thrive. To rise. And to survive. Cancer or no cancer. I believe that when we’re open, authentic, and portray the truest version of ourselves, our confidence has an opportunity to shine brighter than ever before. It’s approachable and creates a domino effect, giving other women who walk a similar path the strength they need to finish the drill. At the end of the day, we know that whatever we went through had a purpose. Bloom on, wild ones.
Happy birthday, foobs 🙂
I will be celebrating my foobs 4 year birthday in August. the doctor tried to talk me into lumpectomy but I didn’t want to deal with this again. I made the right choice as 3 more cancers were found during surgery. I followed your story and recommended products and you were a life saver. thank you for putting your knowledge out there. You helped this 64 year old lady so much!