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http://flattops.webs.com/While I was growing up, my mom seemed to get cancer every several years. She considered cancer to be "her" disease, but I felt a nagging sensation that it might not be. I saw a program on television about HBOC syndrome, recognized the risk factors in our family, and learned about the only available option to possibly keep women with this serious genetic defect from developing aggressive cancer. I made the decision that, should we have a cancer gene mutation, I would have the recommended prophylactic mastectomies. Perhaps that decision came easily because my mom, after each of her cancer-related mastectomies, purchased prostheses and went on with life as usual. Fast forward to my late 20s, and the year 2006. A doctor talked to my mom about BRCA mutations and convinced her to be tested. When my mom, sibling, and I were ultimately diagnosed with the cancer gene (there's more than one--but we have the biggie), I felt relief for working through these issues years ago--it saved me from having to make a decision, because I'd already worked through all the "what ifs!" The oncologist deemed the mastectomies a "medical necessity," as did insurance and the surgeon. While my pathology came back clean for cancer, on one side there were already conditions beginning that would have--at the least--required investigation for someone like me in such a high risk category throughout (not just in one area), and revealed that cancer was already in the process of developing in one area. My mom never even remotely was interested in reconstruction for herself. I can't say I didn't investigate it. I definitely did, because on the site I looked to for support, everyone seemed to be seeking it. I learned about it without trying to, and also looked into it on other sites. The more I learned, though, the more it cemented my decision not to have it. I didn't even bother speaking to the plastic surgeon. It just didn't interest me. The "default" for doctors, especially toward people my age, seems to be to ask questions: "Would you like to consult a plastic surgeon?" "Are you going to have reconstruction?" Despite asking these questions, though, doctors did not try to pressure me into anything. I feel a strong part of that was having my mom along with me. She knows me well, and told them she knew I was the type of person who would not want it. (Let me add here that this was my decision--my mom backed me up.) Convincing others that I didn't want reconstruction seemed difficult in some cases, but only initially. Once I explained my reasons, everyone was supportive. My mom, who knows me best, remained my staunchest advocate, partly because she discovered a breast cancer on her own, post-mastectomy, and feels that not having reconstruction helped her find it easily. There were many reasons I decided not to have reconstruction, among them: seeing my mom do well without it, not wanting a lot of surgery, and not wanting to deal with close surveillance and repeated exchange surgeries. Once my bandages came off, that was it. In fact, following another BRCA1+ surgery, my oncologist unexpectedly completely dropped me as a "cancer patient!" Another reason stems from the fact that I have been sick since birth, culminating in serious illness in my teens. While my peers strove to fit in, I spent those formative years finding out about what truly makes me who I am; my hobbies, my interests, my faith, my soul. My body is something temporal and has nothing to do with the real me. Besides, I looked this flat as a child, and those were some of the happiest years of my life.
Melissa |