The Thing About Breast Cancer

so….. this is weird.  When I tell my women friends about my medical situation, I very clinically and clearly explain my decision making process about surgery.  I explain that if I don’t have the genetic BRACA mutation, I will have a lumpectomy, but if I do have the mutation, I will have a double mastectomy.  Before I can get the words out, I seem to universally get the same (unsolicited) reaction from my friends, “IF IT WERE ME, I COULD CHOP THEM RIGHT OFF.  NO QUESTIONS ASKED; CHOP THEM RIGHT OFF”. 

gosh…. who knew women were so dispassionate about their breasts????!!!!  it’s odd; men are so obsessed with women’s breasts, and yet apparently all 45-ish year old women are completely ambivalent about them.  sometimes the ambivalence borders on outright disdain … as though “they” are in the way, and women have been looking for some excuse to get rid of them.  Seems unfortunate to me that such an awful thing like cancer strikes such lovely things as women’s breasts.  I mean, why can’t women instead get cancer of the cellulite on the back of the thighs?  cancer of the love handles?  cancer of the “muffin top”, that lovely piece of flesh that hangs over your low cut too tight pants? cancer of that fleshy part of your upper warm that sags like the neck of a turkey?  cancer of the double chin?  Who wouldn’t relish a chance for Aetna to pay to have your double chin surgically removed?????!!!!!!!

It’s clear to me that God is not a man, because a man would never invent a cancer that causes women to cut their breasts off. 

I told my daughter that I was visiting a plastic surgeon for a consult.  I explained that plastic surgeons get involved because you wouldn’t want to have big ugly scars following surgery.  As soon as she heard the word “plastic surgeon”, she said, “oh mom… please tell me you’re not going to look like Michael Jackson”.

Those who know me know that I’m a pretty modest person.  I tend to dress in conservative/preppy clothes with little or no cleavage to speak of.  In fact, I only just started wearing open toed shoes to work in the past 2 — 3 years!  I don’t jog in skimpy little sports bras and I don’t wear little “show it all off” bathing suits or cocktail dresses.  Why then, all of a sudden, am I taking off my shirt at a moment’s notice to anyone who has ever stepped foot near a  medical school???????????  At the breast surgeon’s office; at the plastic surgeon’s office, at the oncologist’s office, at the radiologist’s office.  I’m suddenly out of my clothes and into a robe at a moment’s notice for anyone who has any limited knowledge of breast cancer!  I went to get a flu shot last week and I almost took off my shirt! 

Only one other time in my life do I remember being this immodest — giving birth.  You know what I mean, right?  You go from being a pretty modest person to someone who has her legs in the air and is pushing out a baby in front of countless doctors, nurses, technicians and anybody else who happened to walk in the room.  As my friend “Helen” put it, “your entire high school marching band could be in the room, and you wouldn’t care … as long as somebody was there to catch the baby you were determined to push out of you!”

Here’s a “shout out”  to my friends and colleagues:  please stop me if you see me dis-robing at any inappropriate times!

In normal life, you pray to your own G-d and pretty much, you lose out on the power of the “other” deities.  What is good about having cancer is that everyone is suddenly on your team.  Not only are my own peeps saying “mishaberach” prayers at temples, but my friends (and their mothers!!) are saying rosaries, novenas and lighting candles at church.  It’s very inclusive, this cancer thing! 

So….. as soon as friends in the community learn that you have breast cancer, they volunteer to organize a campaign to bring dinners over to your house following surgery.  They also volunteer to drive your kids everywhere.  This is fascinating, since as a woman with a full time job and a pretty extensive travel schedule, I’m not on point to either cook or drive my kids during the week.  Who knew that you could get all these fabulous extras just because of a diagnosis of illness?????????  do you think I can convince people to write power point slides for me at work????  Any chance my neighbors will come clean out all those piles of crap in my kitchen?????  any chance I can get my neighbors to do my taxes and balance my check-book?????  hey…. it never hurts to ask! 

I’m not generally a person who notices women’s breasts.  I look at shoes, hair, whiteness and straightness of teeth and whether arms are toned or not.  Breasts?  Not so much!  Now I’m constantly staring at other women’s breasts, trying to decide how I’ll look with smaller, perkier breasts if I have to get a mastectomy.   Because I’m new and inexperienced at judging breasts, I invite my husband to stare along with me.  So……….. while it is no fun for any man to learn that his wife has breast cancer, at least he can take some comfort in the fact that he has full permission to Gaze without Guilt! 

so……. it pretty much stinks to hear that you’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer, but there are a few good things that happen.  I first received the diagnosis from a dear friend who is a radiologist.  He had the difficult task of telling me that, much to his surprise & dismay, my biopsy had come back positive.  After talking to me on the phone in my office while I cried, he told me he would come to my house that night and walk my husband and me through our options and next steps.  He showed up at our house that night with the world’s largest bottle of Belvedere Vodka (my favorite!!), six limes (a vodka accompaniment I copied years ago from my friend, Missy) and a pound of M&M’s.  [note:  the limes on this blog are dedicated to the vodka !]  While the discussion was sober, sitting on the deck drinking martinis and eating M&M’s definitely softened the blow of this troubling news.  In the weeks that followed, I got more pink M&M’s than I ever dreamed possible.  My sister’s neighbor gave me the breast cancer awareness M&M’s; my high school friends gave me about 10 lbs of custom “we love you” pink M&M’s and my friend Missy splurged for the $7.00 premium M&M’s.  The vodka is icy cold and surprisingly, tastes very good with a handful of M&M’s. 

As the weeks have gone by, I’ve wondered if all the M&M’s and vodka are taking their toll.  After all…. it’s bad enough having breast cancer; I definitely don’t want to be an alcoholic diabetic with cancer! 

never before have I thought about plastic surgery.  Sure… I have crow’s feet and smile lines, but I’ve always been a big believer in using sunscreen and trying to avoid injecting poison into my forehead.  Now, every week I’m in a plastic surgeon’s office…..a beautiful, perfectly decorated place with every magazine you could ever want to read (far superior to the selection at the dentist’s office, that’s for sure!!).  The mood is more Canyon Ranch than doctor’s office … lovely pitchers of ice water with lemon slices, perfectly appointed bowls of granola bars and pictures everywhere of women with big smiles (and no smile lines).  Were it not for the fact that a cancer diagnosis was the thing that brought me to this office, I would actually enjoy being there!  So……………. at the end of this process, I’m apparently going to have the perky breasts of a 25 year old.  Now I know where I can get the wrinkle-free skin of a 25 year old too! 

My friend Kate sent me flowers the day she heard about my diagnosis.  She told the florist to make sure they were pink.  When I called her to thank her, she told me that at least I had been diagnosed with a cancer with a good color.  She reminded me that not only did she have a rare blood cancer, but said blood cancer had a dull shade of blue as its signature color…………

Word to the wise:  If you’re going to get cancer, you have to get one with a good color!