The Procedure

The surgery I'm having on December 10th is a bilateral prophylactic mastectomy. I am in fact choosing to have this operation, but it has been highly recommended by my doctors and geneticist because I have the BRCA2 mutation that puts me at an extremely high (85-87%)  risk of getting breast cancer. For the procedure, a surgeon will remove both of my breasts, including my nipples. After the procedure, there will be one long incision scar across each side of my chest, similar to the single scar in the image below.

I have chosen to have breast reconstruction as well, and I'll actually begin that process as a part of the initial surgery. After the mastectomy, the doctor will insert barely-inflated tissue expanders that I will keep for several months. Every few weeks I will go in and have the expanders slightly enlarged through an injection of saline into a sub-dermal port in the expander. The purpose of this is to expand my remaining skin enough to eventually make a pocket for breast implants to go into during a second procedure several months down the road.

(**images totally pilfered from the internet and not properly cited, I know!)

Barring complications, I should only be in the hospital for about 24 hours. The pain will be bad, and I will have restrictions on what I can lift for quite some time. There are some other gross post-op realities that come along with mastectomy - the drains! Having been through mastectomies with my mom, I've experienced these little balls of joy, and I'm really not looking forward to them. I'll stay out of work for 5-6 weeks, and then should be able to go back with only the lift restriction in place.

So for the people who like the really gross medical details, just Google "Mastectomy" "Mastectomy Drains" and "Breast Tissue Expanders."

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On a lighter note, we've decided to have a "Boob-Voyage" party for my birthday. You know, to say ta-ta to my tatas! I figure I might as well have some fun with all of this! Healing will be a long process, and will probably keep our holidays pretty low key. It will be fun to hang out and see folks. It will be on 12/6 - watch for details on Facebook!

Why, Part 2.

I attended a funeral today. The husband of a friend, the father of a former student. I heard stories of a great man; a friend, a jokester, and someone who valued making meaningful connections to the people in his life. His brother said, "If you were going to be a part of Augie's life, he wanted to understand what you were all about."

Taken entirely too soon by cancer, I watched as his young daughter sobbed into her mother's shoulder. Cancer is ruthless, it takes no prisoners.

With no action, there is an 87% chance that cancer will invade my body. It could be my children sitting there in the service, crying on Kimberly. By taking action, I can reduce that particular risk to less than 1%. Worth it? Hell yes.

Sure, none of us are promised any tomorrows. Each day is a gift to be cherished. Might I still get some other form of cancer? It's possible. Could I get in a car accident on my way to work tomorrow? It happens all of the time. There are so many things that are our of our control. In so many ways, the whole idea of control truly is a farce, I'm starting to realize.

Plato said that courage is knowing what not to fear. I'm not afraid of this surgery, and I'm really not afraid of cancer. What terrifies me is the thought of living a life without connections. There's nothing more amazing than sharing a moment with another soul, when you can look in their eyes and see into their heart and feel their eyes on your own.

Why am I choosing these drastic preventative measures? Because my wife, two beautiful daughters, and unborn baby are worth it. The people with whom I'm blessed enough to share those essential, meaningful connections are worth it.

It really is time for the selfishness to end. I can live ten thousand more days in my life without my natural breasts, but I don't think I can live another day without knowing YOU better.

The Most Difficult Decisions

In the work I do, I'm frequently asked if I blog.

And I know I should, but every time I start to seriously consider it, I realize that there are already a million other people out there doing exactly what I'm doing, and sharing it in ways that are much more articulate and interesting than I ever could.

I had the same feelings about starting this blog - There are so many people out there who are writing about their BRCA journey in ways that are funny and meaningful and humble... What could I say that hasn't already been said? 

I made the decision to start writing myself though, because I know by using my own voice I can speak to the audience that means the most to me. If even one person I know and care about learns even one tiny piece of information that helps them be more informed of their own risk of cancer, then it will have been worth my time.

So speaking of authors who are way more articulate than myself, I came across this article recently. It's so powerfully well-written and conveys so many emotions that I'm feeling right now.

What No One Tells You About Your BRCA Mutation

But unlike the author, I know I am so fortunate that I am at a place in my life where I'm completely comfortable with saying that I'm not at all interested in bearing any more children. That's not a decision I need to worry about. I struggled so much for my sweet baby P, I have no desire to repeat any of that. I don't envy anyone who has the emotional burden of the extra decisions of whether or not to wait on surgery in order to have a family, or perhaps whether to have biological children at all?

I sometimes wonder how life might have been different if I'd known about the mutation before having P. I have such horrible guilt attached to the fact that she will also have to be fully tested for this mutation some day. She is as likely to have it as me. Would knowing sooner have affected my decisions to have a baby at all? 

And how will this affect P's life and her choices about having a family? I am thankful to be empowered with the knowledge of my elevated cancer risk. I never questioned whether or not I would act on the information I received from my genetic counseling. I have been fully committed to being proactive with my health, that decision was easy. 

But when will be the right time to explain this all to P? I hate to ever burden her innocent heart. Where is the line between protecting her and keeping her out of the dark about her own health? 

These decisions will be the most difficult. 

Selfish Season

Anyone who knows me even a tiny bit understands that "stretching myself thin" is typically just a part of how I function, especially at work. I don't get a lot of sleep, I take on a lot of extra projects, and don't very often say no when someone needs help. 

But I've been really selfish lately. It's been all about ME; what makes ME happy, what I can handle, what makes ME feel good. MY job, MY friends, MY thrills. MY needs.

By the way, I would like to publicly state that my wife is a saint for putting up with me through all of this. 

And really, I hope that my children are too young to remember this selfish season of my life, because I acknowledge that I have not been the best I can be for them, either. 

Who is this girl?

I know it's all founded in a fear of losing a part of myself after December 10th. Will I feel incomplete? Will I have regrets? Will I ever feel desirable again? 

Will I be strong enough to not fall into a deep, dark depression? 

And in all of this selfish ME time, I don't seem to have any energy to give to others right now so I have been neglecting a lot of people who mean the world to me. Have I been a good friend? A good coworker? A good spouse, partner, and lover? 

I've also been seriously evaluating the relationships in my life. I especially don't have time to put energy into relationships that I don't (totally selfishly) get anything out of. I know these feelings are temporary, but let's face it, we all have a few people in our lives that are probably adding unnecessary dead weight and strife. I just don't have time for nonsense right now. 

I'm all about me, you know?