The surgeon and I talked for a long time.
He looked carefully through the surgical notes from my previous breast surgery and at the films from my most recent mammogram. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back in his chair and peered at me over the top of his bifocals.
Firmly, but with compassion, he said: "Your breasts have to come off."
He saw the tears welling up in my eyes, tears that surprised me because after talking with a genetic counselor and five other doctors, I knew this would be his verdict.
He leaned forward, took my hands in his and said: "When is the best time to remove your breasts? The day before you get breast cancer. We know you will develop breast cancer, but since we don't know exactly when that will happen, we need to take them off now."
I found out in July that I carry both the BRCA 1 and 2 gene mutations. My mother has the BRCA 1 mutation and is a 13-year breast cancer survivor. I pray daily that when my daughter's results come in, they will be negative. I had my ovaries removed three weeks ago, but I'm having a hard time with the decision to remove my breasts.
And so, like thousands of women today, I'm offered a choice: alternate mammograms and MRI's every six months or undergo an elective mastectomy, which would reduce my risk of developing breast cancer from its current 85% before I turn 60 (in a mere six years) down to about 5%.
Me, my mother, and my daughter together in 2008.
Somehow, I had the impression that an elective mastectomy was different, less invasive than one performed when cancer is present. I convinced myself that the surgery would be more like the cosmetic breast reduction I had four years ago.
I do plan to talk with other surgeons, but the picture this doctor painted for me included drainage tubes and extenders, multiple procedures over an 8-12 week timeframe, and nipple reconstruction or tattooing. The conversation and pictures he showed me -- and what I interpreted as his opinion that reconstruction should be a low-priority concern -- was not what I had anticipated.
Given the odds, I will probably have the mastectomy within the next six months. But I don't want to do it and here's why:
- I'm scared. And I feel so guilty for feeling scared because I know dozens of women -- including my mother -- who have survived breast cancer thanks to a mastectomy, radiation and/or chemotherapy. I see them now... cancer-free, strong and proud, grateful and resilient... and feel like a jerk that I'm even questioning the gift of having an option they didn't have. And then I think of the beautiful women I know who lost their war with breast or ovarian cancer, women who would have given anything to have the choice I have and wonder... what the hell is the matter with me?
I'm frustrated that there aren't better options for reconstruction and I'm angry that we don't have a cure yet. If big pharma can come up with drugs that give men erections for up to four hours, why can't they do better for women? Our mothers, daughters and sisters are battling cancer in record numbers, but the scientific community can't seem to keep up... or maybe issues like erectile dysfunction are higher on the priority list. People around the world are donating money, running in races, wearing pink ribbons, lighting luminaries and advocating for women's health issues. The scientific and medical community should lead us in this fight and step up their game... or at the least, come up with better options than what we have now. I'm worried about what my husband will think of me. Which is silly, because we've been married for nearly 30 years and I know he wants me around for at least another 30. Whether my husband will still find me attractive should be the last thing on my mind. I should feel empowered to have information that could save my life and yet... I'm hung up by vanity and pride. Alan says he wants me to have the surgery... but he wasn't with me at the surgeon's office. What if he feels differently when he's fully informed? My breasts are an integral part of my sexuality and my identity as a woman. The thought of losing them is sad because it means that an important chapter of my life is being closed forever. When my breasts first developed, they told me I was becoming a woman. For about 30 years, they reliably signaled each month that it was time for my period. Before I had any other symptoms, my breasts told me that I was pregnant. My breasts nourished my babies. I'm not a beautiful or sexy woman, but my breasts make me feel feminine and attractive. They have done their job well all of my life and I will miss having them... and then here come those guilty feelings again. Every woman who has a mastectomy probably feels this same way... but they also have to cope with life-threatening cancer at the same time.I tell myself to get a grip because I'm acting like a wuss. I remind myself of what my students who are medically fragile have to endure on a daily basis and realize I'm being selfish.
I think of all the women who didn't have this heads-up that disaster was looming just around the corner and I know I'm a fool for hesitating for even one second.
I don't like to gamble and yet, that's exactly what I'm considering. I'm thinking of rolling the dice and hoping I get lucky... and don't develop breast cancer. If I'm right, the prize is that I get to keep my breasts and if I'm wrong... well, I lose everything. If I wait until I get breast cancer, there won't be any choices... only toxic drugs and radiation and desperate attempts to save my life.
How can I be trying to come up with reasons why it would be OK to keep my breasts instead?
So, today, I'm going to let myself cry, because I'm scared and ashamed of myself.
I'm will cry because even though I thought I knew what women with breast cancer have to endure, I didn't have a clue.
I'm will cry because I am in awe of their bravery and resilience.
I'm will cry because I'm afraid I'm not woman enough to do what they have done.
Today I will cry because I don't want this gene to be a fault that I unknowingly handed down to my children.
Tomorrow, I will give thanks for this chance to control my own fate. Tomorrow, I will ask my friends who have gone through this for their advice. Tomorrow, I will begin the search for other surgeons who might offer better options. And tomorrow, I will remind myself that I am not defined by my physical appearance or my breasts and that nothing an take away or diminish my womanhood.
If you are considering or have already had an elective mastectomy and are comfortable talking about it, please comment below. Your experiences, your advice and your input could help me and the thousands of women who read this blog.
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
It's Another Trump-Biden Showdown — And We Need Your Help
The Future Of Democracy Is At Stake
Our 2024 Coverage Needs You
Your Loyalty Means The World To Us
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
The 2024 election is heating up, and women's rights, health care, voting rights, and the very future of democracy are all at stake. Donald Trump will face Joe Biden in the most consequential vote of our time. And HuffPost will be there, covering every twist and turn. America's future hangs in the balance. Would you consider contributing to support our journalism and keep it free for all during this critical season?
HuffPost believes news should be accessible to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay for it. We rely on readers like you to help fund our work. Any contribution you can make — even as little as $2 — goes directly toward supporting the impactful journalism that we will continue to produce this year. Thank you for being part of our story.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
It's official: Donald Trump will face Joe Biden this fall in the presidential election. As we face the most consequential presidential election of our time, HuffPost is committed to bringing you up-to-date, accurate news about the 2024 race. While other outlets have retreated behind paywalls, you can trust our news will stay free.
But we can't do it without your help. Reader funding is one of the key ways we support our newsroom. Would you consider making a donation to help fund our news during this critical time? Your contributions are vital to supporting a free press.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our journalism free and accessible to all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
As Americans head to the polls in 2024, the very future of our country is at stake. At HuffPost, we believe that a free press is critical to creating well-informed voters. That's why our journalism is free for everyone, even though other newsrooms retreat behind expensive paywalls.
Our journalists will continue to cover the twists and turns during this historic presidential election. With your help, we'll bring you hard-hitting investigations, well-researched analysis and timely takes you can't find elsewhere. Reporting in this current political climate is a responsibility we do not take lightly, and we thank you for your support.
Contribute as little as $2 to keep our news free for all.
Can't afford to donate? Support HuffPost by creating a free account and log in while you read.
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. Would you consider becoming a regular HuffPost contributor?
Dear HuffPost Reader
Thank you for your past contribution to HuffPost. We are sincerely grateful for readers like you who help us ensure that we can keep our journalism free for everyone.
The stakes are high this year, and our 2024 coverage could use continued support. If circumstances have changed since you last contributed, we hope you'll consider contributing to HuffPost once more.
Support HuffPostAlready contributed? Log in to hide these messages.