Hands Off My Breasts!

What no one tells you about breast cancer

The Monday after Coachella 2015 I returned to Los Angeles and received the results of a breast biopsy. At my last check-up, I had been forewarned that the pain I was experiencing in my left breast for two and a half years was most likely a benign situation. Pain and cancer to not go hand and hand said my surgeon, but caffeine and breast pain do. I balked at that, wondering how I would survive without caffeine in my life. How bad was this pain, really?

As it turned out, I would not need to live without caffeine.

At this follow-up appointment, I was diagnosed with Ductal Carcinoma In Situ, a non-invasive low- grade early stage breast cancer, existing in a milk duct and only a milk duct. I went home, cried, and debated my options. Option A: lumpectomy surgery to remove the cancer cells, followed by radiation treatment. Option B: have a mastectomy.

I went home, cried, and debated my options.

Option B would be inevitable if I carried a genetic mutation in BRCA1 or BRCA2, the two genes related to breast cancer. Or, what is popularly known as the Angelina Jolie genes. Because of my age of 39 (same as Angie), if a genetic mutation was found, up goes my risk of a repeat cancer. Also, if an MRI revealed other questionable calcifications in my breast, a mastectomy was even more inevitable. But very lucky me, both gene test and MRI were negative. So lumpectomy and radiation it was! Then I went to see my chiropractor.

I love *Victor. He was my anatomy teacher at massage therapy school. I trust in his advice and medical knowledge. When I shared my diagnosis with him he looked at me grimly and said, “ You have a very big decision to make”. Well, I knew that, but I thought I’d already made it. Until we started to discuss the side effects of radiation. Which in his opinion, were long lasting and detrimental to the body. I started to panic. Had I done enough research of my options to make a truly informed decision? I left his office physically aligned but very mentally mis-aligned. I called my surgeon. I told her I wasn’t sure if lumpectomy was the right way to go. She recommended I see a radiation oncologist and a plastic reconstructive surgeon to be clear on what I’d be in for.

Best kind of cancer to have, worst kind of rack to have it in.

I saw the plastic surgeon first. *Dr. Lee was a tall, thin and striking woman with a very calm demeanor and matter of fact attitude. She sat across the room on a stool with wheels. She proceeded to tell me of the potential physical risks of radiation on a breast. In her opinion, small breasts were terrible for radiation. The skin would contract, she said, leaving me looking smaller and deformed. Bottom line? Best kind of cancer to have, worst kind of rack to have it in. Throughout our appointment I became increasingly emotional as she described the horrific details of mastectomy surgery and consequently reconstructive surgery. It would be a long process, involving drains hanging out of your chest area for weeks, and a plastic empty balloon type implant being inserted into the spared breast skin and injected with fluid over time. The hospital stay was long and the recovery even longer. She told me that if I wanted to go bigger, my insurance covered symmetrical surgery, meaning I could get an implant in my healthy right breast and have my insurance company pay for a boob job. “Isn’t that great?” she said. I teared up. She rolled herself closer. Her cold energy became warmer and her voice kinder. She whipped out an iPad and showed me photos of her work. She reconstructed nipples out of skin when the nipple could not be spared. She made women look almost normal. She was a terrific surgeon. She helped women stay in control of how they’ll look when cancer is eradicated by whatever means. I appreciated her point of view and it devastated me.

“if you DID want to go bigger…. you could do that with mastectomy surgery and reconstruction…. I’m just saying…if you did want to….”

Then I went to see *Dr. Mader, doctor of radiation oncology. I met with his resident first. We talked for 45 minutes before Dr. Mader came in. She was young and nice, and was doing her best to calm my fears. I told her about Dr. Lee, that she said I would be deformed if I had radiation. The resident chuckled and said, “that is simply not true”. She told me that plastic surgeons will often cite the one case in which someone was actually deformed by radiation, and they will use that case to scare you into going with reconstruction to keep their business going. She said radiation oncologists have a love/hate relationship with plastic surgeons. They needed them of course, but sometimes they created fear where there shouldn’t be.

After discussing the side effects with Dr. Mader and the resident, I felt confident that this was what I wanted to do. It would be a long process, 6 1/2 weeks to be exact, 33 treatments Monday through Friday, but I would come out with some fatigue and skin irritation and hopefully with decreased chances for cancer re-occurrence. This I could live with. Losing my breast I could not.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized this truth about myself.

As I was leaving Dr. Mader’s office, the resident pulled me aside and said, “all what we discussed aside, (she lowered her voice), “if you DID want to go bigger…. you could do that with mastectomy surgery and reconstruction…. I’m just saying…if you did want to….” She trailed off. I looked into her compassionate eyes, the eyes of a person who wanted me to have all my bases covered, and said with complete confidence, “ You’re talking to a person who has been 100 percent happy with her body all her life. I’m not interested in going bigger, I just want to spare what I have already.” She smiled and said that was refreshing to hear.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized this truth about myself. I never had to consider my body in this way, what body parts I’m willing to give up to save my life. Most people don’t have to. And I never knew how much I liked my body until I was faced with having to alter it. I wish I had appreciated it more before.

I start radiation treatment next week. In my case, getting the cancer out was the easy part. Keeping it out is the harder part. I endured three lumpectomy surgeries in two and half weeks in June. It was crazy and painful and emotionally taxing but I’m through it now and cancer-free. Now I will spend the next six weeks in a doctor’s office every day.

We go through life with blinders on, but the extremes make us wake up and take notice. We fear the bad things, but I found that when they do happen, it can actually be a gift. So far through this challenging journey, I know who my true friends are, how much my husband loves me, and how badly I want to live. And of course, how much I love my tiny boobs.

*Names have been changed.