Don't Worry, Be Happy

As a breast cancer survivor and BRCA-gene carrier, I appreciate Barbara Ehrenreich for acknowledging the “Think Positive!” attitude pervasive in the cancer world.

Although most people were exceptional when I went through chemotherapy, there were also well-meaning, but misguided, “positive energy” advisers. The “Be happy and you’ll be cured” superstition is all too common in cancer dialogue, which doesn’t allow space for patients to truly grieve or acknowledge their fear, pain and anger.

Thank goodness for support groups that allow people to be real in the mist of the unknown.

Speaking of Hair...

With all this focus on the cosmetic side of reconstruction, a girl can't go too long without bringing up the number 1 topic when it comes to our appearance...hair, of course.  

This past year, when gray strands started comingling with my brown ones, I decided it was time to stop the henna and take on serious coloring. However, permanent and semi-permanent hair dyes converted my hair's texture into straw, with strands floating above my head despite every product I tried to control it. 

Finally, a coworker put me in touch with a stylist who was a breast cancer survivor and used only non-toxic, organic products. I immediately made an appointment and discovered EcoColors hair color. 

Voila! The color is rich and natural and my hair's texture is soft and glossy. And, I feel better knowing I'm not infusing my scalp with toxic dyes.  Ask your stylist to try them.

Soliciting Surgery Opinions

I continue to seek opinions as to whether or not to have this minor surgery, and it's split half "do" and half "don't." 

Today, I received this advice from my friend, Anne, who is always wise and witty --

"Sounds like you’ve gotten lots of advice, so what if I add my 2 cents. Here’s my only question—does how it look or feel bother you? Honest answer (not to me, to yourself.). If it does at all, don’t try to talk yourself into thinking you’ll rise above it and get over it. You won’t. You’re too vain. (Remember, you drive all the way outside the perimeter to get facials.) And it’s only going to get more timely and costly for all our improvement/ maintenance items as we age…So, unless it HONESTLY doesn’t bother you, I’d go ahead and do it."

I was fine about not having surgery until she brought up my vanity.  Now, I may have to reconsider.  

Third Time's a Charm?

To cut, or not to cut. That is the question.

After last year's odyssey of reconstruction surgery, I am faced with the option of a final phase. Because I had radiation during cancer treatment years ago, one breast healed differently than the other.  That was to be expected, I was told. 

The difference in size and shape is not significant, nor is it painful.  It's just somewhat irritating and there is noticeable scar tissue.

Of course, my surgeon is all for another surgery to "tweak" everything and make me perfect.  Ah, to be perfect...such a temptation!

It may be "minor to him," since it's outpatient and the procedure takes only 30 minutes. But anytime I go under the knife and it involves general anesthesia -- not to mention needles, bloodwork, EKGs, drugs, the risk of infection and those nasty drains -- it's major to me. 

If they told me that I had cancer again, I'd go rushing to my surgeon's office in a flash.  But, it's cosmetic.  Non-life-threatening. Optional.

Do I really want to subject my body to more anesthesia and cutting and discomfort and healing time?  I've been committed all year long to exercise classes to build up muscle strength and flexibility that were lost during my surgery last year.

Surgery requires you to lay off intense exercise -- only walking -- for 6 weeks afterwards.  Don't know that I want to stop my workouts after I've made such progress. 

I've asked everyone's opion (short of the people I pass on the street).  Surgery or not?  My husband says no, that I look great and have been through enough surgery to last a lifetime.  Amen to that.  Mom votes yes, since I'm still relatively young and have health insurance.  I might change my mind down the road and then I'll be older (riskier) and may not have insurance coverage.  My friend, a former plastic surgery nurse, agrees with my husband that my body has been through enough.  Other friends have said to do it and get it over with so I won't have to worry about it any more.

This is what I lie awake at night and think about. But I don't have that many nights left since my surgery is scheduled in two weeks.  So, to keep my date with the surgeon or cancel. That is the question.  Then, there's the possibity of perfection...

The Thrill of It All

I see no need to ever ride a roller coaster again. Nor try bungy-jumping, skydiving or rappelling. No extreme sport can equal the death-defying thrill of being a cancer survivor.

UP...you have cancer...DOWN...treatment arrested it...UP...you have the BRCA gene...DOWN...surgery will prevent reccurence...UP...there's a questionable area on your MRI scan...DOWN...the followup MRI shows no cancer growth...UP...your blood test shows elevated markers...DOWN...your blood test is normal again.

It's the roller coaster hell of WHAT IF? that happens with every checkup, every blood test and every scan. 

Having to face the inevitable can be Good...you take nothing for granted and, hopefully, live each day to its fullest...and Bad...you worry that your life may be cut off sooner than later. 

After all the up's and down's of my ride with cancer, and I'd like to take a breather for a while.  Yesterday, I found out my markers were within normal range again.  Hurrah!  When I received the good news at the doctor's office, I broke down and cried. 

Waiting over a week for results of my latest blood test put me on edge.  Okay, over the edge.  On the surface, I thought I was doing fine, but my husband and parents noticed I was even more wired than normal.  Which says a lot, since I'm Type-A. 

I didn't tell them for the better part of a week, but finally relented when I kept snapping at everyone over the weekend.  Mom told me that harboring all this anxiety and not sharing my fears with others only makes it worse.  Talking about it with a few safe people can help get me through rough emotional times like these. 

Agreed.  But, the question is, do you drag your loved ones onto the roller coaster with you since it's a continual ride for the rest of your life?  This has been my dilema since being first diagnosed.  Why put my husband and parents through unnecessary worrying?

On the other hand, does "protecting them" by not allowing them to live through this experience really help them and me?

I don't know.  And until I resolve this issue, I can't promise that I'll handle it differently the next time.

The Quest for Less Stress

I hate when someone tells me not to be stressed or I'll get cancer.  That sends me over the edge, since they're saying that if cancer returns, then I'm to blame.  Just what a cancer survivor needs -- Guilt.  And saying that to a Type-A, high-strung personality is pretty much telling me to change who I am.  Or change my life.

To eliminate stress in my life, I would need to (1.) quit my job, (2.) end my friendships, (3.) ignore my husband and family, (4.) stop driving altogether, (5.) cancel my New York Times subscription, (6.) stay in bed all day. Essentially, quit living. 

Then, I get a call from my oncologist who tells me that I have elevated "markers" (indicating a possibility of cancer cell growth) from my visit a week ago...and you tell me NOT to be STRESSED?!

I ask you: What NORMAL human being wouldn't be stressed by all that?  We all live crazy lives and then ADD CANCER to the mix and, PRESTO!, you have my life.

So, off I went to the oncologist's office yesterday for more lab work (big needle in little veins drawing lots of blood).  

And now, the waiting game begins.  One week until I find out the results.  And you tell me to not be stressed.

Surgeons Lie

In case I haven't told you this before, surgeons lie.

It's true. They minimize the pain and emphasize the fabulous end result. And leave out a few details.

My first breast surgeon told me the scar would be so tiny that I could walk buck naked down the French Riviera and no one would suspect I had a lumpectomy. He was wrong, of course...not that being naked on the Riviera was ever a goal of mine.

The surgeon who performed my hysterectomy told me that "it was his best cut ever." Wrong again. I've sliced raw chuck roast at a better angle. He should have taken the knife skills cooking class with me.

My reconstruction surgeon said my "new" stomach would be flat as the wall. Maybe. I'll let you know after I complete 15 years of boot camp.

I guess surgeons think that if they appeal to your vanity, you'll gladly go under the knife. Frankly, saving my life was incentive enough for me. They could skip the false promises. But apparently they didn't trust I'd be that level-headed.

So, I'm here to tell you BRCA carriers: Get the surgery. Go under the knife. And know that you're taking the right step in helping prevent cancer's appearance or reccurence. But don't bank on being naked on the French Riviera.