40 Days and Counting: My Journey to Prevent Ovarian Cancer

My public journey into surgery was inspired by a courageous young woman I've never met. I read about her, like so many of us did, in the New York Times.

Deborah Lindner tested positive, like I have, for BRCA1, and decided to undergo a mastectomy to head off cancer before it had a chance to take hold. But in the process of ridding her body of breasts, she did so much more. By choosing to share her journey with strangers, she empowered countless women who are facing similar life and death choices. Including me.

On November 28th, I'm getting my ovaries removed and will also be undergoing a complete hysterectomy. My mom died of ovarian cancer and I will do anything - including elective surgery - not to go down that same, horrific path.

31-year-old actress Kris Carr also convinced me that announcing my upcoming operation to the world was a good idea. I've never met her either, but boy, would I love to. I'd like to thank her.

Kris is responsible for something I recently saw on TV. Actually, I didn't just see it, I was glued to it. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. The message was that important.

The show was on the Learning Channel and it was a documentary called, Crazy Sexy Cancer.

Crazy Sexy Cancer is about Kris' battle with a rare cancer that also happens to be incurable. She made the decision to use her creativity as an actress to serve a higher purpose. Kris chose - after that diagnosis -- to take her tragic situation and turn it into something else. Something better. Kris started filming her pursuit for experimental medicines and holistic, non-Western cures.

She not only turned her story into Crazy Sexy Cancer but she's also written a book, writes a blog and continues to inspire men and women living with cancer around the globe to live beyond their diseases, too.

My surgery is now 40 days away. It's coming. And every day I am at once scared and relieved. I am lucky to have the chance to control what seems so out of my control. But I'm also terrified of what surgical menopause will mean to my body and mood. I'm scared that I'll be a different mom to my children. But, I'm even more frightened not to have the operation. I'm afraid of not being around to be moody in the first place.

By talking about my surgery to anyone who will listen, and by writing about it in this blog, I feel emboldened. And, perhaps by sharing my journey I can help you, like Deborah and Kris have helped me. There's power in letting people know they're not alone.

Comments

[marysandra]

Allison,
Your story is so familiar to me..I too,lost my mother to ovarian cancer,it is a terrible way to leave this world,for the patient and the family.It is such a sadistic disease,on her last day her heart was perfect, blood pressure and cholesterol,perfect too. Which only points to the fact that we sometimes lose sight of the bigger picture.Oh and her mind was sharp as ever.Everyone in her family lived to a very old age.She was the youngest of 7 and only the second to die. None of her 4 sisters ever had any type of cancer, nor her mother. So I applaud you for what you are doing. It will give you peace of mind and many more years with your family than your mom might have had.I had a hysterectomy in my early 40's,{they left one ovary for "hormones",stupid me.}I had hrt for years, but the path for women is never smooth it seems.Now in my 60's, I am plagued with hot flashes, and have gone to bio identical hormone replacement. Even at this age, I still contemplate getting that last ovary out.So I support you 100% as would anyone who has lost a loved one to this horrible disease.You are brave and smart.Your mother would no doubt support you in this decision.
All the best to you.

[Tee]

I had an oophorectomy at 41. Didn't go so well for me. My menstrual migraines increased to 15 days a month, and I feel unwell most of the time. I'm 44 now.

I'd take the painful endometriosis back, and I'd take the ovca risk (maternal aunt died of it, maternal grandmother of breast cancer) to have my life back. Now, it's non-existent.

In other words, in hindsight, I would never do what you're doing.

[Halsey]

I had my ovaries removed 5 years ago...an ultra sound showed them to be extremely mottled and disturbing..I was in the operating room within a couple of days..fortunately, I did NOT have to have a hysterectomy...and was back at work in 3 days..as it was done laproscopically. The interesting part was..yes, again..no cancern..just horrid ovaries..but..my appendix was on the verge of exploding..so they took that out while they were in there!... I wish you a speedy recovery..and kudos on your public journey..(have them check out your appendix!)..

[kellygrrrl]

Good Luck, Allison.

Looking forward to reading more about the journey.

thanks for sharing

[RHR]

Allison:
good luck with your surgery. You are making a difficult decision with great dignity.

I also saw "Crazy Sexy Cancer" and thought it was positively brilliant.

My thoughts are with you.

[JRamsey]

Dear Allison: Your post brings back many memories for me. I had a complete hysterectomy at age 29, some 21 years ago. Take heart -- at least for me these years have not been filled with any huge problems, physically or emotionally. Actually I stopped worrying about the chances of ovarian and uterine cancers, of possible endometriosis, of periods everlasting (my family is notorious for having cycles FOREVER - well into their 50s) After years of various types of hormone replacement therapy I finally, about 8-10 years ago, just stopped all that business. I did worry about bone density, libido, etc., but it seems I'm on the same aging path as other women my age. About 7 years ago I had a bone density test (wondering if all those years w/o parts had wielded some damage to my heavy-boned strong-frau body, but was told, "whatever you're doing, keep doing it." I've often wished I could have had someone study me for all these years to use as a test model for women like you -- facing these health issues now. Make sure you check out ALL your options when it comes to HRT, I wish I had been more involved in that decision-making process, but was young and just did whatever that person with the big degree on their wall told me. Good luck to you with your surgery and your future w/o parts -- you'll still be a woman -- it's mostly in our heads -- figuratively and literally.