Sigrid's Breast Cancer Story

 

It has been over 6 years since my mastectomy.  It seems like a lifetime!  Today rarely think of myself as a breast cancer survivor but then October  rolls around to remind me that I am among thousands of women who have had similar though not identical experiences.   I also think about those who have yet to navigate those troubling waters themselves.

I often look at water as a metaphor for life.  We all feel wonderful when it is clear -- frightened and confused when it becomes murky.  We welcome the calmer days but there is nothing quite as turbulent as the day you hear the words “breast cancer”.  Somehow I managed to ride those waves as they came at me and have found great peace in my decisions, as difficult as they were at the time.  My story is one of thousands, each one unique, but it has in many ways shaped me and affected how I look at life and what I value.  Here it is:

I am a busy lady and like other busy people I tend to put things off.  At age 51, after  I had put off a mammogram for over 5 years and was surprised when I received a call-back on my mammogram. I certainly never expected it to lead to anything.  I had dense breast tissue with many cysts so my mammograms were hard to read or so I thought.  It only made the diagnosis more difficult and drawn out.  What followed was a series of tests ranging from numerous additional mammograms (what fun!), ultrasounds and eventually needle biopsies.  Perhaps simply reading this list doesn’t sound like much but each procedure was a day away from work, a drive to the medical center, undressing, worrying, waiting (lots of waiting) and the discomfort of having a needle poked into your breast while it is flattened in the mammogram machine.  Additionally there were  new procedures like MRIs and breast ultrasounds that make you feel like way too much attention is being aimed at body parts that used to be fun and even useful.  You tend to disengage from them as this process unfolds so by the time I was told I might have to lose them I was already half-way there.

Still … the word “mastectomy” is fully charged.  It was like electro-shock for my brain when I first heard it.   I took the call from my doctor during a break from a design meeting and returned to the meeting like a woman in a stupor.   In fact I had several such trance-inducing calls along the way.  Each time I was trying to proceed with business as usual and each time it stopped me in my tracks.   First was the call from the radiologist who told me that I had something called DCIS  (ductal carcinoma in situ) which is a pre-cancerous condition, located and confined within the mammary ducts.  It is not life threatening but has to be removed to prevent it from spreading outside the ducts and becoming invasive cancer.  She said it’s really just a nuisance but a “lumpectomy” and follow-up radiation should take care of it.   OK.   I adjusted to that after the initial shock wore off. 

Twice, I endured the lumpectomy and each time was disappointed to hear that the DCIS was not eliminated and the surgery was not successful.  As I learned more, I understood that the milk ducts are like tiny capillaries and the abnormal cells can be quite spread out as they were in my case and while it was not urgent, there was no way to solve this through a simple lumpectomy.  That’s when the M-word was first used.   Scary and powerful, it rocked me like a wave and undertow during a Northeaster but like any good body-surfer knows, you get up, cough up some water, shake out the sand and find your equilibrium. 

I have to admit there were a few times along the way that I felt like I was drowning .  The words cancer and mastectomy are powerful but I refused to let them pull me under and define me.  At first I thought only one breast was involved because that’s what first showed up on the mammograms so I inquired about the single mastectomy.  The first plastic surgeon I consulted was appallingly  blasé (“Don’t worry.  I’ve done hundreds of these”!) about the “flap technique” that required an incision and removal of part of the back muscle to support the implant used for reconstruction.  Not very appealing. 

I was fortunate to have the absolute best doctors right in my back yard.   I found them when I looked for a second opinion.   It made my life so much less stressful having them nearby, eliminating the need for a trip into the city.  I am happy I trusted my instincts which led me to my wonderful female plastic surgeon who approached the procedure compassionately and creatively, not just as an operation but as an art, knowing that looking natural and getting on with my life were my two top priorities.

As soon as I met her and my breast surgeon, who often pair up to do surgery together, I breathed a sigh of relief.  The “second opinion” I received actually convinced me that I should take the radical decision to have both breasts removed.   The other breast had “questionable” areas as well and I found the possibility of no mammograms in my future quite enticing.   Knowing that I would get this process over and done with forever would allow me to get on with the business of living.  The idea that I could have one surgery and wake up with no cancerous cells and new breasts gave me the confidence to take this step and feel good about it.   I still wonder why women choose to do anything to save a breast risking recurrence, suffering back flap incisions, living with a question mark looming but it’s such a personal choice. 

I am happy with my results.  I was one of the fortunate few to have the size, type and location of breast cancer (yes, they actually found a small invasive tumor in the other breast during the surgery!) that did not require any follow-up treatment.  No radiation, chemotherapy or Tamoxifen.  The recovery time from the nine hour surgery was long and somewhat painful as expected but six years later I am cancer-free and have the up-lift I always secretly wanted.

The hidden benefit I received was regaining some precious time to myself.  I spent the entire month of July at home, quietly living at a pace I hadn’t experienced since the 70’s.  When my energy returned I went to my studio and began to paint again.  I created artwork that contained uplifting messages and reflected the inner peace and joy I attained after riding this treacherous wave until it deposited me safely on the shore.  With my soul back in balance I also was happy to find a way back to physical strength and equilibrium through yoga and Pilates.  

Through the years I have become more public with my story, connecting with women everywhere, many of whom have openly shared their breast cancer experience.  I have been a friend to women faced with tough decisions and I have received comfort and support in return.  We are a network of human beings, joined by a moving, frightening and hopefully  life-affirming experience that helps us stay in touch with what’s important.