Its taken me a while to get to writing this. Mostly because life got in the way. I am just days away from my prophylactic mastectomy....and I got diagnosed with breast cancer. Bummer, to say the least. The moment my surgeon called me with my biopsy results, I felt my knees buckle. It was the single most surreal moment to date. I have sometimes imagined what it would be like to receive truly awful news. The realness of what it feels like. The knowing that it isn't a joke or a dream and there isn't a damned thing that you can do to alter the course. My first thought after hearing the news was, "I do not want to leave my kids without a mother."
This new addition to my journey doesn't really change anything for the moment. Surgery will continue as planned, except with the addition of a sentinel node biopsy. My cancer came back estrogen receptor positive...which was another surprise for me, as most BRCA1-related cancers are triple negative (If this is confusing to you, Google it, because I don't feel like explaining it all right now). The bottom line is that I had to come off my estrogen. And I can never go back on it. The up-side is that ER+ cancers apparently have a better prognosis. I am banking on that right now.
The days after getting my diagnosis, I think I went through every single emotion known to mankind (and probably a few that I created myself). I became really angry. I felt my body had betrayed me. I mean, I did everything right....I followed a good diet, got lots of exercise, went to regular check-ups...and when I found I carried the mutation, I jumped through all the hoops of getting the surgeries I needed. BUT I STILL GOT EFFING CANCER! I mean, what the hell???!!!
Then I got really grateful. I realized that had I never gotten tested, I would probably not have gotten my first real mammogram until sometime next year. I would have continued breastfeeding Anthony, and all the while, this tumor would have continued to grow. I am sure I would have caught it sooner or later, but still. I wouldn't have caught it NOW. And now is super-important. We are hopeful that this cancer is in its earliest stages...mostly DCIS (which in a regular population might not even be considered cancer). But I am not the regular population. My cancer had started to leave the confines of the ducts...something called micro-invasion. Not quite invasive, but heading in that direction. It remains to be seen the full extent of the cancer. The final pathology report from the tissue submitted after my mastectomy and the sentinel node biopsy, will for the most part, dictate any further treatment I will need. Chemo may be in my future. But I don't know to what extent my BRCA1 status will play into how this is dealt with. And there is also my family history and my age. I have the honorable distinction of being the youngest woman diagnosed with breast cancer in my family. Yay, me!
This has all brought up some crazy feelings and thoughts. Sometimes they come to me while I am walking around or doing the laundry, and I think to myself, "I should write that down." But as I sit at the computer now, they all escape me. Right now, its the not knowing that is killing me. All I can do is research as much as I can and wait. Wait for someone to tell me that I am going to be just fine, or that I am going to need a whole lot more than I signed up for. I also wish that I could find a way to navigate through these menopause symptoms. Estrogen is out. And sadly, there isn't a whole lot of other options...low-dose anti-depressants? Well that's just....depressing. Times like this make it abundantly clear how little we as a society care about the health of women. I mean, why are we here at this point where my only option for prevention (at least one that was comfortable to me) was to lop off body parts? And what did that do for me? Not a whole lot. I feel like I am in a maze, and just when I think I have things sorted out, I find that I have gone down a wrong passageway and ended up at a brick wall. Don't get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful for all the wonderful care I have received. And progress has been made. In the 15 years since my mother had cancer, so much has improved. Just one look at her pathology report compared to mine can show you that. But I still feel a little bit miffed I find it ironic that just as I am being diagnosed at age 41, the new recommendations for starting mammograms is 45. Granted that is without a family history or genetic mutation...but I find myself asking, "what about all the women in their 20's and 30's with NO family history that get diagnosed? What about the people who don't know their family histories? What about all the people that carry a mutation, but don't know? What about the mutations that we haven't yet identified? The breast cancer forums I am part of have lit up with anger at these new recommendations. I have seen more than one response that reads like, "Under the new screening recommendations, I would be dead."
So, that's it for now. I am where I am. My mother arrives in a few short hours, and all will be right in the world. She is a rock. She can get me through anything. I may have inherited this mutation from her, but I have inherited so much more from her...strength, the ability to persevere, and a willingness to fight. She said something to me after I called her to tell her my diagnosis. She said, "I wish I could go through this for you, but I can't. So instead, I will go through it WITH you." I love her so much!!!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment