This morning I read about another BRCA sister who lost her
life. She knew she carried a BRCA mutation before she was diagnosed with
cancer, but never opted for any preventive actions. As I read comments from her family and
friends, one stood out to me “No body part is worth dying for.”
No body part is worth dying for. Wow.
When I went in for my bilateral mastectomy at age 22, I had
a 10 month old little boy, Peyton.
I had more than one health care professional remind me (in
various ways: questions, comments, informed consent) that this surgery meant I
would not be able to breast feed Peyton or any future children. This surgery
meant the “equipment” we as women are given to sustain life, I would no longer
have.
My friends and family had their way of reminding me too – “are
you excited for your new boobs?” “How big are you going to go?” “Is it going to
hurt?”
I would say these questions came as a combination of trying
to make conversation, ease my anxiety, and general curiosity and/or
misunderstanding about what a mastectomy is. I wasn’t offended – I just knew I
needed to be open about my experience for them – and for myself too.
From my medical team, the constant reminders were their way
of gauging if I knew what I was getting myself into; there are risks and there’s
no undo button. They wanted to make sure I knew the finality of my decision.
I did. I accepted whatever the outcome would be, because no
body part is worth dying for.
Now some people will say, you only have an “increased risk” –
or my personal favorite “we’re all gonna die of something, someday.” One of
these days the thought in my head will escape. “I’ll trade you the chemotherapy
that’s almost certain in my future, for the peaceful death in your sleep –
deal?”
Of course we’re all gonna die someday – but as my friend
Denise says “If your airplane had an 87% chance of falling out of the sky,
would you get on it?”
We’re all going to die, right. Riiiiiiiight.
If we can do something to prolong our life, maybe see the
milestones of starting a career, getting married, having children, and seeing
our children reach these milestones – why wouldn’t we do it?
No body part is worth dying for.
So no, cutting off my boobs was not “radical”. It was conservative
– a way to preserve my life and health as I know them today.
And planning to remove my fallopian tubes, ovaries, and
uterus at age 35 is “extreme” – extremely smart. As two-thirds of those
diagnosed with ovarian cancer will die from the disease.
And monitoring those organs every six months until that
surgery is not “over the top” – but I can tell you what is “over
the top” – the way I’m going to live the life I have.
In 2017, we are going to give more people control of their
health and their lives by empowering them with lifesaving genetic knowledge. It’s
important to know this information – but to feel empowered and worthy enough to act.
Your life is worth it – No body part is worth dying for.