Flat and Proud

"Why are you having breast implants?" The nurse stood at my bedside after my surgery.

I was struggling with the issue since I had initially agreed to have the implants and was still in shock after my double mastectomy.

"I've been wondering that myself," I responded.

I was lying in the hospital bed, feeling alone and confused about taking the implant option. I was still groggy and relying on input from the "experts". Initially I was diagnosed with cancer in my left breast and had agreed to an implant since I was giving public presentations at that time and did not want to be lopsided. During the surgery they discovered cancer in my other breast which resulted in a double mastectomy.

I will always be grateful to that nurse who stood at my bedside and asked that question. She was the only one who challenged my original decision. All other medical or cancer personnel involved encouraged the breast implants, and later, after my decision not to have it, directed me to a store to order "falsies" to enhance my image.

After leaving the hospital and checking out the limitations and discomfort of plastic surgery, my husband and I drove to the suggested store that offered medical supplies for any restorations and was measured for the falsies. I was horrified to learn the cost.

"Medicare will cover everything," I was told.

"So what?  I was going to research this further, especially after another customer stood at the desk requesting a replacement item and was told, "We can't give you one of those. You have to purchase the entire box and Medicare will cover the cost."

My research began and I found inexpensive inserts at Sears. They were not covered by Medicare but I would not be bloating the system by ordering the very expensive inserts from the restorative store. During further investigation I learned about mastectomy swimming suits from Lands End that were far less expensive than those I could order from the store.

I paid out of pocket for everything and felt then, and still do, that I made the right decisions. Within a short time I abandoned the falsies and went flat and proud! Breasts do not define who I am.

Today the CBS Sunday morning show was dedicated to cancer. It covered issues such as research, cures and causes. One segment was of special interest to me. It was the one dealing with women choosing to go flat. So I am not alone. There are other women out there who have made the same choices that I did six years ago.

To make me even more certain, I have since learned that implant surgery is not a "one shot remedy". It is a lifetime of returns to the surgeon with many complications.

I did make the right decision to go flat. I am still me, minus some parts, and I wish I knew the name of that nurse who quietly stood by my hospital bedside and asked me the question that helped save me years of regret.

Whoever and wherever you are, Thank you!

No More One-Size-Fits-All

"There is a spot on your x-ray of your left breast." It was the spring of 2012 and my annual mammogram time. Each year, following doctor's advice, I submitted myself to "squeeze and hold".

Back in 1994 a spot was found on my left breast. Following the research at that time I had a lumpectomy, followed by radiation and 5 years of drug therapy. I continued to be faithful with my yearly screenings, but was still stunned when the radiologist told me that a spot was discovered once again in the same breast. He advised me to make an appointment with a surgeon with no delay. During that appointment, unlike the previous time. I was advised to have a mastectomy.

Still in shock, I proceeded speedily to follow his advice. Another surgeon recommended reconstruction surgery. After all, did I want to be lopsided? My breasts had always been one of my best physical qualities and after many years of life I had become rather attached to them.

During the surgery, cancer was discovered in the other breast. Five days later that breast was removed. During this time I was visited by former cancer patients who gave well-meaning advice, all of which proved to be misguided, if not bogus. I found my own way to purchase less expensive items than they suggested. (Mastectomy swim suits were far cheaper from Lands End, formed bras from Sears rather than the over-priced store recommended by the ladies in pink.). I covered my costs without taxpayer funding through Medicare.

Two people were enormously helpful in my choice to reject the reconstruction surgeries. A sympathetic nurse came into my hospital room and, while tucking in my bed sheets, asked me why I was considering reconstruction surgery.

"I have just been mulling this over", I replied to her question. After the nurse left my room I pondered her question further and asked myself, "Why? Why on earth would I have reconstruction at my age? I could wear the 'stuffed bras' or simply go flat and proud. Also, so very important, I was married to a

man who loved me with or without and he only wanted what was in my best interests.

Later my husband questioned the plastic surgeon thoroughly. We learned about the years, time and pain that was involved in reconstruction surgery. My husband and that wise nurse helped direct me on a safer, saner path.

I got an infection after my two surgeries and needed to have a third one, but, oh, I am eternally grateful I did not opt for the multiple surgeries, time and pain that follow reconstruction. The three surgeries in a month's time were hard enough on me and the years I have left are too precious and too few to waste in a plastic surgeon's office....and, all of this would be covered by taxpayer money.

Today many medical professionals no longer recommend radical measures, unless it is the type of cancer that spreads quickly. It is a "take your time" attitude to make a large medical decision. Less invasive means are available even after the "shock effect" of that "spot on the x-ray" is discovered. Patients are advised on an individual basis.

Change is constant and we must live with that or be in denial. We are advised by the "experts" to do one thing, and then, with more research, there is a change of direction.

Today would I make different decisions? What I do know is that I would take more time, do extensive research, consult several doctors and choose the path that fit my needs with my diagnosis. With the latest available data I might choose to do less, and, for certain, would not even consider reconstruction.

One more thing. Never, never ask me to wear pink!

Losing Parts

When I was young I always thought of myself as living long and healthy. I lived that life style - no smoking, the right foods, minimal drinking, social interactions, exercise, etc. Somewhere in the back of my mind I believed that I would return to the earth someday as a total entity who had always been "me". Perhaps my body could be donated to science, or my organs for transplants.

Suddenly, in my seventies, I began to lose parts. I remember when I lost my appendix I thought, "Oh, my body is no longer complete. How strange". Then, a year later I said bye-bye to my gall bladder. "It is odd but two parts are missing from me. Now, who is 'me'?  I know inside my head I am still the 'me' that I have been acquainted with for the past seventy some years."

A few years passed and I rarely, if ever, thought of those two missing parts. Life was full of living. I had writing to do, presentations to present, llamas to train, a husband to enjoy, friends to visit, family to appreciate, and then, one night in July of 2007, a fire to escape and a life to reclaim.

After the fire, life returned slowly to "normal" with things to do. Then, very abruptly in May of 2011, the doctors discovered, (how should I say that dreaded C word?),  but yes, it was cancer! A few weeks later I was taking my shower before I left for the hospital for surgery. I looked down at my left breast and said, "Goodbye, breast. I am going to miss you. I guess we have had a good run." A few days after that surgery the surgeon came in with the "good news/bad news bit"; left breast fine, cancer found in the right breast; so another surgery, and then home to my patient husband who tended to all of my needs.

I did have to return to the hospital a month later to have an infection taken care of with yet another surgery. All in all, I was wiped out. When my daughter had called to say she was coming to take care of me while I was in the hospital the first time, I tried to talk her out of it. After all, I had two other body parts removed and did very well, thank you. But this time was different, and my daughter knew it would be, and was there for me through the two entire surgery ordeal.

Recovery has been slower than I thought it would be, and my patience has been stretched at times, but things are getting better, slowly and surely. I am learning to pace myself, or my body complains, sometimes quite strongly. And here I am, six months later, with four of my parts missing from this body. So, who am I without some parts? I feel inside as I always have - the me, with my hopes, fears, worries and cares. I had considered reconstruction when I thought I was going to lose one side. I didn't care to be lopsided. But, with both sides gone the decision was simple. I can stay flat. I did get fitted for prosthesis to make myself feel better when I thought I needed to look more like the old me. But, little by little, I faced the world as the latest me - flat. It is simpler, easier and quicker to get ready for the day, including water aerobics. Once in a while I put on the falsies for special occasions, but most of the time I am flat, and proud, and me.