How to Survive a Menty B breaks down medical trauma and illness-induced PTSD with me, a therapist with both PTSD and a Ph.D.
This is my survival guide, my survival story, and my survivor legacy.
How to Survive a Menty B is a library for people navigating the upheaval of medical trauma and PTSD. Each week, I explore a new topic and dissect the role of medical trauma in daily life and relationships.
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Boobs and Bravery
Medical Trauma Journal
Tuesday 10/12/2021
I am counting down the days to my double mastectomy now. I have more body appreciation today with pictures, wigs, and makeup.
I want to process the loss of my breasts as much as I can before this surgery. I want to remember what I have and why I am losing them. I am choosing to let them go because it may save my life.
So, it’s not out of fear or panic, or suggestion. I am letting them go because I believe this to be the right decision for me and my emotional capacity. And because it makes sense logistically.
I don’t care what the biopsy says. I’m cutting them both off.
The plastic surgeon said that some people wait years for reconstruction so "their life can settle down." Um, what?!?
This is as settled as I get. I'm not working. I live in the forest without any socialization. Covid is still wrecking everything.
I don't know that I have ever been, or will ever be, this available again to have surgery after surgery and recovery period after recovery period. So, let's not put it off; let's do it.
Wednesday 10/13/2021
My bones still hurt, especially later in the day.
Thursday 10/14/2021
I did a biopsy of my right breast yesterday. I woke up so damn early, and it took forever to complete everything.
They brought me in on time, and I changed and did the consent forms. I got the IV placed in less than three tries. A minor miracle these days.
First, we did a breast MRI to start out the procedure. I laid face down with my left breast on a plate and my right breast dangling in the air through a hole. Then they pressed plates against my loose breast like a soft mammogram. I was lying in a swimming position with my breast clamped in, and they were taking me in and out of the MRI to make sure they knew exactly where they were planning on poking.
Then we did the whole thing again with contrast.
Then they numbed my breast and took the samples.
Then back in the MRI to check they did what they needed.
Then do a little more. Then check again.
Then finally, it was done. I had to get cleaned up and get a mammogram to ensure they placed the clip and had a record of its placement. I lost track of needle pokes, images of my insides, and being cold and alone.
Today I am sore. The most annoying thing was that all of this took place close to my nipple, so it's just more sensitive there, anyway.
Saturday 10/16/2021
The biopsy came back benign. No explanation for what showed up on the scan, but there’s nothing problematic there.
I am still doing the bilateral mastectomy.
For one, it's hard to imagine having to do the biopsy part again if I keep it and have another scare. I was so chill about the procedure and getting the results this time because I knew I was throwing my breasts away either way.
The whole thing would have been so dire if I were still trying to justify keeping one. I don't want the anxiety and fear. I don't wish for uneven healing. I don't want it to be much more challenging to reconstruct.
I can't predict anything with this process. So, I am going to be a little more cautious.
I know a primary goal of mine was to preserve my tissue and body parts. And that remains true.
But something needs to take a spot above that on my list. I also have to maintain my sanity, which is getting a little grey.
Preserve life should always stay on my top spot.
Preserve tissue made sense when it made sense.
I have to maintain sanity instead of picking preserve tissue this time.
I don't want any of this. And I never wanted my right breast in play. But it got thrown in the mix suddenly, and I panicked.
I was sure I'd die. I was convinced that something much worse than this hell was starting to happen. I knew it. I expected it. My hope began to dwindle.
I managed it and am ok, but I don't want that low mental place every time I need a scan.
I like matching breasts and don't want to stop until I like how I look again.
And I am trying. I've done a lot of body appreciation this week. I’ll remember being this young and having only a few small scars before the amputation.
Before I don't have breasts anymore.
None.
No breasts.
I don't know how to process this. I just want to imagine that this is saving my life and will finally fucking confirm how much cancer is in there, in either.
And then, I hope someone can tell me I show no evidence of disease. No one has been able to say yet that they don't see anything suspicious and are sure there is no cancer in either breast.
Yes, the biopsy was negative.
But there were two little spots.
And who knows if it's full of secret undetectable cancer sites like the left one was? I don't know.
At least I’ll know soon. And then I can start thinking about what's next for me.
Whatever the answer is will help determine if I need radiation or not.
If so, then fine. I will do what I have to do until someone can say they believe based on the facts that I no longer have cancer.
I am still determining what is next regarding the big picture.
But I'd like to see if I could visit my sister before the end of the year. I haven't seen her in almost two years and have never met her kid.
I still fucking hate this. Cancer. Covid. All of this.
But if I don't have radiation, that can be recovery time, and maybe I will see her for the holidays.
I hope.
Sunday 10/17/2021
I don't know how to recognize myself anymore.
When I look at photos of myself on my phone, I have different hair colors, different makeup, and clothes depending on the season of my life. I look different in most of my photos, but they are all me. As much as I changed, I never changed into anything that isn’t still me.
So, I can't think that losing a chunk of my body would make me any different. It's just how I look. And I have been playing with that for years.
I am indeed still me, despite what my body looks like. And I am indeed still me, no matter how hard I try not to be.
I feel optimistic, and at the same time, I'm tired and in pain today.
My gums are bloody, and my bones hurt. I was cold and wet all night long, just trying to sleep.
These awful night sweats. I had gotten a few nights where it was a little lighter, just waking up damp instead of doused with a bucket of water and put in front of an air conditioner. But the past two nights came back with a fucking vengeance.
And it's wild. I had started thinking that maybe the worst of it was over, that it wasn't so bad.
Tuesday 10/19/2021
Holy shit, I sweat through everything and two couches.
Thursday 10/21/2021
Surgery day!
My mom got into town yesterday evening, so we set her up to watch the cats and headed to the city.
We checked in last night at a cute hotel Matt's cousin set up for us near the surgery center.
Thankfully, the night tsunamis were more like regular night sweats, and I slept. I'm thirsty and hungry this morning, but will get to that after the surgery.
I asked Matt a million times not to forget to bring me a big-ass iced decaf coffee tomorrow ASAP.
We will walk to the surgery center from here, and then it's on.
******
I made it to the Josie Robertson surgery center and checked in. Just waiting to get pulled up to the room.
Things should start to go fast.
I am happy, laughing and making jokes with the receptionists I remember from my previous three surgeries.
I feel good and am confident that everything will go how it is supposed to go today.
Pain and gross shit is coming, but it's not here yet.
Boobs are boobs; we are just changing the stuffing a few times.
So, whatever. Let's fucking do this.
However, should I die today...
Husband, deep down into my achy bones, I love you more than you could ever know. My life with you was well-lived and magical, and I am very grateful for every second.
I had wonderful parents who gave me more than I ever deserved and were perfect role models.
My sister has been my hero and best friend for her entire existence.
My friends are the smartest and best of all.
My cat is my soul mate.
Trust that you were all well-loved by me and that I felt your support no matter what.
I did everything I could, and things went as they were supposed to. Find happiness again.
And since I can't leave it like that in my head, I will shift back to my healthy mindset that these skilled and brilliant doctors will do what they've dedicated their entire life to. They have sacrificed an unknowable amount of their time, energy, relationships, and probably trips and celebrations because they want their job to be saving my life.
So, I'm showing up to do my best and know they will too. All will be well soon, and then I'll be on the other side of this hurdle.
Friday 10/22/2021
I made it home. I am doing well, but tired at the moment.
Same time next week?