Happy Birthday Foobies!

One year ago my boobies turned into foobies.  After I found out about my BRCA+ status, I knew I would do the surgery.  I had people question my decision at the time, but I knew what I wanted to do.  I had already seen my sister have the mastectomy and then go through chemo before going through the reconstruction process.  I knew my options.  I knew that I *could* have just opted for higher surveillance.  I could have gone to my breast surgeon 3 or 4 times a year and I could have had a breast MRI and mammogram every 6 months.  I would worry.  I would feel that weight.  Eventually, I would probably develop the cancer.  There was an 87% chance that I would someday have a doctor tell me, "you have breast cancer".  and then?  THEN, I would go through the mastectomy and the chemo and possible radiation.  What about Etta?  Could I just stop my life?  What if I had 2 or 3 kids by then?  Nope.  I was tested for this gene mutation so that I would be armed with knowledge.  I decided to take charge and I decided that I was okay with losing my breasts. 

And I did.  One year ago, I was anxious about surgery, but completely at peace with my decision.  I remember waking up from surgery.  I remember the pain, of course.  I mean, how does one breathe with an elephant on their chest?  But, what I most remember is the overwhelming sense of RELIEF.  I had done it!  I had reduced my risk of breast cancer from 87% to less than 2%.  I spent a few weeks recovering, but overall, my recovery was easy.  I was surprised by how quickly I bounced back.  How quickly I felt "normal" again.  By mid March, it was all over.  I had gone through the original mastectomy, and I had gone through the expansion process, and the second surgery- "the exchange" (where the plastic surgeon replaced the tissue expanders with more permanent silicone implants).  And now it has been a year.  I still haven't had the nipples reconstructed.  I'm really just not interested in a third surgery (only a 20 minute procedure, but it still involves general anesthesia), and who needs nipple buds anyway?  Seriously!  The beauty of having perfectly perky boobs the rest of your life is that you don't need to wear a bra.  I don't need "headlights" on all the time!  But, I could always change my mind and have it done later.

So, here we are.  One year later and I feel totally normal.  Every once in a while, I have a hard time opening a tight jar or squeezing the baby gate latch, and in the winter, my foobs feel cold, but I have no regrets.  Having the prophylactic mastectomy was absolutely the right decision for me and for my family.

So, happy birthday, foobies!  I wonder if I should get a cake?  ;)

***FOLLOW-UP****

My beautiful friend, Erin, DID make me a cake. You can see it here- http://growingupwenzler.blogspot.com/2011/01/erin-is-awesome.html?m=0