TOMORROW!

Like many, I first heard about the BRCA “Breast Cancer gene” when Angelina Jolie used the New York Times to announce her decision to have a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy after she was genetically identified as a carrier of the BRCA gene mutation. She told the world that she’d had her own breasts removed because they were ticking time bombs for breast cancer. 

So maybe some of the world mourned Angie’s boobs for a minute, but this was the right choice for her. And man, did you see her in Maleficent a couple years later? Her plastic surgeon got it right!!!! 

But I digress. 

Angie’s announcement started a world-wide conversation about genetic testing. 

How much knowledge is TOO much knowledge?

Are we playing God with all of this?

And what would you do?

But more importantly, women around the world became empowered with the knowledge that they have options! We can have genetic testing and make informed choices about our bodies to reduce our risk of getting some types of cancer. 

Then it got personal. When breast cancer crashed into our lives for the second time, my mom’s physician recommended genetic testing. Mom tested positive for the BRCA mutation, and then I tested positive as well. Without hesitation, I took the radical route and chose the prophylactic mastectomy. The adventures (and misadventures) of that journey haven been chronicled in this blog.

Not everyone who tests positive for the BRCA mutations opts for the radical surgical options. A BRCA positive diagnosis can still be empowering without surgery because it allows for insurances to cover more frequent mammograms and additional cancer screenings. Early diagnosis is key to surviving breast cancer!

The lesser-known risk that comes with a BRCA mutation is an elevated chance of getting ovarian cancer. The average woman has about a 2% chance of getting ovarian cancer in her life. Someone with a BRCA mutation has something more along the lines of a 40-60% lifetime chance of getting ovarian cancer! And ovarian cancer is ugly and hard to treat. Early detection drastically increases the survival rate, but ovarian cancer is often detected late, at a point when successful treatment options are limited. 

The answer? Take out the ovaries, too! That’s the procedure I will have tomorrow. I am opting for a slightly lesser invasive surgery than originally planned. We’re only removing some of the lady-plumbing, but it will get rid of the hormone-generating cancer-makers that the ovaries can be. 

As a part of the procedure, I am also having some other annoying growths removed that have been wreaking havoc on my system. They have been biopsied and are benign, but will thankfully be evicted along with the ovaries. 

I am not worried about the procedure. It’s outpatient, it’s laparoscopic. It will be fine. I’ll be down for just a couple weeks. I am also not worried about losing my eggs, and thus the ability to have any more biological babies. That ship has SAILED and I am very content with the children I have in my life already. 

I am, however, TERRIFIED of the symptoms that will come after the surgery, the symptoms that come along with surgical menopause. Normally, a woman’s estrogen tapers off gradually. Removing the ovaries removes the estrogen COLD TURKEY! 

BRCA-informed doctors have mixed opinions about oral estrogen and other hormone replacement therapies. Why put estrogen back in your system when the goal of surgery was to remove the cancer-causing organs and the hormones they produce? We're going to try and figure out what makes the most sense for me.

Without ovaries and their estrogen, it’s an instant trip to old-ladyville. Hot flashes and mood swings are nearly guaranteed, as well as other other unpleasant things like loss of libido and depression. 

YAAAAAAAASSSSSS! Par-tay time! 

(In case you missed it, that was me trying to pretend to be excited about all of this.) 

Snark aside, I am so incredibly thankful that I can face my elevated risk of cancer empowered. I am grateful to have informed, forward-thinking doctors who support and educate me on this journey. I have so much gratitude! I know that while my family will have to take care of me now for a couple weeks, (and then deal with my mood swings for a few months after!) they WON’T have to care for me through chemo and radiation and all of the scariness that comes with breast and ovarian cancer. 

Tomorrow morning, 11AM. Please send positive juju in whatever form you believe in sharing it. Low-sugar desserts and Netflix recommendations will also be greatly appreciated ;) 

Do you know your risk of hereditary cancer? The community and information at FORCE, www.facingourrisk.org, has been an incredible resource! Please don’t hesitate to chat me up if you would like more information. 

Plan? Plan? Who's got a plan?

It’s been over four years since I first started this blog to document my BRCA journey. Updates have become few and far between, mostly because there hasn’t been a ton to share. 

I spent the first two-thirds of 2018 looking forward to December, when I would be able to finally get these ridiculous, awful fake boobs OFF of my chest. 

I am SO TIRED of shirts being tight, and tired of buttons popping open. Any time I wear something with even a slight scoop neck or v-neck, I am paranoid about showing cleavage and looking inappropriate. And it’s not just a physical/superficial/appearance issue. Because of the weight of the implants, I don’t sleep well if I don’t have a mountain of pillows to prop me up. My shoulders always hurt.

I didn’t want implants this big. And I have said numerous time that if it came down to keeping THESE boobs, or going back to the post-mastectomy flat chest of nothing, I’d choose flat in a heartbeat.

I had a consultation with the plastic surgeon in September, and unfortunately it was determined that I won’t be having reconstruction this year, either. Complications, shifting priorities, advice and pressure from multiple doctors, questionable growths with thankfully clean biopsies - it’s all helped determine that now is STILL not the time.

Carrying the BRCA gene mutation means an elevated risk of breast cancer, but it also means a high risk for ovarian cancer as well. My doctors would like me to have my ovaries removed before I have my boobs fixed. So instead of a breast reconstruction in December, I am scheduled to have a hysterectomy (removal of the uterus) and an oophorectomy (removal of the ovaries.)

These are fairly standard procedures with few risks, but it will involve some down time. It will also come with some unpleasant side effects. Most women receive hormone therapy after this surgery to help with the symptoms of surgical menopause, but because the cancer I am at most risk for is hormone induced, I won’t be able to take the hormones to help. What I have to look forward to:

- Mood swings
- Depression
- Night sweats
- Hot flashes
- Dryness. Everywhere.
- Loss of libido
- Forgetfulness 
- Fatigue


Wahoo!


It’s difficult to have a good attitude about any of this, but I'm trying.

I remain incredibly thankful to have the knowledge of my elevated risk for these types of cancer, and I am thankful for the preventative medical options I have. I don’t regret my decision to take action to significantly reduce my risk of having breast cancer.

I just really want it all to be over. 

Excuse me, but this isn't quite what I ordered...

So you know the adage, "If you don't have anything nice to say..."

That's where I have been for the past 9+ months since my reconstruction surgery. 

I started this blog to share my BRCA journey with others, to share the non-movie star version of choices related to hereditary breast and ovarian cancer.

I wrote in a previous post that despite hesitations, I finally opted to have breast reconstruction after 2 years of having nothing on my chest post-mastectomy, simply because I was tired of stuffing my bra to make shirts fit right. I wanted to be able to wear a bathing suit with confidence. I wanted to not have to explain my inverted chest to anyone. And while I had enjoyed the freedom of the flat chest (wahoooo for spaghetti straps!), I knew it was time to be put back together.

Unfortunately, it didn't turn out as planned. 

I asked for something small. For maybe some nice, full B-cups, and this is what I got:

Immediately after surgery, I knew it was too much. I read about healing and swelling and having patience, but I still just knew, B-cups, these were not! Two months later when I went to buy new bras, the cold hard truth was revealed: 36DDD.

I saw the surgeon to express my disappointment. She told me my options - I could have surgery again to pull the implants out immediately, and then wait 6-9 months to heal before trying again, OR keep them for 6-9 months, and have the entire reconstruction redone in one procedure. 

I opted to keep them, which has only reinforced my opinion that it's just too much. I know plenty of ladies pay $$$$ to have DDDs. People often use words like 'proportionate' to describe what was given to me, but I'm just not happy with them. Shirts are too tight and even simple V-neck or scoop neck tops end up looking sleazy because there is just SO. MUCH. TIT. 

In the end, it's my body and I have to be comfortable in it. And these things are so NOT comfortable. If I had to choose between keeping these DDDs and the post-mastectomy NOTHING, I'd rather go flat. 

Thankfully, I don't have to make that choice, and I get to have a re-do on the reconstruction. This time last year I was so excited about the potential of finally being DONE. The idea of more procedures doesn't excite me, but I am ready to try again.

Third try's the charm?

Tomorrow's the Big Day! (But hopefully not TOO big!)

One more sleep, less than 10 hours. Hoping this will be the last procedure.

I'm about to start talking about breast size. Check out now if you can't hang.

You've been warned...

While getting ready for the Fresno Jingle Run 5K on Saturday, an incident with a sports bra sent me into an absolute panic attack.

What if I wake up and the news ones are TOO BIG?

Those of you who have known me for 8-10 years remember when my boobs were bigger than a normal-sized person's head. I spent the majority of my adult life wanting a breast reduction.

Now, having a mastectomy wasn't quite what I had in mind, but that's how life happened and ultimately I certainly got my reduction! I went from having a DDD or H-Cup down to spending the past two years as a negative A-cup.

I was originally supposed to have reconstruction at the time of my mastectomy, but things didn't go quite right and I had to have the tissue expanders removed and halt the reconstruction process. Now two years later, it's finally time to get my new implants.

For tomorrow's procedure, the doctor said she wants to make me look natural, she wants the new breasts to fit the shape of my body and the space that was left after the mastectomy.

She's the expert and I trust her judgement, but in my last appointment she mentioned something about not quite filling a D cup, which took me aback, because I was thinking something along the lines of a nice, round little B. I've enjoyed these past two years of tank tops and spaghetti straps and gap-free button up shirts.

I don't want to have anything sizable on my chest, ever again!

I got to talk to her again today, and she offered me some reassurance, but I'm still a little worried. I had felt pressure, like this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get PERFECT boobs, and what if it doesn't go right?!?! Will I be stuck with big, floppy lumps that I hate??

I have to remember that they're just place holders - something to fill my shirt and make my clothes fit right. I wouldn't even be doing this if the mastectomy/first reconstruction attempt hadn't left me somewhat lopsided. Boobs aren't all that important to me, really. But since I'm doing it, I do want it done right.

I would really like to get this all over with. People have asked if I'm having nipples reconstructed or getting some tattooed on, but all of those things typically happen in later procedures. I don't want any more procedures. I really want to have this one last surgery and call it good.

There is one potential complication that could arise tomorrow. There is a chance that skin flaps that were left after the original attempt at reconstruction won't be large enough to hold the new implants. If that is the case, the doctor will have to place the tissue expanders in again and we'll have to wait while my skin stretches. This would unfortunately mean ANOTHER procedure in 3-4 months.

I've got an hour left before I can't eat or drink anything until surgery. I have to check in at 6AM. NO COFFEE TOMORROW MORNING?!?! That's just not fair. Please keep your fingers crossed for me. I really just want this done!

30 Days!

It's ALMOST TIME! Just thirty days until my reconstruction surgery. I was hesitant and nervous for a long time, but now I'm finally getting excited!

Those of you who follow me on Facebook might remember the story of Kansas running in the room, screaming about how Patten had broken her (cheap, Dollar Tree) Barbie Doll. She had pushed in the thin plastic of the doll's boobs, and Barbie suddenly had "innies" on her chest instead of "outies!" 

Kimberly made a bad joke and said, "Hey Susan! It looks just like YOU!" 

While it was harsh, and totally too soon, it was ABSOLUTELY TRUE! This is pretty much what I look like without a shirt!

BUT HEY EVERYBODY!!!! IN THIRTY DAYS I WILL HAVE BOOBS AGAIN!!!!

Uhhhhh.... thanks for that bit of TMI, right? When I first made the decision to be tested for the BRCA mutations that signify an elevated risk of breast cancer, I knew that I had to share my story out loud. 

Most people's knowledge of BRCA is through the story Angelina Jolie told quite publicly. And by telling her story, Angelina raised a ton of awareness about hereditary cancers. 

But I chose to tell my story because I'm NOT a movie star. I'm a mom, a teacher... just an every day girl going through the exact same thing. I decided to share because I wanted others to know that you don't have to be rich and famous to have some control of your body and your health.

According to the Komen foundation, in 2016 there will be an estimated 246,660 new cases of invasive breast cancer in women, and over 40,000 breast cancer related deaths. 

The average woman has about a 13% chance of getting breast cancer in her lifetime. Women with the BRCA gene mutation have up to an 87% chance of getting breast cancer! A simple blood test or mouth swab can empower women with powerful knowledge of these elevated health risks.

Men can also have BRCA mutations. Their risk of breast cancer increases from .1 percent to as much as 8 percent. 

When I found out that I carried a BRCA mutation, I chose to have a bilateral mastectomy. This choice reduced my risk of getting breast cancer from 87% to less than 1%.

Prophylactic surgery may not be the right choice for everyone. A BRCA positive diagnosis can still be empowering because it allows for insurances to cover more frequent mammograms and additional cancer screenings. Early diagnosis is key to surviving breast cancer. 

Both brightpink.org and facingourrisk.org have been tremendous resources for me as I've gone through this journey. Please check them out if you'd like to know more about hereditary breast and ovarian cancer. Also, please don't hesitate to message me if you have questions or would like to learn more about my own journey.  

On hesitations...

I went through an airport full body scanner earlier this week, and it flashed an alert on the screen because it appeared that I had something stuffed in my bra. 

Which I did. 

I whispered to the TSA lady, "I stuff my bra because I had a mastectomy and don't have any boobs!" She giggled a little and gave me a gentle pat down in the area that alerted, then sent me on my way. 

I met with the surgeon last month, and it looks like we're good to go for reconstruction in December. After two years of being boob-less, I am SO ready to stop stuffing my bra!

I do have hesitations. After the complications that happened with first attempt at reconstruction, there is a part of me that thinks I could be content with a life without boobs. 

I shared early on in this process that I never once hesitated in my decision to have the mastectomy. As soon as my mom found out that she carried the BRCA gene mutation, I knew that I wanted to be tested. And at that point I also knew what I would do if my own results came back positive. 

I never hesitated because Cancer is a beast. Giving up my boobs was certainly worth the peace of mind of knowing that breast cancer won't get me! 

I never hesitated because I knew I didn't want to go through the horrors of chemo and radiation. I am so thankful that Mom has made it through her multiple battles with cancer, but I have witnessed first hand how tough it is on a person's body and soul.

I never hesitated because I want to watch my babies become adults and share in their future! 

I never hesitated because I have so much in life I still want to accomplish, and that an 87% chance of getting breast cancer could interfere in those plans. 

But for reasons I don't quite understand, I am hesitant about getting these implants. Do I need even need them? They won't be real, they will never even begin to look real. Why do I feel like I have to do this? 

I am certainly looking forward to shirts and dresses that fit correctly. I am looking forward to not seeing these lopsided, inverted blobs of skin laying on my chest. I am looking forward to having real cleavage again. 

Less than four months. Here we go.

Do you know your risk of Hereditary Breast and Ovarian Cancer? Visit facingourrisk.org to learn more.

We interrupt this break in blogging... for a blog post.

I took a break from blogging because for the next 12-18 months, there won't be a ton to update. But for those who wonder: I am healing. 

There's no physical pain. I have two disfigured lumps of skin that lay on my chest like deflated balloons. They are saggy and lopsided. Patten calls them my 'broken boobies' and sometimes asks when the doctor is going to fix them.

Honestly, I don't know when revisiting reconstruction will be realistic. With a new baby, there's just no good time for me to have a 2 lb lift limit. 

In the meantime, most days I wear a padded strapless bra, mainly because the majority of my work wardrobe requires at least some small boobies in order to lay well. Sometimes I just wear a sports bra with a sock shoved into one side, mainly just to achieve some balance. At home, I usually go braless.

For the most part, it all doesn't phase me too much. Sometimes I look at what is left of my breasts and feel unsexy and unattractive, and like I need to cover them up. But I know in my heart that anyone who ever sees me undressed is someone who loves me, unconditionally, and I need to not worry.

A bright side? (You know, aside from the whole not-getting-cancer bit...) I was shopping at Target recently and reveled in my ability to pick out a sundress with spaghetti straps. Before the mastectomy, I always wore heavy duty bras with wide shoulder straps. Spaghetti straps were never a part of my reality. I may have ugly, disfigured boobies, but I CAN WEAR SPAGHETTI STRAPS!

None of this though, is what inspired me to write today. Rather, it was something I noticed in the bathroom this afternoon.

I was finishing up my business and pulling up my pants when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bathroom scale. 

I thought, "Where have you been?!!" But then I couldn't remember if the scale had actually ever left. 

I will admit that prior to six or so months ago, I had a very different relationship with that scale. It was a daily stop on my way to the shower. Not that the numbers fluctuated much, and not like I did much with the 'data' I collected each time I stepped on it, but it was routine; Every. Single. Day. Every day I looked down at the number and felt the pressure.

But I guess at some point, I stopped. I don't even know exactly when... maybe late last year? I don't know the last time I weighed myself. 

I wonder why the change? Part of me thinks it has to be tied to BRCA2 and the mastectomy. 

I took control of my body. I am in charge. Society can think what they want of me, but I will not be a slave to societal pressure on what a body 'should' look like. I am not 100% confident, but my priorities have certainly shifted. 

Amazing. Liberating.