Pink is the New Black

Okay, I just feel the need to warn you that this post may contain a bit of over-sharing.  But, lucky for you I am drawing the line at showing disgusting pictures of myself for now, because trust me, I have them.  I've always been an over-sharer.  I don't typically get embarrassed easily and I wouldn't consider myself very modest.  What little modesty I did have totally went out the window after 3 beers with the whole breast cancer thing.

You probably think "Pink is the New Black" is about all the pink breast cancer goodies I have gotten along the way.  While I am incredibly appreciative of those gifts, you'd be wrong.  Today we are going talk about...  Ready for this?  Nipples.  Go ahead and say it.  Nipples.  Did you smile?  It's okay, it's one of Mason's favorite words, too.

I've probably shown my boobs more legitimate times in the past 3 months than I did during my 4 years of college.  I'm flat out (flat, get it?) completely comfortable with doctors or really anyone else looking and touching my breasts now.  Not only have I been desensitized to their exposure socially and mentally, but since they are nearly completely numb I don't even have the physical sensation that I am being exposed.  For example, the other day I was eating a cookie my friend Brooke brought over and I look down and notice a big piece had fallen on my boob.  My first thought was "Yay, more cookie for me!" but my second thought was that it was strange to find a piece of cookie there and have been clueless.  How long had it been there?  Could anyone else see it?  So, I ate my new found treasure and went on my way...

I had a nipple sparing mastectomy, meaning I got to keep my nipples.  Since my mastectomy was done with prophylactic intentions, I was willing to take the 1% risk increase of cancer to keep my nipples.  Once I received my breast cancer diagnosis, I asked my surgeon if he thought I should have my nipples removed during future surgery and he said it wasn't at all medically necessary.  For women who do choose to keep their nipples, I believe they actually take a small shaving of the internal nipple tissue during the mastectomy to test for any gnarly cells just to be safe.  For women who do have their nipples taken during the mastectomy, there are several reconstruction options: they can actually grow a nipple, like Frankenstein of something, or women often opt for tattoo options of either a realistic looking nipple, or something artistic like tassels.

Okay, I'll get to the over-sharing part because I know that is the only reason you have spent the last 2 minutes reading about nipples:  Today I noticed my nipples were completely pink again, opposed to the black they had been for the past 6 weeks.  It was scary.  Remember the story where they scared Mason?  If not you can read it by clicking here.  Basically, your nipples (not mine anymore) have a rich supply of blood and nerves fed to them, that is why they are so sensitive.  So much tissue is removed during the mastectomy that it really reduces the blood supply to your nipples and necrosis (when you skin dies) often occurs.  It didn't hurt, it just turned into basically a giant scab.  Well, recently the scab has fallen off to reveal beautiful, pink nipples!  This bit of normalcy was very welcome after a month that has been anything but normal.

My Inner Warrior is Wilting

It's been over 2 days since I received the call that I have cancer? had cancer? (I'm not even sure what verb tense to use) got the news.  You'd think a call like that would send one into an instant tail spin.  Nope.  Perhaps I am a slow learner, but I went a full 52 hours (probably at least 47 of those awake hours) before I let any real tears fall.  That's got to be some sort of record, right?!  Let me tell you my secret:

1. Oxycodone.  It has a way of making most things a lot more tolerable.  Tissue expander pain, cancer diagnosis phone calls, Richard watching yet another Sasquatch show ~ all these excruciating things just don't seem quite as bad when you buzzed just enough that you can't completely see straight and feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  
2. Estrogen.  It's kind of like a happy pill.  It doesn't really make you happy, but it makes you stable.  I'm typically a really happy person, so stability is good.  No highs, no lows, just hormonal homeostasis.  
3. Utter exhaustion.  When you aren't sleeping and aren't eating, you don't have the energy to waste on frivolous things like crying, being angry, brushing your teeth or thinking about how shitty some news might be.  You just exist counting down the hours until your next pain pill.  

So, if you can keep that routine up (and more power to you if you can), who knows how long you can be numb and perceived as strong/brave/amazing/f'n awesome/a warrior.  In the last 2 days, I have been called all of those.  You are basically emotionally unstoppable.  To be honest, it isn't a horrible head space to be in.  While all the above words feel good, perhaps a more accurate description would have been 'oblivious'.  

The problem comes when you have to alter the above cocktail:

1. While still in pain from the expanders, I was now getting to the point where the pain wouldn't completely stop me in my tracks.  I was able to get in and out of bed without assistance.  I could take a deep breath without wincing.  And then I start thinking about the consequences if I don't wean myself off the oxycodone.  You may be thinking about addiction issues, but I'm thinking of something much bigger ~ constipation.  
2. When I got the cancer call, I was advised to immediately stop taking my estrogen.  If the cancer is estrogen fed (and from what I heard in my fugue state an estrogen fed cancer is actually preferred to some other forms of cancer) taking hormones are sort of like adding gasoline to a fire.  Even in my slightly high state, I knew that didn't sound like a very good idea.  
3. I'm still exhausted, but not quite exhausted enough.  It seems that I have slept just enough and eaten just enough to start feeling something other than tired, yet not enough to regulate any irrational thoughts.  So, I now have just enough energy to throw myself off of an emotional cliff, but none of the energy it takes to pull myself back together.  

As you can guess it's been a bit of a struggle  complete clusterfuck in the making in my head this evening.  I don't know exactly what is happening, but I've come to terms with whatever it is, it 1. sucks and 2. it is okay.  

It feels like my inner warrior is wilting. 

It's Cancer. Turns Out My Boobs Really Were Trying to Take Me Down!

I finally am able to get the pain under control.  Sleeping is still a struggle, but now that the pain is better I'm hopeful I can sleep better (note that I'm typing this post at 3:00 am).

It's about 4:30 pm on day 2.  Dr. Buckner (DBB) calls and wants to check in.  I think that it's great that he called and wanted to make sure I was comfortable and had enough pain meds to get me through the weekend.  Here's a bit of our conversation:

DBB:  Hi Julie, it's Dr. Buckner.  How are you feeling?
Me:  I'm doing okay.  I'm in some pain, but I think we are going to get that figured out.
DBB:  Julie, I got a report back from the lab and the lump we took out was cancer.
Me:  Huh?
DBB:  The lump we took out was cancer.  I am sure I got all the margins out, so that is good news.
Me:  Huh?  What does all this mean?
DBB:  Well, we can discuss things when you come in Monday for your visit.  I don't have the full report back, I just wanted to let you know as soon as I found out.
Me:  Okay.
DBB:  Julie, we are going to get this.  It's out!  We may need to do some more testing and biopsy a few nodes, but as far as breast surgeries, you shouldn't need any more of those regarding this cancer.  We'll work on setting you up with an oncologist.
Me:  Okay.  (I'm in shock and am having trouble talking at this point)

We wrap up our phone call.  While he dropped this huge bomb on me, there just wasn't anything that can be done at this moment.  I am in shock.  And I'm highly medicated (that's probably a good thing).  I keep thinking this is a bad dream.  He told me best case scenario it's an estrogen fed cancer, so that is what we are hoping for.  He said I should immediately stop taking my estrogen.  I actually called him back about 5 minutes later because I could not comprehend what he was saying.  As the phone is ringing I'm trying to convince myself that maybe he said 'pre-cancerous' and that wouldn't be so bad.  He answers his phone and I ask for some clarification.  Nope, he definitely said cancer.  So, now we wait.  I freaking hate waiting!  He confirms our follow-up appointment for Monday.

Richard and I briefly talk about it, but again we both are in shock.  We didn't see this coming at all.  All I really want is for Richard to hug me and hold me right now, but that isn't going to happen anytime soon thanks to these sucky tissue expanders.

My mom was on her way home from her consult with Dr. Price, my plastic surgeon.  She called in while I was talking to DBB, so I needed to call her back.  I'm anxious to hear about her appointment and decided I would wait until she is home to tell her that the lump was cancer.

Me:  Hi Mom!  How are you?
Mom:  Good baby girl, how are you feeling?
Me: Well, um I'm okay.  Are you home or driving?
Mom: I'm driving.
Me:  Oh, okay.  Well, just call me when you get home.  How was your appointment?
Mom:  Julie, you tell me right now what is going on!

I tried so hard to sound positive and upbeat on the phone.  I certainly didn't want to worry her or cause her to wreck.  I considered not telling her until after my Monday appointment, but I knew she would want to know.  I can only imagine the shock it was to her, too.

Richard and were just talking about that lump and how it is a blessing in disguise.  I probably wouldn't have barreled through this mastectomy if I didn't have that lump.  I had a few people question if I were doing the right thing since I just had a hysterectomy less than 4 weeks ago.  I, too, was questioning if the mastectomy was a right decision for me.  But I had this gut instinct that I needed to push through, even if it was too fast for someone else, it was what was right for me.  THANK GOD that I listened to my own inner voice.

I'm in shock.  Cancer is kind of a big deal.  Stupidly The possibility of cancer didn't really enter my mind.  I have yet to cry more than 5 minutes about this.  I've already done the most radical treatment option there is.  What else can they take from me?  I mean, I'm running out of spare parts.  I continue to feel numb (true statement both physically and emotionally).

I've seen that sometimes cancer can be treated solely with a mastectomy.  I pray that's the case, but if it's not, I know I can handle whatever treatment I need...  Once again, God's got this!

God is still very good.  I was lead to push through with this mastectomy because He was preparing me.  The positive BRCA test, the worry, the hysterectomy, the mastectomy ~ all were preparing me for this.  He does not put us through trials to test our faith.  We encounter trials because he knows what's best.  While some may be angry or wonder why me (all totally valid feelings) I truly think these trials are bringing me and my family closer to him.

I hope to get some sleep now.  Thanks for reading!  For those of you who worry, know that between the Moss family and the Gillispie family we are STRONG!  Still in shock, but more importantly still feeling very blessed.

Eviction Day!

I don't even know where to begin.  I've intended to write a post for the past few days detailing my mastectomy surgery.  Frankly, I've been too exhausted or too drugged to make much sense, so bare with me.

On Tuesday, Oct. 14th Richard and I reported to the Surgery Center where my plastic surgeon, Dr. Price, marked me up.  My chest looked like a google road map.  Then, we head over to Cox South and wait in the waiting area for about an hour.  I'm nervous and Richard is being the strong, steady rock that he is.  

Waiting to board our plane to Cancun!
Obviously not really, but he sure did make me laugh.

Several of our friends and family have asked to be on a contact list to stay updated during my surgery.    Richard sent the above picture to everyone (including his boss) with the caption: "Waiting to Board Our Flight to Cancun!"  Obviously, we weren't going to Cancun, but it sure made me laugh.  I love that he can be beyond sensitive to the situation, but also finds a way to break the tension.  

Okay, so they call us back and we sit in a pre-op room what seems to be hours.  In actuality it was maybe only 2 hours.  After our 2 hour wait, both my doctors show up and the anesthesiologist.  My breast lump has gotten bigger since I had last seen my breast surgeon, Dr. Buckner.  I remind him of the lump and he feels around it for a bit.  It hurts, and I have always heard that is a good thing, because cancer doesn't usually hurt (not true).  I attributed it to being bigger because my body has been a hormonal battle ground.  He expresses some concern about the lump and says he's going to change the plan a bit and inject some blue dye in my breast.  I was a bit surprised, so honestly I can't exactly even tell you what the blue dye was for.  He still thought it was just a "fatty" but wanted to be sure to check it out.  Shortly after he tells us the new plan, the anesthesiologist is ready to go to town, and again that can't come soon enough.  I'm just thankful I don't have to do a repeat of my hysterectomy where they wheeled me into the operating room still awake.  

The surgery lasts for about 3 hours.  I have a very vague memory of recovery, but I do have an image of Richard walking towards me while I'm still in recovery.  Turns out, I was highly emotional from the anesthesia and the nurse snuck Richard back there for a few minutes hoping it would calm me down.  A huge shout-out to all the nurses who go above and beyond to help a put a patient at ease.  

Some time later, I'm guessing 4:30 in the afternoon, I get taken to my overnight room.  I have a roommate, which was a first for me.  Her name was Kathryn and she had a unilateral mastectomy that afternoon.  She's probably in her late 50's, has gray hair, a little sass, and is as nice as could be.  She reminded me a lot of my mom, which was so comforting.  We shared a lot about our families, our journey, and talked about our boobs a lot.  We even had a great conversation at 3:30 in the morning about how God is always looking over us.  I won't ever forget her.  She has chosen to not get reconstruction and I don't think she is on any kind of pain meds.  Me, on the other hand, am wanting to get my hands on anything they are willing to give me.  I'm in excruciating pain.  Damn tissue expanders.  I feel like I had done a million push ups.  I struggle to even hold up my water cup.  Oh, and we are both peeing bright green thanks to the blue dye.  That was interesting and made both Kathryn and I feel special.  I think we were getting a little punchy since we were sleep deprived.  

I am up most of the night, just able to fall asleep for 10 to 15 minutes at a time.  At one point, I woke up in extreme pain and the nurse quickly stepped up their game.  Those nurses work so hard, and we had some great ones in our room.  

Richard stayed with me until around 7:00 pm, but then switched places with Jill so she could come stay with me a bit.  I kept telling Jill and Richard that I felt this massive relief that the surgery was complete.  Yes, I was in a lot of pain, but it was still worth it because it needed to be done.    

The next morning, my breast surgeon, Dr. Buckner and my plastic surgeon, Dr. Price came in a little before 7:00 am to do rounds.  I really wished Richard was there because he does such a better job hearing what they are saying.  They both remove some bandages and take a look at things.  I tell them that I don't think I want to see them quite yet.  They were extremely respectful of that choice.  Both say that they look as good as possible at this point, so I'm pleased with that.  Eventually, I decide to look.  They are shriveled and rock solid (that's the tissue expanders).  I think they look like two rotten oranges or some deflated balloons.  Not attractive at all, but it's a process.  

I'm released a few hours later...  Over then next day I was in some serious pain.  I laid around a lot and I slept very little.  I put in a call to Dr. Price's office asking if we could do something to help that.  They modified my directions or taking my oxycodone and said I could also alternate ibuprofen.  The new pain management plan seems to be working now.  

Yay!  It's over!  It hurts like hell, but it is over!  

My office: complete with a notebook to journal my drain output and medicine schedule. chapstick, meds, lemon cookies to eat with the medicine so I don't get sick, Jesus Calling devotional, mints, water, and iPad.  Not a bad little set up.  

"I'm numb... which ironically is how my breasts will feel once all this is over."

I feel like I should write a post since I'm going in for my mastectomy tomorrow.  Truth is, I can't come up with anything positive, profound, funny, sappy or sad to write.  I'm numb... Which ironically is how my breasts will feel once all this is all over.  Much of the nerves are severed and removed during the mastectomy.

So many of my feelings off-set each other:

• Yes, this is a big deal, but it's not exactly a crisis.  
• Yes, I'm nervous for the procedure, but I'm also excited that lump will be gone.
• Yes, I fear my body will look deformed, but I am hopeful that once the reconstruction is over I will be pleased with the result.  
• Yes, this BRCA thing sucks, but it's also such a blessing to have this warning.
• Yes, the recovery will be very tough, but not nearly as tough as cancer.  

I read the following quote from a fellow BRCA sister who said this about a mastectomy: It's a hard decision to make, but not a difficult one.  

"It's a hard decision to make, but not a difficult one."
THIS is why it isn't difficult.  

Thinking about My Ta-ta's (and Trade-Ins)

I've been thinking a lot about boobs...

I feel mine a lot.  That lump has gotten way worse, I don't really fear it is cancer, but I definitely think my hormones have effected it.  Sometimes it stings and it is quite tender.  It scares me that if my body can grow a lump, then it can growth something worse, like cancer.  I'm not overly worried since my surgery is pending.  If I'm going to have a lump, now would be the time to have it because I know it will soon be evicted.  I'm ready to send that b!$@# packin'.  In a way, I am even grateful for it.  For me it serves as confirmation that I am making the right decision.  Without a pending mastectomy, rest assured, I would be in serious PANIC mode!

I look at pictures a lot...  Mostly post-op pictures. of women how have undergone prophylactic mastectomies.  It's scary.  Reconstruction is not an easy process.  There can be lots of complications.  There are lots of decisions to make.  So much unknown.  Once the whole process is complete, some of the results look absolutely beautiful and natural.  And some are downright hideous.  I pray that after the surgery, I am able to look at myself and know I made the right decision.  I know it will be tough, long road - physically and mentally.  A huge shout out to the women who have been vulnerable and brave enough to share their journey with pictures.

I've got to be honest, I love my boobs.  They have served me well.  I think they helped me overcome those awkward Jr High days.  Once I got boobs, people (and perhaps myself) forgot about the scrawny girl with big, thick glasses who lacked confidence.  I suddenly became the popular girl who could fill out the cheerleading uniform and prom dress.  They've helped me get out of a ticket or two.  They probably helped me pass a class or two.  I know they have gotten me more than my fair share of free drinks at the bar.  And I'm pretty sure they helped me catch an amazing husband (of course he loves me for more than my ta-ta's, but let's be honest ~ he noticed them!  Even though he's a gentleman, he's not blind).  Finally, they helped nourish my son, even though they didn't really want to cooperate.  Overall, they've been good to me.

It's a tough decision... My boobs are nearly the same (with the exception of that pesky lump) as they were 3 months ago before I found out I had the BRCA mutation.  They were acceptable then (although, admittedly I wished they were a little perkier), and now I look at them and I'm paranoid.  I feel like I've got a hit out on my health.  It may not be an immediate threat, but I feel like at some point, BRCA could win out, and that is simply not a risk I'm willing to take.

Surgery is not the only option.  Many women with the BRCA mutation find vigilant surveillance an option.  This would include bi-yearly mammograms and MRI's.  Not a horrible option, but there is some concern about exposing women prone to cancer to additional radiation.  Having a hysterectomy, which I have done, also can help reduce the rate of breast cancer, specifically those that are estrogen fed.  This of course, comes with hormonal changes, which can actually fuel cancer.  And, while a hysterectomy can reduce the chance of getting some breast cancers, the reduced risk still remains well above the general population, hovering around 50-60% I think.

Also, something to consider is that the vast majority of breast cancer cases are treatable.  If caught early, survival rates of breast cancer hover over 90%.  Y'all, those are great odds!  The big question is: Do you wait until you get cancer and then treat it?  Or to you take preventative action now?  It's a tough decision ~ and there are no right answers.  For me, I would much rather do this on MY terms, not wait around for cancer to dictate what needs to happen.  Everyday, I read posts from cancer survivors who wish they would have known their risk prior to getting cancer.

Another way to put it, there is a 60-87% chance your brakes will give out in your car, do you drive home?  Or do you ditch the car that has all the warning lights going off and trade it in for a different car?  Yes, the trade in process is tough, and painful.  But that inconvenience is way less severe than an accident (cancer).  You following me, Dawg?

Bottom line: It's a personal decision.  It's a difficult decision.  I pray about it often.

I'm reminded of a cartoon where a man is standing on top of his house in a flood.  Several options present themselves to rescue him, but he turns those options away saying he is waiting for God to rescue him.  The flood finally gets to him and he drowns.  He is in Heaven asking "God, why didn't you save me?"  God replies "I sent a raft, a boat and a helicopter, what else did you need?"  I've said before this is a gift.  I'm thankful for the warning.

#BLESSED

God Winks

Today started out a little rough.  Let's just say too much coffee, forgetting my estrogen pill this morning and too much anxiety makes for a bit of a rough morning.  Not horrible, just feeling a bit 'off.'

But, then I went on a walk (my first 'purposeful' exercise since my hysterectomy two weeks ago) with a trusted friend who shared about some of her daughter's medical procedures.  And, I ran into another friend who has to take her son to an inpatient hospital procedure tomorrow.  It was a good reminder, no matter how anxious I feel, my anxiety would be 100 times worse if it were Mase going through health struggles.  Prayers for these strong mamas!  No matter how tough this journey gets, it's always a blessing to remember my kiddo is healthy!  I got this!  God's got this!

I also had a nice conversation with my mom today.  There are so many decisions to make; so many doubts to ponder.  I came to the conclusion, that no matter what happens, everything has a way of working out.  Maybe I go through these surgeries and I would have been in the lucky pool and have never gotten cancer...  It will still work out.  Or, maybe I don't go through the mastectomy and I will later develop cancer... It will still work out.  Things always have a way of working out.

During my fit of anxious energy this morning, I decided to look for a study pillow.  I've seen several ladies on a prophylactic mastectomy website comment how helpful they were during recovery.  So, off I went to Bed Bath and Beyond.  I was so relieved when I found one.  On clearance!  It didn't dawn on me until I got home, but the only color on clearance was teal.  Teal is one of the colors for the BRCA awareness ribbon.  I've mentioned it before, but my mom calls these types of things God Winks.  Some people call them coincidences, but we believe that the universe is too big for coincidences...  I like to believe this is God's way of showing himself.  Some may see this as hokey/cheesy/corny WHATEVER!  I see it as a gentle sign that He is with me on this journey.  I'll take it!  Along with my $11 teal study pillow.  Oh... and it just happens to be National Hereditary Breast & Ovarian Cancer Week.

And now I'm crying.  But they are happy tears...  Stupid hormones.  

"Does this Mastectomy Make My Butt Look Big?"

I'm happy to report that with the exception of my hormonal hiccup on Wednesday, I continue to feel great after my hysterectomy.  I've started driving and can carry on throughout my day pretty much like normal, with the exception of lifting anything heavy (like a laundry basket, vacuum or adorable 4 year old).

The other day while Mase was at preschool, I decided to do a bit of retail therapy and get prepared for my mastectomy in a couple of weeks.  I've read that I'll need front closure bras and button down shirts.  Also, I've discovered the luxury of having nice pajamas.  Life is too short to piece pajamas together from old t-shirts and cheerleading shorts leftover from high school (that was 18 years ago!).  Goodness, those cheerleading shorts fit a little tighter now than they used to!

So... off I went.  A few thoughts I had on my shopping trip:

1. Every time I see a plaid button down shirt, I think Paul Bunyan.  This is going to be more difficult than I thought.  It seems like every button down shirt is plaid.  Lumberjack plaid.
2. I did manage to buy 3 sports bras that fasten in the front.  I tried them on and they all made me look like a pre-pubescent 12 year old.  I looked at myself and after my disgust, I told myself I had better get used to looking like a 12 year old.  Oy!  I got boobs the summer before my sophomore year of high school.  It was like BAM! I woke up and there they were!  And now, in just a few weeks BAM! they are gone.  That's going to take some getting used to.
3. I wonder if having no boobs will make my butt look big.  Do they make "Does this mastectomy make my butt look big" t-shirts?  If so, I'll take a large (damn it!) small/medium.   
4. Adorable, super soft pajama pants for $10 at Marshall's?  Yes, please!

(I just checked Pinterest and they do make a "Does this mastectomy make my butt look big" t-shirt.  Darn!  There goes that million dollar idea.)

Yikes! **It's Getting Real!

The good news, I've been keeping extremely busy lately.  Between work, planning Mason's birthday party and getting things cleaned and organized before surgery on Wednesday, I haven't even had time to think about my hysterectomy.  Okay, that was a lie.  I have thought about it, but for the most part, I've done really well on not dwelling on it.

Today, was actually another busy day, as we went to Springfield to meet with another surgeon, this one a breast surgeon who will be performing the mastectomy.  The appointment couldn't have come at a better time, because just a few days ago, I found a pretty big lump in my breast.  I had a mammogram about 2 weeks ago and all came back clear, so I wasn't sure what this was all about.  It started about a week ago and I discovered it around 3:30 am.  I quickly woke Richard up and asked him to feel my breast and quickly added that it wasn't *that kind of wake up call*.  Honestly, I felt like I was going crazy and just needed a quick confirmation that it wasn't all in my head.  Sure enough, he felt it too... And, we aren't talking about a tiny grain of rice here, this thing is probably a good centimeter or bigger!  Anyway, I pushed through with the week and Mase's birthday party since I knew I had an appointment with a breast surgeon anyway.  Yes, I thought about the lump, but again I didn't obsess over it...  Which again, is BIG progress for my bat-shit crazy myself.

Quick story:  As we are walking into my appointment, I start getting a bit anxious.  Richard must have read it on my face.  He didn't say anything, but he took out his phone, turned on some Eminen and told me to get some swagger in my step.  I tried to walk with swagger, but failed miserably.  He grabbed my hand and we both had a good laugh as we walked into the office.  All those old people must have thought we were crazy!  I love him so darn much it hurts!

Today's appointment was with Dr. Buchner (DBB) and we went over the mastectomy options and he gave me an exam.  He, too, could feel the lump, but wasn't overly concerned since I just had a clean mammogram and was going to be getting rid of all my breast tissue soon anyway.  Otherwise, he said it was something they would probably biopsy and possibly remove just to be safe.  Hey, I love a deal, so this is sort of like a two-fer ~ I get to get rid of all the breast tissue that could potentially kill me and this silly lump, that occasionally hurts.

So, after the exam and a few questions from the hubs and myself, DBB suggested a surgery date.  What the %&*#?  The suggestion that we should schedule the surgery soon hit me like a ton of bricks.  Once again, things were getting real REAL fast.  Of course, I have the option to wait, but he encouraged me to not wait too long, as messing with your hormones and taking replacement hormones isn't really a great option for mutated special awesome women like myself who are likely prone to develop breast cancer anyway.  So, if it needs to happen soon anyway, we might as well schedule it this calendar year since I'm going to max out my insurance anyway, right (again, always looking for a great deal!)?

Chilling as I wait for Dr. Buchner.
I don't even get nervous anymore.  This is probably where my brother-in-law Jack and Richard cracks a joke about all the practice I've had taking my top off in my 'hay day.'  Just remember Richard, those jokes hurt you a lot more than they hurt me.  

So, hysterectomy is scheduled in just a few days and the double mastectomy is scheduled mid-October.  Hey, my boobs can dress up as Frankenstein for Halloween.  Very old, saggy Frankensteins.    Speaking of freaky, DBB did warn me that I will likely be shocked when I wake from surgery.  He said I will likely have about 1/3 the breast size I do now and they will not really resemble anything like they are now (and, not to brag, but I have pretty spectacular breasts now ~ although not quite as spectacular as they were pre-Mason or in my twenties...).

Come to think of it, my breasts will be going out of this world the same way they came into this world... Fast.  I guess I'll save that experience for a future post.

Anyway, while all these surgeries and recovery times get me a bit anxious, it feels really good to 'check the boxes'.  It feels productive, which sure beats the hell out of the waiting game!

An Update

An update on my Gill:  Jill is two weeks out from the bomb squad taking care of business (her hysterectomy).  She is doing remarkably well!  She has started driving again and is able to take care of some light house duties.  Physically, the recovery has been easier than expected.  I won't say it's been easy by any means, but she's capable of doing a lot more than she thought she would be (and most definitely doing more than she probably should be).  Physically, the first week was rough, but the second week has been a turning point.  I don't think she was prepared for the emotional toll the hysterectomy would take on her.  She said the first week was horrendous, but seems to be leveling out the second week.  That Gill is such a trooper!  Seriously, she's my hero!

An update on me:  Yesterday I received my mammogram results and everything appeared to be normal!  Hallelujah!  I know that there are a lot of women who would give anything for an unremarkable finding.

Today, I met with a highly recommended plastic surgeon to find out my reconstruction options.  I visited Dr. Carl Price in Springfield, MO.  His office staff was extremely friendly and made me feel very comfortable.  Dr. Price was sincere, attentive, personable and gave me a very realistic picture of the best route of reconstruction (even though it really wasn't exactly what I was hoping for).  Dr. Price also gave me the name of a breast surgeon who could handle the mastectomy; I will be meeting with him in a week to discuss the ins and outs of the mastectomy procedure.  I'm anxious.  But, really glad to be gathering all the information possible now, so that when I'm ready to press forward, I have the information to do so.

I've done quite a bit of research online, but this was my first time to visit with an actual person about the reconstruction process.  I was hoping I was a candidate for an immediate reconstruction (often called a direct to implant reconstruction).  Dr. Price said he would do either procedure, but preferred to do a stage reconstruction with tissue expanders.  The stage reconstruction lasts between 3-5 months (Yikes!) but he said he gets better results with that procedure and there are fewer complications and risks.  Once I was finished with Dr. Price, a nurse led me to a room where they took some 'before' pictures.  Goodness, that was an experience!  I had never been topless in front of a camera before I SWEAR!  So, that was a first, and once my 'after' pictures, that will most certainly be the last :).

Overall, my spirits are good.  I've been keeping very busy with work and planning Mason's birthday party and when you are neurotic like me, staying busy is your friend!  I do get scared when I think about the hysterectomy, so I just try not to think about it (if only it was that easy!).

One of my biggest stresses was how I would get my nose piercing out before my surgery.  Yes, I'm getting ready to have a couple of major surgeries and I am worried about a little nose stud in my nose.  My sister candidly told me "Julie, anyone going through menopause probably shouldn't have a nose piercing."  Touche Gill!  So, out came my nose piercing.  There is so much stuff I cannot control, so after about 3 hours of worrying about this (I told you I was crazy!) I just decided to take it out and be done with it.  I miss it, but I'm not stressing anymore about it, so that's worth something.

Follow-Up Appointment

I must say, I've held up really well this past week.  I STILL haven't broken down about the news that I'm BRCA positive, and maybe I'm realizing it's nothing to break down about.  As Mom always says, "It is what it is... and will be what you make of it."  So, it is what it is.

On Thursday, I had a follow-up with DHL.  Have I mentioned how amazing he and his staff are?!  So, I was feeling all strong and all while Richard and I were waiting in the waiting area, but did get nervous after we had been called back to the exam room.  But, let's be honest, seeing that little table with the paper on it probably tends to make anyone a little nervous.  After a bit, Jessica-nurse-extraordinaire came in to check on us and gave me a folder with lots of BRCA+ statistics.  Then, a few minutes later, DHL came in.  He sat down, and could probably see the look of fear on my face, as the first question he asked was "Julie, how do you feel about being here today?"  My voice trembled and said I felt okay, but I was a little scared.  Richard reached over and grabbed my hand to comfort me, and I felt much better.

In his calming, soothing, confident way, DHL went over the numbers.

• Up to a 50% chance of breast cancer by 50, and 87% chance of breast cancer by age 70 (normal rates are around the 10-12% range)
• Up to 60% chance of ovarian cancer by age 70 (normal rates are .8-2%)

While I knew these stats, hearing him say them were sobering and scary.  We discussed options, which again I knew, but still scary to hear him say them.  The best chance for reducing cancer risk were a hysterectomy and double mastectomy.  

Now, I know some people reading this, might think it's a bit radical to follow through with these recommendations.  And, that's okay.  A post about what to say and not to say to someone BRCA+ soon to follow.  The thing is, my mother was 8 years old when her mother died of ovarian cancer.  Her mom was sick for years prior to that.  Ovarian cancer robbed my mom of her mom (granted she did gain my Grandma Canote as her fairy step-mother ~ she was an amazing lady).  My sister and I have determined we will not let that happen to our kids...  And, thanks to modern medicine, we don't have to take that risk.

Once we talked about my results, Richard left and DHL did a quick exam to make sure things were as they should be and that a laparoscopic hysterectomy would be appropriate.  Typically, he's quite gentle, although this time he seemed to be a little more aggressive thorough.  Of course, I might have been a little more scared/tense this time around too.  He said everything appeared to be normal, so yay for that!

We discussed a few dates for the hysterectomy, but nothing is set in stone yet.  I'll keep you posted.  Just know that in the next few weeks and months if I am a raging bitch a bit sensitive, then there is actually a medical reason for it.  Wondering how long I can use the "it's a medical condition" for an excuse...

After leaving DHL's office, we had to go to the lab for a quick blood test.  I believe it is called a CA-125 and is supposed to indicate risk for ovarian cancer.  DHL warned us this test isn't very accurate at all, but it was the best they had.  That's the scary thing about ovarian cancer, it isn't easily detectable and by the time it is detectable, it is often in the late stages.  I'm not overly concerned with these results, although perhaps I should be.

Update on Jill:  She is going in next week for her hysterectomy.  It will likely only require one night in the hospital and she should be back to mostly normal activities (no heavy lifting) in nearly a week. Just like most things in life, Jill is taking the plunge first, so she can fill me in on all the details.  She's always been the rebel out of two of us.