13 Years, 108 Days, 2 + 6 = 8

Living gratefully today, I have generous appreciation for the good health I have, and I embrace healing and acceptance in those times when my body has faced altering in the hope of improving quality of life and longevity. I am so grateful to my husband Darcy for his support and love through my health issues and surgeries. 

It was thirteen years ago this morning when Darcy, my two intact breasts, and I traveled to United Hospital in St. Paul. The scheduled third surgery to address the cancer in my right breast was a bilateral mastectomy that day. Surgery was "successful" and a couple days later just Darcy and I went home. I was forever changed, and in ways also forever free. 

And 108 days ago, I had a complete hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oopherectomy at our local surgery center. I went home later that day, forever changed again. The jury is still out on where this most recent surgery leaves me and where I find myself as a post-menopausal woman and breast cancer patient currently NED (no evidence of disease).  

I don't usually use the word survivor. It's misleading, until something else kills me. I take this approach to remind myself to be vigilant and to try to live a healthy lifestyle.  Complacency has no place in this cancer patient's world. (Thanks, I needed to hear that again.) 

My sister Mary Jo died of metastatic breast cancer 13 years after her initial diagnosis. My sisters Zita, Leonice, and Aileen have all been diagnosed with cancer and endured surgeries, procedures, and treatment to address the rogue cells in their bodies. Aileen, with the newest diagnosis, just had maintenance treatment the other day. We have a collective story, along with our other three sisters, five brothers, and extended family. And we each have our own story, experiences, perspectives, emotions, fears, and hopes.

My story has me minus eight body parts. Two exterior body parts removed on December 17, 2008. Six internal body parts removed on August 31, 2021. It was infiltrating ductal carcinoma (IDC) and ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) that caused a decision to be needed regarding my breasts and their continued existence. 

Atypical complex hyperplasia in my uterus led to the recommendation for recent surgery (which I dubbed the "6-for-1 deal"). Humor helps take the edge off of the loss.

When I woke up from my mastectomies thirteen years ago, one of the first things I did was look down at my flat chest. The healing and acceptance started then and there. 

When I woke up post-surgery 108 days ago, I had three small incisions and internal discomfort. Within weeks, the incisions were healed and I had returned to my normal level of activity. Physical healing came fairly quickly. I am still grappling with the rest of it and seeking acceptance that is more elusive than the kind that came 13 years ago. 

The grief for the loss of my breasts has dulled. I went on to run 12 more marathons. I went on to accept and appreciate my choices and my new chest terrain. My scars are beautiful reminders of strength and healing.The grief for my recent loss of body parts is fresh and fluctuating. Writing helps. Thank you for reading. Cancer sucks. Today is a gift.