"Yes, Jerry, they are real and spectaclar!"

My neighbors recently came over and we were talking about my upcoming surgery.  I filled them in with details about how I am setting up different consultations with plastic surgeons that specialize in different types of reconstructions.  As I was talking to them, I went into detail about the different types of reconstructions and the pros and cons of each.

I figured I would take a moment and share with you the different types of reconstructions and the choices I have to choose from.  To be honest, it would be so much easier if there was a one size fits all (total pun intended) reconstruction because that would make my decision making much easier.  However, I am left with the blessing (in disguise) of time so I can choose the right pair of boobies for me!

Before I break down the A, B, C’s of reconstructions (again a pun…I am on fire tonight) on picking out my breast, I am reminded of a Seinfeld episode about whether or not Jerry’s girlfriend’s breast were real.  In the episode his girlfriend, played by the one and only Teri Hatcher, is mused by Elaine and Kramer.  Kramer states the argument that her breasts are real because he has seen them before.  Elaine believes they are fake because they stay so perky and goes so far as to “trip” in a sauna where Hatcher was sitting to fall into her breast and get a good feel.  Jerry, however, could care less because he knows he has the whole package!  The show ends with Hatcher breaking up with Jerry because she finds out about the debate on whether her breast are real or fake and ends by walking out of Jerry’s apartment confirming, “Yes, Jerry, they are real and spectacular!”

Which brings me back to the question at hand, what kind of reconstruction is best for me?  There are two main types of reconstruction I can choose from: having implants put in or having my own fat and tissue taking from a donor site and use that to make breast.  I wonder, if I use my own fat and tissue, would my breast be considered real and spectacular?  It is my tissue and skin? 

Here is the breakdown with pros and cons if you are wondering:

Implants –

* I would need two short surgeries, one to put in expanders that would get filled with fluids every two weeks until I get to my desired size (we all know I am going Dolly Parton style so it might take a while…okay I am full of crap there is no way I am going that big) and one to put the final implants in (con, I hate going to the doc , so going every two weeks would blow)

*After having implants put in I would no longer have sensation in my breast (con)

*Implant surgery has a quicker recovery (pro)

*This type of reconstruction is in-network so my insurance would pay more (pro)

*The shelf-life of implants are about 10 years (did you know that!!??) I am a young hot woman which means I would need to get new boob s at least two more times (con)

* I would have to choose either saline or silicone which means I have something foreign in my body (con)

*I would have boobs of a 20 year old when I am 80 (con!)

Tissue Flap –

* Longer recovery that is slightly risker for infections (con)

* Free lipo in my butt…hell yeah (pro)

* My own tissue and fat that will be placed into my chest at the size I want in the first surgery (pro)

* I could get up to 80% feeling back into my breast because of nerve regeneration (pro)

* The only surgeons are out of network and out of state so we would have to travel and pay more (con)  

*  Using donor tissue I would never have to have surgery on my breast again (pro), they will grow with me and sag with me (boo!)

That is the basic breakdown.  Probably not the most exciting blog but at least it was informative.  To be real for a moment, I really am nervous about making the decision.  The surgery does not scare me as much as being concerned with which surgery is going to be best for my body.  My body will be going through immense changes and I want to make sure that in the end I can look at myself in the mirror and love what I see.

You need what, again!?!

I must say, I am proud of myself!  I made the effort on Wednesday to set up my first consultation at New Orleans Breast Center.  As I have mentioned I am in a support group for women with a genetic history of breast cancer, and everyone in the group has told me I am at the most difficult part of my journey.  Trying to figure out what type of reconstruction to have and where to have it done can be agonizing.  You are telling me! 

I often ask myself, does anyone despise going to new doctors and even more filling out those awful medical history forms more than me?  Honestly, I’d rather clean toilets after a chili cook-off festival than continue to fill out medical history forms and insurance forms.

I believe this distaste stems from my mom who reamed me a new one after the first time I filled out my own insurance form.  I was sitting at our kitchen table feeling like an adult because I was no longer on my parent’s insurance and had gotten my first big-girl job after leaving Georgia Southern.  The form asked if I smoked, well…I did not want to lie in case the big insurance people came after me with a lie detector test, so I said, yes.  I submitted my insurance proud of the fact I was now a grownup and when mom saw I put, “yes” as a smoker she became very concerned and questioned my health.  I admitted I had tried smoking once in the past and hated it so I never did it again.  Her tone moved from concern to pissed quicker than a bolt of lightning. She informed me, even though it was necessary to be honest on these forms, you don’t have to be that honest!  Lesson number 84 from mom. 

So here I am left with filling these forms out and my stomach is full of anxiety about whether or not I should or should not put exactly what they are looking for:

Sex – “okay might alleviate some stress”

Do you drink – “I will be after I am done with this 9 page history”

Do you take herbal supplements – “ in the form of brownies count” (laugh people it’s a joke!)

All kidding aside, my dad asked me yesterday, “how likely are you to get breast cancer if you have the double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery done?”  The minimal percentage is incredible.  I am at less than 1% risk of breast cancer after the surgery.  For me it is clear, go for it!  Medical and insurance histories here I come!

What's the big deal?

Joy to be celebrated mom has been in remission for 11 months! 

But wait….mom had called me to make plans for a mother-daughter date at Starbucks one Saturday afternoon.  I loved our Starbucks dates and looked forward to this one!  We sit down outside, mom with her strawberry cream frappuccino and me with my skinny vanilla latte, and begin to shoot the breeze.  Then without notice, almost like word vomit, mom interrupts me to say she needs to talk to me about something.  My heart skips a beat and without hesitation mom shares, her cancer had returned.  “Metastatic breast cancer that has moved to my lungs”, she says.  I sit there dumbfounded like I have been bowled over by an incredible force.  I did not know what to say and crying was out of the picture.  I was ready to move… “let’s conquer this thing” mentality.  Instead of telling me how she was going to “fix” herself mom preceded to tell me that her doctors have asked her to get a genetic test done to see if she is BRCA positive.  She explained to me, if I am positive for this mutated gene you have a 50/50 chance of having it too and if I am negative there is nothing for me to worry about.

A week later, she finds out she is BRCA2 positive.  CRAP!  I thought, but mom insisted I get the genetics test done too.  Her motto, “it’s better to be proactive than reactive.”  Long story short (yep said it again) my test came back positive too.  The ironic part I was ready to “fix” me and be proactive, mom’s lesson!  Sadly, mom felt so much guilt that she had “given” this mutation to me and made me promise I would take care of my health and body and have a mastectomy.  My thoughts, at 25, sure no big deal.  For those who are not familiar with the genetic mutation, I am over 85% at risk for breast cancer after the age of 35.  That is 10 years from now and I can talk a big game and sound confident that I am going to take care of this!

Well, four years later and it’s time.  Honestly, I have never felt nervous about the surgery at all.  I have prepared in my mind, this is what mom asked me to do and I made her a promise, so I am going to follow through.  Let me tell you, now that the cards are on the table, my poker face is becoming less obvious.  I am currently reading a book that was suggested to me from a support group I attend (FORCE) called The Breast Reconstruction Guidebook.  The book talks about all the different types of reconstructive surgery I can have, from implants (saline or silicon) to flap surgery where they take fat from a donor site (more than likely my butt) and create new breasts from that.  Hey free liposuction….hummm!  Joking aside, this part is overwhelmingly scary.  I find myself getting mad at times because I don’t know what surgery to choose, which is right for my body, when should I set up consults, ect.  Even writing this is making me feel anxious!  On that note….I am going to “woo-saw” and start at square one.  Call some different plastic surgeons and begin setting up consults.

The meaning of Pink Stinks

In case you are wondering the meaning of "Pink Stinks" is very close to my heart. When mom was diagnosed with breast cancer she started to receive all kinds of breast cancer awareness stuff. Mind you, in the beginning of her diagnosis both mom and I fell into the trap of buying everything that had to do with supporting a cure for breast cancer. I went so far as buying mom every shade of pink in t-shirts and sweaters as possible. I guess there is a sense of hope (and maybe a false sense of control) if I buy all this pink stuff and give it to mom she will get better because I have spent $100s of dollars to find a cure. I say this with sincere laughter because I truly believe that is why (at least for me and mom) we spent so much money on pink stuff in the beginning.

Mom soon learned "Pink Stinks" is a term used in the breast cancer community. The meaning is, if you are getting all this pink stuff that equates to you having breast cancer. Well that sucks! So the sarcastic tone of "Pink Stinks"...find a cure! Granted the money spent on all this stuff has allowed for a ton of research and progress in this branch of medicine to save many lives however pink still stinks. The hope is no one will have to get pink stuff ever again because breast cancer will be eradicated and women will live long and healthy lives.

 

Pink Stinks, Find a Cure

So...I guess with blogs I need to make clear some of the most important people in my life.  I suspect there will be times I use their names and it would help if you knew who I was talking about.  Here is a little snip bit of the people that support and love me everyday.

My mom, Kim.  I had the best mom growing up and as I became a young adult our relationship moved from mother and daughter to best friends.  I love her so much and still talk to her daily even though I can't hear her.  Mom passed away with breast cancer on April 28, 2009.  I admired mom growing up and watched how her motivation for life allowed her to be a remarkable woman.  I, also, watched my mom live for 6 years after her diagnosis with breast cancer.  She never allowed cancer to run her life.  She always said, "I am not my cancer."  Unfortunately, life is not always fair and through all her tenacity and fight, I held mom's hand the morning she took her last breath.  There is something to be said about watching mom go through all she did, with her chin up and head held high, to be taken my the SOB in the end.

I must make very clear, for all that she went through and all that I observed the blessing is in disguise because today I have the gift to live.

My dad, Scott.  He was and still is an amazing father.  When I was a little girl and even through some of my hardest times as an adult woman watching my mom, my dad always held my hand to keep me strong.  He use to tell me to squeeze his hand as hard as it hurts because he would take my pain.  Today he still holds me close and lifts me up when I need it.  I look up to my dad (mostly because he is 6'5) oddly because he and I have shared my life experiences that are unexplainable.  For example, I was in a bad car accident as a teen and he had been too, he always have been able to say, "I know how you feel."  There is comfort in knowing you are not alone.

My partner, Ginny.  She is my red-string and seems to know when I am up or down without being around me.  She has been a rock for me since we met.  I openly shared with her the first time we met that I had a mutated gene and would eventually have a double mastectomy.  Without a blink of an eye, she said "do it, do it sooner than later.  You have beautiful spirit that needs to be around for a long time."  It took courage for me to share this with her but my mindset has always been this is a part of me and if there is someone important in my life they need to be able to understand my choices.  Ultimately, she has been the biggest motivator to move forward with getting my surgery now instead of allowing me to make excuses to procrastinate.

My mom's husband, Paul.  I could not have asked for a better person than Paul as my mom's husband.  He and mom always had fun together.  When mom was diagnosed, Paul always said, "I am not Kim's care-taker, I am her husband."  I loved that he felt that way.  Again, mom said she was not her cancer so why should anyone feel as though they should adjust their relationship just because this was one part of her.  Paul loved my mom unconditionally and supported mom in everything she did.  Paul kept in touch with me during the time mom would get results back from her doctor's appointments and let me know how she was doing regularly.  Paul is a huge part of my life and he will always be my mom's husband to me.

I have 4 step-siblings of whom ARE my sisters and brother.  I grew up an only child but my mom re-married when I was 18 to Paul.  Paul and my sisters and brothers have taught me about the unconditional love you have for your family even when they piss you off. 

Kelly, is my brother and my age.  He lives in Atl and works all the time at his new job as a chef.  I love Kelly and believe he is one of the most genuine people on this earth. 

Erin, is my sister who is 2 years younger than me.  She is incredibly intelligent and I often find I go to her seeking advice or even praise.  I am truly blessed by Erin because in my mom's sickest moments, Erin went to live with mom in Jacksonville, Fl to help Paul take care of her.

Kate, is my sister who is 4 years younger than me.  She has the personality of a firecracker and tenaciousness, like my mom.  The one thing I love most about Kate is she is a "no holds bar" kind of girl.  In other words, she is going to tell you what she thinks no matter if you want to hear it or not.  I love this about her because too often as humans we worry so much about hurting someone's feelings we don't say something that needs to be talked about.  Kate is a breath of fresh air!

Casey, is my sister who is, also, 4 years younger than me.  She is a new mom to Addis and I have seen Casey mature into an amazing woman.  I know how proud my mom would be of her right now.  The thing I love most about Casey is every time I see her she always brings up a story about mom.  I love it!  Seriously she always says, "do you remember when Kim....." and inevitable it is a story that has us both laughing :)

My best friends.

Cindy is my childhood best friend and red-string too.  Cindy has been apart of everything in my life.  Seriously, I can say there may be only one person who knows E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G about me and that is her.  She is my rock and for awhile I had to come to her with (what seemed at the time) bad news often but Cindy always lifted me up.  She was my optimist throughout my mom's diagnoses and she protected me from things that may have skewed how I believed my mom would recover.  Cindy asked me if there were ever questions I had about the cancer mom was going through to as her first so she could find the information that was apropiate for my heart at that time.  Cindy would send my mom letters and cards periodically while she was going threw treatment to let her know she was thinking about her.  I am blessed to have an amazing friend who knows when I need her and understands when I just want to be alone.  I love Cindy with all my heart.

Amy is my college best friend.  Ironically, Amy followed my mom down to Jax after college (okay not really followed her) because she was offered a nursing position at the children's hospital down there.  I love Amy because as often as I would come to Jax to see my mom she would always make time to spend with me to make me feel a little more normal.  There were times I would travel down and mom would not be doing well and I knew I could count on Amy to take me away for a moment and do something fun.  Amy has shared her life and family with me since we have met.  Her family has opened their home to me and accepted me (I think) as one of theirs.  I believe my life is more whole because I have two best friends I can laugh with and cry with no matter the time of day.

The purpose of starting this blog came to me during a conversation I had with my sister, Erin, today.  To make a long story short (yeah right for those of you who know me)  I am making the choice to have a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery done in the near future.  Through all my trials and tribulations I want to be able to share with everyone my experiences.

See short and sweet!

Eye's closed on this blog thing and not knowing what I am doing I ask that you are patience with me :)

With that being said, here we go!