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I have spent seven years wondering if cancer broke my gut instinct. With every ache or pain, or thought of a long-term life dream, I would consider recurrence. What if it comes back?
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The most commonly misunderstood piece of my whole journey has definitely been breast reconstruction. Everyone can clearly understand cutting out the cancer. What happens next is very mysterious. Kudos to those of you who feel comfortable asking just what exactly is going on with me now. When everyone else’s heads swivel around to hear my answer, it’s helped me to recognize how little people know about this process and how helpful it might be if I detailed it here. Stick with me though, it’s not a short process to explain.
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Four months ago today, on April 1, my mom, Luke and I walked into Rex Breast Care Specialists for our first meeting. It was the day I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. At that meeting we plotted a course of action that included a lumpectomy followed by six weeks of radiation and five years on a drug called Tamoxifen. Suffice it to say, it was the least funny April Fool’s Day ever.
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“How did you find it?”
“Was there a lump?”
“Do you have a family history?”
I have been peppered with questions like these since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Even the radiology teams and nursing folks all want to know, “You’re so young, how did you even have a mammogram?” or “How did you get here?” Especially because, to the surprise of many, there was no lump.
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The surgeons and medical sites offer such vague accounts and there are not many detailed, personal stories out there. Soooo, with that in mind… today marks three weeks since I was released from the hospital after my surgery and it seems as though this milestone has ushered in a pretty hefty speed bump. I am struggling.
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