Betrayed by the Boobs

So maybe my first post was a little salty, a little angry, a little aggressive. But guess what else is aggressive and advanced? This insidious cancer that has made its way into my breast and spread itself to my hip.

I am angry. I am angry that I didn't care enough about me to go to the doctor a month or two earlier. Would it have made a difference, who knows? But I will tell you one thing any amount of time that takes off my life, that this keeps me from watching my kids grow up is too much so I will try to turn that anger against me and the cancer around and try to make sure that it turns into action. I will fight as hard as I can as long as I can and for the results that will enable me to have the life I deserve and will enable me to watch my kids grow into their teen years and beyond.

I want to say that even though my body has birthed three kids, even though it is carrying probably an extra 15-20 lbs. and the boobs aren't quite where they used to be, they are one of my better features. To have them be the cause of such anguish when they have been the cause of such pleasure to others is sad.

When I first got the cancer diagnosis and we sat down with the surgeon, we were going on the fact that the cancer was localized to my breast and at least one lymph node. When the surgeon showed my husband and I photos of a 75-year-old woman's saggy breasts (for sizing reasons only) and promised me that not only the cancer would be removed but I would get a breast reduction and lift, I saw that as a silver lining. It would be like junior year in high school. Perky breasts, perhaps the treatment would shave off a few pounds, who knows maybe we would whip out the medical marijuana. Oh junior year. . . .

 Yes, the treatment wouldn't be easy, I would go bald, I would still have to fight. But it seemed like it was something "fixable" something that would be a bump on the road and I could move past it, move beyond it and move on.

Then we found out the cancer had spread. Surgery is not an option at this point. They are treating the entire body and are hoping that the cancer will just melt away. All of a sudden it was no longer "fixable" it was treatable but it is something that I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. Stage 4 cancer doesn't have that long of a shelf life and to have to say that out loud is heartbreaking.

The doctors are positive, they feel like this can be treated like a chronic condition, but there will always be a follow-up, a new scan, and fear, always fear. There will always be the what if it comes back? and there will always be the chance that the treatment won't work. It is scary as shit.

We got a second opinion, we got a ton of tests and scans. I wouldn't recommend a bone biopsy, it hurts like hell. Any ultrasound should only have a baby on the other side and the fact that they only told me after I showed up for the PET scan that I should avoid touching or holding my children close to me for 24 hours because of possible radiation contamination is beyond frightening. But I did it all and I will continue to do it all until this cancer goes away, melts away, and even though it is probably microscopically elsewhere in my body, I am hoping that the treatments do their job.

So do I feel betrayed by my boobs? You bet. For a year they nourished QT, they fed my Ladies and helped them grow. Now, I am just hoping that they will return to their sad, saggy state, cancer free and in it for the long haul.