I had a double mastectomy...but I'm not sick

I have been MIA for awhile, and I have a good reason...I had a double mastectomy.  Don't worry, I don't have cancer!  I did this as a preventative, and I have a few good reasons why.  It wasn't an easy decision. Here is a link to my updated privacy policy, and this post contains affiliate links.

My mom was already very sick, and barely made it to my wedding

The journey to a double mastectomy

This journey for me began two years ago, after I finished nursing my youngest child.  I already knew that I had increased risk for breast cancer, as my pre-menopausal mother died from it, and an aunt on my father's side.  I decided to visit a breast surgical oncologist to ask what I needed to do to be proactive.  The list was long, and daunting.

I began high risk monitoring immediately, which included having either an MRI, or a mammogram every six months, and every two months having a breast exam by a doctor.  The stress was almost unmanageable.  It was constant, invasive, and my friend Rita even held my hand through one particularly terrifying monitoring period.  I just kept waiting for the results to be: cancer.

The next thing on the list of things from my doctor was further genetic testing.  I am BRACA negative, but they have improved the testing.  She wanted to verify that I actually AM negative.  Long story short, I am negative for every type of genetic cancer that they currently can test for!  Great news, right? YES. But my lifetime risk for breast cancer was still high.

Negative BRACA test, then why?

Nothing changed.  The monitoring, the invasive fear,  absolutely nothing.  Did I mention that I have/had cystic breast tissue?  So I was constantly getting lumpy things that needed to be checked.

The last thing that was on the list from the doc was a prophylactic mastectomy.  At the time, I wasn't even really considering it as an option.  But, I just kept hearing my mother in my head, telling me that she wished she had done it.  Before she was sick, when she was constantly getting checked for her lumps and bumps.

I began to seriously consider it.  After our trip to California this summer, I met with the plastic surgeon, a year and a half after my first meeting with the oncologist.  We decided to go ahead with it.  We.  My husband and I.  Nothing about this has been easy, and he has been with me every step of the way (and still telling me how beautiful I am when I feel like a beast).

This post is getting ridiculously long, so I will continue in another one about the surgery itself.  I would love to hear from you breast cancer warriors, daughters of warriors, mastectomy warriors.  This shit is awful, but an answer to a prayer.


If you liked this post, you may like I hate October.

Ready part 2 of my mastectomy story, surgery and recovery.

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