BC Becky

Never thought I'd want to be a breast cancer survivor

Tag: mets

  • The mixed blessings of support groups

    I have found that support groups are a mixed blessing. I have been going to two face-to-face groups, but also have ‘connected’ support groups on Facebook. The face-to-face and online groups provide different kinds of support, and I find that I need both.

    The online groups provide day-to-day support and often give me quick answers to questions. These are not necessarily the answers to the types of questions you get from your doctors, but rather more real-life suggestions that make it easier to deal with the unknown and help better prepare for what is to come. For example, it never would have occurred to me to rent a hospital bed for a month, to make sleeping after surgery easier. Many people sleep in loungers, and others use wedge pillows. The general problem is that for the first few days after surgery, the ability to sleep horizontal is a challenge. I found this an issue with my port, so I anticipate it to be worse with surgery. So, now we are looking into renting a fully electric hospital bed for a month – which is truly the best of all worlds – they deliver and pick-up, and insurance might actually cover at least part of the cost. It is a much better solution than a lounger (which we don’t need), and will be cheaper too.

    I’ve gone to two face-to-face groups, one for those who are newly diagnosed and in treatment, and another for young people with breast cancer. As I’m an extrovert and know very few people in the area, it is a challenge for me to get enough face-time with real people. So, face-to-face support groups give me energy – they feed me. However, timing is a challenge. The groups meet either Saturday afternoon or a weekday evening. The Saturday afternoon is often better, but as we have discovered camping to be a blessing, we shall try to do more of it, making me miss Saturday afternoon groups. Evening groups are a challenge (at least while on AC chemo) as I cannot drive home afterwards – so I need someone to come and sit for two hours (or longer) while I am in group, as I cannot guarantee that I will be able to drive home afterwards. The other challenge with the evening groups is that being around people gives me energy – then I have a hard time winding down and sleeping afterwards. Given that since chemo I have typically been in bed around 9 – 9:30, groups that often run past 9:30 and are a half hour drive home, making the drive and sleeping difficult.

    Then there is the group itself. In the newly diagnosed and in-treatment group, I’m often the youngest person there. I have a young person cancer, so I often have one of the more aggressive stories (although not always – we have lots of rareness in our group). More interestingly, I can relate to the older women better on a professional level, as many of them are self-employed or professionals.

    The young cancer group is full of inspiring women, but their challenges are different and they often have more aggressive cancers. It is difficult to hear women with metastatic disease speak of their journeys as they learn to accept and not fear death and those with aggressive cancers whose prognosis is in the ‘single digits’. This is much more the case with young women with breast cancer, as young cancers tend to be more aggressive in nature. I’m also one of the oldest people in the group – as I sit at that boundary. Young breast cancer is considered “under 45”, and I’m 43. So I am definitely at the edge. I’m also in a very different place professionally. Given that this is the group that meets in the evening, I find it especially difficult. Last night I came home charged with energy from being around people, but also struggling with depression as the reality of my journey sinks in (I’m thankful I’ll be seeing the cancer psychiatrist tomorrow).

    With this, I’ve come to a difficult decision not to attend the face-to-face young persons groups anymore (at least not for the time being). Although there are many encouraging women in the group, it does not leave me with the feelings I need. It may be doing me more harm than good. I will stay connected with the women through the Facebook group, as I find it a good virtual group, but the face-to-face is just too challenging (it is also the group that meets in the evenings and often runs overtime, so it is too logistically and physically demanding for me at the moment).

    I will make every effort I can to make the Saturday afternoon group. It has been a very supportive group. It is smaller, and rarely runs overtime. Since the group is smaller, we have more time to share and more time to ask questions, so it provides better support for me. I come home from the group feeling energized and generally in a better spirits. So, it is the group that is feeding what I need and not what I don’t. I’m also hoping we can get a Facebook group going, as I’d love the opportunity to connect with these women more outside of the 90-minutes once per week that we meet.

  • My Buddha Belly

    It may sound dumb but one of my biggest worries about not getting reconstruction is that I’ll look funny. I’ll have a flat chest but a buddha belly. I’m more scared about the buddha belly than I am about the flat chest.

    I know my choice for surgery. I know I ‘want’ a double-mastectomy. Want is such an odd word here – need might be more appropriate. I know I do NOT want to be hacked up and left oddly deformed, which is what a breast sparing lumpectomy would do. I also know that I do not want radiation. My skin is so very sensitive, that the idea of radiation burns freaks me out. So, for me, the best option is the double-mastectomy.

    I also know that I do not want to go through 2-3 years of additional surgeries. When you are first diagnosed with breast cancer, the surgeon presents you with one bit of “good news”. That “good news” is that insurance is required to cover reconstruction. What they don’t tell you is that reconstruction is not easy. You are not reconstructing healthy breasts. It isn’t a simple “boob job”. Reconstruction happens after they remove parts (or all) of your breasts, and then use radiation treatments to make sure that the cancer is gone. So they begin reconstruction with less than ideal material – you are not starting with healthy breasts, you are starting with damaged breasts. The reconstruction process can (and usually does) involve several additional surgeries, all done under general anesthetic. Each brings in new risks of infection and complications.

    Maybe, if I had a small mass in one breast, I might opt for a simple cosmetic surgery that in essence evens out my breasts – maybe. But I don’t have that option. I have two areas of cancer in my left breast, one rather large … which doesn’t leave much to work with. Plus I have cancer in the right breast. So radiation would mean radiation on both sides – a double whammy.

    So, for me, the best possible outcome is a single surgery – double-mastectomy with nice clean matching / symmetric scars. No extra lumps and bumps, but nice and flat.

    That much I know. But what scares me is the buddha belly. I have a great body image right now. I’m happy with how I look. I’m pretty sure I’ll still be happy without breasts (they are trying to kill me after all). But the belly … now that might be the challenge. I will need a new identity – perhaps after BCBecky  (Breast Cancer Becky) I will become BBBecky (Buddha Belly Becky).  Maybe if I can find some pride in that identity, I can be happy with my new body image. [i’m laughing through my tears as i write this].

    What also scars me is metastasis. So far, all signs are that I do not have node involvement. We won’t know until after surgery. The first line of treatment for node involvement is chemo – which I’m already doing. The second line is radiation. So, if surgery finds node involvement, I may need radiation (ugh). Once that is determine, we then start to look beyond the breasts for spread. Women can live for years with metastatic disease (like 10 years). Metastatic disease is often treated with chemo that is designed to slow the spread of the disease, but the quality of life with sustaining chemo scars me. Chemo is hard. I can do it now, because I have hope that it means that when I’m done with chemo and surgery that the disease will be gone. I watch other women live with metastatic disease and go through chemo so that they can live a little longer, mostly to watch their children grow up. For them, the pain, the yuckiness of chemo is worth it. I don’t think I could do that. For the first time in my life, I truly appreciate what quality of life means. I cannot see making myself feel awful (chemo) just to live longer feeling awful the whole time. I do not have kids, I do not have a reason to want to hold on. And I could not bare to have Scott see me suffer for years just to live an unhappy life. Now, this isn’t something I need to worry about now. My prognosis doesn’t look like that … from all signs I do not have metastatic disease, but these are thoughts that I do have … and I promised myself when I started this blog that I would write these thoughts and share them, regardless of how difficult they might be read or write.

    So, here is to living a long healthy life as Buddha Belly Becky … whoever that may be!

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