Tag: Gratitude

I Didn’t Expect THAT: Breast Changes

Or more accurately “Breast Changes, Lack Thereof.”

This one threw me for a loop. Prior to my lumpectomy, I scoured the internet for ideas of what partial breast removal looked like. In a word, disfigurement. Certainly, having half a breast was preferable to having no breast or dying from breast cancer, but I wondered how I would deal with losing a secondary sex characteristic that society uses as an indication of female-ness. My breasts had nursed two bouncing babies into toddlerhood and cancer was going to take one of them (breasts, not babies!). That kept me up at night.

Scars
Top scar: sentinel lymph node dissection; bottom scar: lumpectomy. Teeny!

After dying a thousand deaths, I found that my reality was not nearly as frightening. My lump was small and sitting at about 2 o’clock on my left breast. That put it dangerously close to my axillary (armpit) lymph nodes, which could enable the cancer to spread faster, but also in a place where tissue removal would be less noticeable. Three sentinel lymph nodes were removed from my armpit — they were found to be unaffected. My surgeon was able to get “clear margins” (no cancer cells were seen on the edge of the tissue that was removed) on the cancerous lump, and if not for the scars, there was little indication that I’d had surgery.

Scar_arm-down
View of my lumpectomy scar, arm down.

That blew my mind. With small breasts, I didn’t think I could spare the tissue. I was contemplating a prosthesis, and concerned that the size of the excision might tempt me to go with reconstructive surgery…but none of that was necessary. Even my surgeon was surprised. I told her it was because she was an excellent surgeon, but she wouldn’t accept the compliment. According to her, I was just very lucky.

After radiation treatment, that breast tightened up and even gained a bit of size. All at no extra cost.

So, whenever I do a gratitude meditation and count my blessings, I reflect upon this. There are so many things that could have been worse, and I had gotten lost in the terror of it all. But in the end, it was okay.

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Note: I wanted to show how similar both breasts looked, but then there’s all this potential for getting flagged as inappropriate, so you’ll need to be content with “side boob” photos and just take my word for it.

Gratitude for Community

My teenage daughter had her eyebrows threaded for the first time (her decision). The threading salon came highly recommended and it was bright and inviting with a peaceful vibe. On the wall by the entrance was a sign next to photos of the owner’s lovely children: “I am not lucky, I am blessed.”

Ok, you probably see where I’m going with this and it has nothing to do with eyebrows. As I waited for my daughter I read the sign over and over again and felt a rush of warm fuzzies. I feel the same way, not simply lucky, but blessed. And in that comfy little shop, I thought about where I was a year and a half ago, scared and disoriented after my diagnosis, feeling like my world was crashing in on me. That seems so far away now.

Later, I was less frantic and lost, but saw a future only as far out as my hand, living treatment to treatment, riding a roller coaster as I went from one new medical experience to the next. But even in the midst of treatment, when I took a moment to stop and look around, I knew that I had so much to be grateful for. Not the least of this were the people who cared for me: brilliant doctors, nurses, therapists and administrative personnel. When I pause to consider my treatment experience, the warmth of these people is what leaves me with such a positive feeling. It was the community of care that made a huge difference: the attending nurses in the infusion room, the radiation therapists that I saw daily for weeks, the other cancer patients, most of whom I never met, but with whom I shared the work of putting together a jigsaw puzzle in the waiting room as we all came for treatments throughout the day. That sense of community, of never feeling alone and always being supported, that’s what makes me feel so blessed right now.

Yes, when I finished my infusions, when I finished radiation, I jokingly told these wonderful people that I hoped I’d never see them again (they get that a lot), but every time I think of them, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.