First Step

We visited with the Breast Surgeon this week. It all seems so surreal, but part of the process. She talked through my family history, gave me an exam and explained the process. It all seems so matter of fact. Luckily, I really like her. She was personable, nice and explained things in great detail. I actually felt like I was doing the right thing. And let me tell you, that is a big deal for me.

My mom was a very natural person. She didn't want to do treatment for her cancer and I think she would have flipped if she knew I had taken the BRCA test and started to explore this option~ prophylactic mastectomy with reconstruction. So no matter what I am doing, there is a small voice that I attribute to my mom~ "why are you doing this? You don't even know if you'd get cancer. This is so extreme." It is a constant struggle between how I grew up and what I know now...and my family. Some days it sucks and others it challenges me. I love my mom dearly, but I know I have her stubborn-ness. Which can be good and bad.

My next step is to meet with a plastic surgeon. I can't believe I'm meeting with a plastic surgeon and I'm not thrilled. You would think I would be picking a huge breast size and start to enjoy this new ride, but I'm a little nervous. My surgeon told me the whole process could take up to 8 months. Wow, with two small kids, this is a BIG undertaking. She said I would stay in the hospital for 2 days and not be able to exercise or lift heavy things for about 4 weeks. For those who know me, that's a long time not to workout. I'm kind of obsessed with working out and doing push-ups (I have bad arms and I've worked hard to get them under control). It really might push me over the edge. This is how sick I am......I've been trying to think of the things I could do that wouldn't hurt my arms, chest, etc. I know this is all worth it, but still hard to wrap my mind around.

I do have a peace about doing the surgery. Although it scares me, I know what I am doing will help me in the long run. According to my doctors, it isn't a matter of IF I get cancer, but WHEN. With my family history and that I am BRCA2 positive, my chances are high. They say I have a 40-80% chance of getting breast cancer and with this surgery, I can make it 1-2%. And all I can think about is: I WANT TO KNOW MY GRANDKIDS!!! I still cry thinking about how my kids will never know their grandma. They will never know how fun, sweet, and strong she was. They will never know that she loved crafts, garage sales, angels and laughing. That she liked to sing Christian songs, could let you know what she was thinking without saying a word, and liked to hide chocolate around the house (I could always find it). I want to be around. I want to be healthy. I want to do what I can to survive.

I have a long road ahead of me. I have a lot to think about. Until my meeting with the plastic surgeon, I will think of questions, pray and get ready for anything.

The Adventure Begins

In November, 2008, I found out I was BRCA-2 positive. A month later, my mom died from breast cancer. It was a tough month and I was about to see that my life would never be the same with this new found knowledge.

My sister and I both were tested around the same time, but thank goodness, I was the only one that had it. My cousins were both tested too and only one tested positive for the gene. So far we were right with the statistics. Their mother (my mom's sister) also died from breast cancer.

Many decisions were to be made, and in the midst of grieving the loss of my mother. I remember going to the doctor and talking about the statistics for me to get breast cancer and hearing about all the screening I was to do. I teared up just thinking about how this disease MIGHT effect my life.

Exams. mammograms, breast MRIs, pelvic ultrasounds- my head was spinning as I realized how this new knowledge was about to change my life forever. I remember my first breast MRI. I was waiting at the hospital alone, not sure what this was going to be like. It was an eye-opening experience. After signing that I could die from the procedure (only a 5% chance), I walked into the room and heard the instructions. I was inside the machine and the test started. It was loud and uncomfortable. I was reminded of a conversation I had with my mom years before. I was encouraging her to get another MRI so we knew what was going on with the cancer. She didn't want to. She said it hurt. It was uncomfortable. It was loud. I had no idea and I still don't, fully. I didn't have a chest that had radiation burns all over it and cancer in it. I had NO idea what I was begging my mom to do and now I had a SMALL idea what it was like. I cried.

I also remember the first time I walked into Minnesota Oncology to meet with my new doctor (she would be monitoring me and making sure I was keeping up with my testing). I teared up as I sat in a waiting room with cancer patients and of course, one that looked like my mom. It is amazing to me how many people look like my mom now that she is in heaven. I knew things would be difficult from that day on, but I was ready to fight. Just not sure how far I should go.

My GYN encouraged me to look into prophylactic surgery and eventually having my ovaries removed. I wasn't too sure about that right away. I continued my testing and actually took a little break because it was so expensive. About a year later, I have started the process of a prophylactic mastectomy and am about to journal the whole experience. Get ready to hear it all~the good, the bad, the ugly. : )