Hi @colleenyoung :). Yes, I would make the same decision again. Along with breast cancer in the one breast, I had a benign tumor in the other. The non-cancerous tumor had been there for over 10 years, but interestingly enough, I had recently received a letter from Mayo (before my breast cancer diagnosis) to invite me to a breast cancer study because my type of benign tumor sometimes turns malignant for women. So, no, the decision to go double mastectomy was not difficult for me. My doctors spoke with me several times about a lumpectomy, almost to a point that I felt that's what they recommended. The team did not verbalize this to me, though. Of course, a lumpectomy is much simpler, recovery is easier, reconstruction easier, and percentages of cancer reoccurrence is similar when you compare results of a mastectomy to a lumpectomy. I understood what the team was telling me. . . but they were not going to be the person going to bed every night wondering if another duct was hiding another small tumor. And with dense breasts anyway, it is very difficult (or nearly impossible) to tell the difference between dense tissue and a new breast lump.

So, I asked myself, "Do I really want to live that way??" I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be able to ignore the fact that I'd always be wondering if there was another tumor lurking beneath in those ducts. As it was, my doctors had trouble feeling the tumor in the first place (even when they knew where it was bc of the tests). I had TNBC. I wanted to remove all of the doubt I could for myself. And I wanted a life after it was all over. I didn't want to have to keep checking and worrying if I was missing anything. Because . . . I had missed the first one. Thankfully, the mammogram did not.

The type of reconstruction decision was not difficult for me, either. My body reacts to a fair amount of medications, chemicals, bee stings, etc. I'm one of those people. So, to use anything but my own flesh to reconstruct seemed like my only option. I knew the recovery would not be easy, and I knew I would have scarring, numbness, changes in my body. But I forged ahead.

I've just completed my final revision surgery (almost 2 weeks post-op) . . it's been 2 1/2 years since my cancer diagnosis, and 1 3/4 year since my double mastectomy. I feel relieved this surgery is over. It wasn't difficult, but it was the last piece I needed to "drop". I've been carrying this cancer basket, so-to-speak, and it's been heavy. I think I will always carry the basket itself, because once you've picked up a cancer basket, it becomes part of your accessories for life. But my basket isn't as full anymore. I rather imagine it as a beautiful wicker basket, one that swings on my arm. It's much lighter to carry now. And I'm glad I've "dropped" out some of those last pieces that were still heavier for me to hold. Now, I imagine myself putting in some freshly-cut daisies instead. 🙂

Yes, I would make the same choice again. It is difficult to choose to remove a part of yourself that identifies you as a woman. Of course it is. But my plastic surgeon and her team gave me such a gift. . . the scarring is fading. . . my new breasts are soft and move like normal flesh (because they are). There is some numbness, but there is no pain. :). My new nipples are healing nicely, and within six months, I will reach for the very last piece of this intricate and sometimes very complicated puzzle. . . . I will get my 3D tattoos. :).

There's so much coming at us with a breast cancer diagnosis . . . and we have to make decisions in what seems very little time. Doing your medical research is part of it - but talking to women who've been there is a large part, too. We can't turn back the clock once we've made these decisions that forever alter our lives. Listening to stories from other women can be so very helpful, but in the end, we still have to weigh the choice(s) ourselves. Time, prayer, and support from those whom I trusted were the pillars that gave me the strength and assurance to make the decisions I needed to make. And then I trusted God to give me the courage to follow through with those decisions.

I hope this helps someone out there who is caught in the fray of the breast cancer fabric. You do the best you can. And you keep getting up, until one day, you find yourself standing again. 🙂