Exactly one year ago I checked in for a bilateral mastectomy and breast reconstruction, just hoping this was the best option for keeping me cancer-free. Removing both of my breasts, which would eliminate about 98% of the tissue that held my tumor and could possibly lead to more cancer in my future, was radical, but I felt like there really was no other decision. Lumpectomy + radiation for my tumor size would remove and destroy a large amount of tissue and would require plastic surgery, anyway. A unilateral mastectomy left too high of a risk of recurrence. All my options kept coming back around. If I was going to need more treatments and additional surgery, anyway, I might as well take care of everything, all at once. So, in I went, and off they came.
One year later, I'm healed, physically, but I bear some major battle scars. Let's start with the positive: The breasts actually do look pretty good.
{The scars here have healed amazingly. If only they looked this good everywhere! You can only see the work from my 2nd reconstructive surgery, plus the scars from the drains.}
There are some negatives: First, my tattoos are distinctly uneven. The abdominal scar is still quite severe, and the chasm where the remaining fat and tissue was reconnected is quite noticeable, since I didn't have any additional sculpting work done.
{One year after surgery: My least favorite reminder. It's MUCH better than it was a year ago, though.}
{Before: One week after surgery.}
I do not have much sensation--neither in my breasts nor around my abdominal scar--other than when I still feel some tingling or a few deeper aches and pains. There is definitely no getting around the fact that I have had some major surgeries. The scars scream their story.
Mentally and emotionally, I'm much better. Removing the port, completing chemo, and hearing a cancer-free diagnosis happened in about a month's time frame and, miraculously, all helped to lift the fog. Even when trying to remain strong and positive through the battle, there are countless mental and emotional burdens--along with the physical ones--when trudging through the unknown and darkness of a trial, which is possibly best described as being "heavy laden." Once that final load had been lifted and the darkest parts were over, I began to feel so much more like myself again! {Having hair that looks more like an intentional cut rather than growing out from baldness and having enough that it can actually be styled in more than 2 ways is liberating, as well.} I knew exactly what it meant to be given "rest." As our Savior puts it: "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." {Matthew 11:28} When we do all that we can do, there comes a point where Jesus takes over, and we can rest from trying to carry those heavy burdens alone. I still have my moments of sadness at the loss. I see the scars in the mirror every day and sometimes feel grotesque. It's frustrating to have a body that doesn't work and move like it used to and be on medications that cause weight gain and other side effects. There is a balance to be found between sadness for what is no longer and gratitude to be here at all.
In thinking about this 1st anniversary of my new body, I still wonder why this all had to happen. I probably won't know all of the answers to this question in this life, but as time goes on, I see more and more how this trial has been able to strengthen me and has blessed my life and the lives of those around me. Even though many emotional and physical scars from my breast cancer story remain, I feel great peace. This peace can only come by having faith and hope that God is in charge. Cancer is an interesting thing. There is no guarantee that I will stay in remission for the rest of my life. My behaviors cannot buy that kind of insurance, neither can my doctors offer it. Only God knows, as The American Cancer Society all but admits: "Even with our current understanding of how cancer develops and grows, this disease is mostly a mystery and not within human control." Being afraid of recurrence does no good, either. Allowing myself to slip into fear would go against everything faith and hope stand for. Jesus has promised us peace, which drowns out fear. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." {John 14:27} Peace drowns out fear, and we have all been promised peace, if we will but seek it. Quentin L. Cook has said, "Peace comes from knowing that the Savior knows who we are and knows that we have faith in Him, love Him, and keep His commandments, even and especially amid life’s devastating trials and tragedies.” Strengthening my faith and doing my best to come unto Christ was what helped me throughout my cancer journey. That faith and hope help me to journey on.
In answering the question of how I feel now, one year after this radical and body-altering decision: I feel peace.
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