One Long Week

It's done.  I had a mastectomy.  Yay??  It's actually been a week now, but I've felt like crap so I haven't really cared about writing.  I had surgery on Friday and stayed in the hospital overnight before coming home early Saturday afternoon.  Saturday and Sunday were VERY long days.  The pain medication they gave me made me sick so I spent most of those days with a bucket in my lap.  I was miserable.  After a while I gave up on the pain pills and just stuck to Tylenol.  That made a huge difference.  Since then, it has just been the slow process of recovery.  I got the first two drains taken out on Tuesday and the rest taken out Thursday.  That has made a huge difference in terms of my comfort level.  Having tubes tugging at your skin and trying to tuck in bottles so they don't fall and accidentally pull out the tubes is not a comfortable process.  I'm still sore and don't feel   like I'll be doing any cartwheels anytime soon, but at least I can shower and go about my life a little more freely now.

How?

I'm sure many of you are curious about what will happen during surgery.  How will the mastectomy be performed?  What is the reconstruction process?  What are the long-term consequences?

I'm going to be very blunt, so some of you might be a bit uncomfortable.  You don't have to read, but you will understand more if you do.  Besides, it really isn't that bad.

The basic gist is that I'm getting a bilateral mastectomy and a two-part reconstruction.  To remove the breast tissue, the surgeon will cut a one or two inch line on either side of the areola and cut around the areola as well.  The skin will be peeled back from those incisions and the surgeon will remove as much tissue as possible while saving the nipple.

After the first surgeon is finished, the plastic surgeon steps in for the reconstruction.  A set of expanders is placed behind the muscles of my chest.  They will also place a port on each side.  Then they sew me up and send me to recovery.  That isn't the end though.  The whole reconstruction process takes about six months.  When I have fully recovered from the initial surgery, I will go back to the plastic surgeon.  Over a series of three to five visits, he will use the ports to inject saline into the expanders.  This expands the muscles over a period of time so that they can handle the actual implants.  When the expanders are the size I want them, I will go in for another, smaller surgery.  The surgeon will remove the ports and replace the expanders with implants. 

So, by the end, hopefully I'll have beautiful new boobs and some cleavage.  Over time, I will have to undergo some additional surgeries to adjust or fix any problems that the implants might develop over the years.  Eventually, when I get older, I will probably get a transflap.  The surgeon will remove the implants and remove tissue from another part of my body (my stomach, butt, thighs, or some other fatty region).  The tissue will be reshaped into a new breast.  We'll see...

Two More Days

So, things last year did not work out quite like I'd planned.  I got back from India and after discussing it with my parents, we decided that it would be better if I waited another year to have the mastectomy.  I just graduated from college and have not started working yet, so it is a good time to take some time off to recover.  In two days, I will go in to get my mastectomy.  People keep asking how I feel about it, but--at this moment--I don't really feel anything.  Some moments I feel ready, others I feel terrified.  Most of the time though, I just feel sort of numb.  I imagine I'm not letting myself feel everything in order to protect myself.  If I let all the fear and sadness in, I don't know if I could go through with the surgery.  I'm terrified of waking up, looking down, and seeing that there is nothing there.  I don't want to look in the mirror and see the drains and the stitches.  My boobs have never been my favorite body part, but they are mine.  I'm losing a part of myself.  I feel like I'm losing what--according to biology and society--makes me a woman.  I know this is the right decision, but it is not a decision that I want to make.  It is not a decision that anyone should have to make.  

Beginnings

My name is Erika and I am 21 years old. In three months, I will be getting a bilateral, prophylactic mastectomy. I have the BRCA 1 gene, which gives me a genetic predisposition towards breast cancer and ovarian cancer. There is a chance that I will live my life and never get breast or ovarian cancer. However, the chance of that happening--or not happening--is very, very slim. So, you're 20 years old, and you just found out that you have to spend your entire life being poked and prodded in hopes that when cancer does finally strike, it won't be too late. What do you do? Me, I'm taking control of my life. I can't spend my life crossing my fingers and waiting. It isn't me. I don't want cancer to be part of my future, so I will do whatever it takes to protect myself. I am choosing the mastectomy, I'm sacrificing second base. It is an extreme decision that isn't for everyone. Even if it is your choice, it is a crappy choice to have to make. But I know that it is the right decision for me. This blog is to show the world my journey so that other young women in my position can have a resource to turn to so they can better comprehend the choice that they have to make.