You Light Up My Life

"Your breasts light up.”

Having chosen a career in the legal profession, and never having danced as a Vegas showgirl, I never thought to hear those words in reference to my girls.  Unfortunately, those words from my radiologist didn’t mean that I was headed straight for an interview with Oprah or for a stint on “America’s Got Talent.”  (C’mon, you know light-up breasts could totally beat a nine-year-old opera prodigy!)  No, my light-up breasts meant something completely different, something not nearly as exciting or fun.  My light-up breasts meant that it was finally time for me to make a difficult decision regarding cancer treatment.  While dealing with this issue for a year now, my light-up breasts were the smack in the face, if you will, that I needed to have in order to make a life-changing decision.  The decision to have a double mastectomy and reconstruction.

I know many of you already know the history, but if you don’t, here it is in a shortened version:

In the fall of 2009, I found a lump, had a biopsy, and received results that indicated the presence of atypical cells.  On the advice of my doctor, I had the remaining lump tissue removed, and a few days later was the (un)proud new owner of a cancer diagnosis.  DCIS, or Ductal Carcinoma In Situ, to be exact.  Around a month later, I had another surgery to remove two lumps from the other breast, a re-excision of the intial removal site, and a sentinel node biopsy (basically just a removal of a lymph node from under my left arm).  Thankfully, all those tests came back negative for cancerous cells.  Since then, I’ve been going through test after test and meeting with doctor after doctor to determine what I should do, and what plan to follow.

 I’m 30 years old with no history of breast cancer in my family.  I tested negative for the breast cancer gene.  I’m in pretty good shape and except for all of the chips and guacamole I eat, I don’t put bad things in my body.  However, my tests keep showing lots of “white spots,” which I’ve learned means bad things on a MRI film.  So, I have several options: one includes a drug with serious side effects (more on that in a later post); another includes not doing anything and just hoping I don’t get it again, despite the warning signs in my MRI films; and another is major surgery to remove all my breast tissue so my chances of getting cancer again are very small.  I was going with the “let’s just wait it out” option for a while, and hoping that all that gym time and all those vegetables and vitamins would conquer any bad cells floating around in there, but the phrase, “Your breasts light up” changed my outlook.  My glowing knockers knocked me in the head and made me realize that I cannot sit around and hope that I don’t get it again.  I need to do something!  So, with the support of my wonderful family and friends, and on the advice of some amazing doctors, and a whole lot of prayers, I’ve made the decision to have this surgery on November 30, 2010.  

So now, after November 30, the only way my breasts will light up is if Victoria’s Secret comes out with a glow-in-the-dark bra.