It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...October

Since tomorrow is October 1, and officially the start of "breast cancer awareness month," it seemed an appropriate opportunity to get in a little bitching and moaning (just a little.)

Facebook is full of uplifting breast cancer stories, research news, and the like - and most of the time I find it interesting/reassuring/informative/entertaining.  But the latest "news" story to make the rounds, and Facebook, is that research is showing that a mastectomy may not necessarily prolong the life of a breast cancer patient any more than a lumpectomy would have.  And the rate of mastectomies is rising in young people, fueled, we are told, by Angelina Jolie's preemptive surgery when she learned she had "THE" gene.

Having had a lumpectomy and then a mastectomy (quick history: diagnosed in 2005 with less aggressive form, lumpectomy & radiation, diagnosed 2008 with LCIS "marker" pre-cancer, diagnosed 2010 invasive on other side, ability to "save" breast uncertain) I can say that all of these stories should come with a giant neon sign that says "THIS MIGHT NOT APPLY TO YOU" and maybe a couple of Ativans with a margarita chaser.

I so don't appreciate a study telling me that the surgery and all the accompanying angst, therapy, reconstructions (I think I'm up to 5 now,) body image nonsense (in that it doesn't make sense that a person is able to literally cut out the cancer and be luckier than a lot of other people who are far sicker but still doesn't feel good about herself - it should make sense, but it doesn't; hence, nonsense) that I did BECAUSE I thought it would help, says that I made the wrong decision.

At any rate, that's how I hear it.  I hear "you silly woman, you should have really, really waited and made absolutely sure before you did this and now you can't undo it."  And almost 5 years later, I still doubt myself.  Looking back, it feels like I had to make a decision, and not take too long about it.  After all, the big thing about cancer is that it grows, and faster than normal cells.  So every day you take to decide might be another day the cancer gets to visit more exotic places in you, like your lungs ("so much fresh air"!) or your liver ("come luxuriate in the hot bile spa!")

How the hell do you know?  You don't.  You don't ever, ever know because every single one of us is different.  We eat differently, we exercise differently, our relationships are different, we stress (or don't) differently.  There are so many factors that it would be impossible to know, FOR SURE, if what I did on June 28, 2010 prolonged my life.  That stupid jerk cancer does not discriminate between people with a "healthy" lifestyle and those who like pasta, and chocolate, and bacon.

Every time I think I've handled the "hardest" part of all this (the decision? the extra surgeries? the "sleep aids?" the side effects every day I take a pill, which will be another 8 years, at least?) I find something else that is going to be harder.  I don't live in a bubble and I don't intend to sever ties with the world of social networking, or cancel my newspaper subscription, or stop watching television.  I'm the only one I have to defend my decision to.   And I have to get comfortable with it. And I don't want that to take 5 more years.

Trying to think like a SURVIVOR is hard work.

Facebook 5-Day Gratitude Challenge

Since a friend had "tagged" me to do one of those gratitude challenges which asks you to list 3 things you're grateful for each day for 5 days, I decided just this once to do it.  But I broke the rules, a little, since I didn't "tag" more people to take the challenge.  Gradually, I become more and more intrigued by the idea that thinking really hard about what I was grateful for, beyond typical things like "I'm grateful I slept until my alarm went off" or "I'm grateful  that my gas tank was not actually empty as I rolled in on fumes to the gas station" reinforced the idea that all in all, there's a lot to be thankful for.

So, reprinted here, with a few edits, is my answer to the 5 day gratitude Facebook challenge:

As much as I'm not a big "get tagged and do something" kind of person, thank you to Lisa Lamster for getting me to post 3 things I'm grateful for - for 5 days. Ordinarily I'd put this kind of stuff in my blog but I've been too busy to write there. So - Day 1:

1. I'm grateful for my husband of 30 years Rod McVeigh for teaching me not only how to fix things and enhance/embrace my inner geek, but for showing me the importance of family; he is a dedicated son, spouse, father, and brother.

2. I'm grateful for my dad Arthur Bernstein (who isn't on Facebook but if he was he'd have more friends than me!) If I have one fourth of his sense of humor, his compassion, and his common sense and even a smidgen of his faith, and it continues with Andrew McVeigh, Alex McVeigh, and Ari McVeigh, that would be pretty awesome.

3. I'm grateful for my in-laws Tom and Maggie McVeigh. Never once have I felt like a "daughter-in-law." I have always felt like a member of the family and I have always felt appreciated. I know how rare that is.

Gratitude Challenge Day 2:

1. Although not my favorite day (because it's the longest day of my workweek) I am grateful for Monday...and Tuesday...and Wednesday...all the days, all the weeks, all the months, and all the years. I'm pretty sure I spent a lot of time not being grateful enough, but I sure am now.

2. I'm grateful for my friends who put up with a bit 'o crazy and still stick around. You teach me how to be a friend and let me practice on you And bonus points for those who have gone to various doctors with me when Rod can't make it. That's a special kind of devoted.

3. I still have no idea what I did to deserve my amazing "job" and the tremendous satisfaction I get from doing it (most days.) But I'm grateful to all of the people who work with me, both professionals and lay leaders. I couldn't do it without you.

Gratitude Challenge, Day 3:

1. I'm grateful that my breast cancer was caught early - twice. It might still be lurking, but each day that passes I dwell on it just a little less. There's a victory in there somewhere.
2. I'm grateful that I have doctors who do their jobs well. From the surgeons and oncologist to the other medical/dental professionals who I've been lucky enough to find along the way, they continue to care for me with kindness and skill. And I cannot overstate the importance of decent health insurance. I don't know where I'd be without it.
3. I'm grateful that I have places to go and things to do, even though I might complain and you tell me I look "tired." Probably I am tired, but I'm never bored. 

Gratitude Challenge, Day 4:

1. I'm grateful for my daughter-in-law, Jackie D'Arminio. She's smart, she's sassy, she asks for (and sometimes even takes) my advice, and she loves my son. (I told you she's smart!) And she writes a really cool blog at jackieandthefarmbox.blogspot.com.

2. I'm grateful that my boys (none of whom are still, technically, "boys,") continue to say "I love you." And they mean it. AND it comes with hugs and kisses.

3. I'm grateful that Andrew and Jackie entrusted me with the TEMPORARY custody of two of the softest creatures on the planet, twin chinchilla boys named Mario and Luigi. These little guys have cheered me up through a lot of down times. 

Gratitude Challenge, Day 5:

1. I’m grateful that my boys eat lots of different foods, and to my husband, Rod McVeigh, who made this possible by encouraging them to try things from an early age. He shared his multicultural upbringing and love of “exotic” delicacies with us all. I am additionally grateful that somehow my children do not have food allergies, and have boundless admiration for all parents who keep their children with food allergies safe and happy on a daily basis.

2. It may sound cliché but I’m grateful to have the chance to say “thank you” not just in these 5 days, but also that my workplace encourages random statements of gratitude the same way we encourage random acts of kindness. It’s not a part of our official mission statement, but it is cultivated and modeled by Rabbi Joel Mosbacher who thanks us all the time. It encourages me to “pay forward” the gratitude.

3. Last but not least (and having come full circle in this endeavor,) I am grateful again to Lisa Lamster for starting me on this 5-day exercise. It has really made me think about all the good things and wonderful people in my life. I hope you know how thankful I am for you all, and I encourage you to pass it along, one way or the other. 

Wanna See 'Em?

I wanted to share a video I saw on Facebook that, as a responsible adult who has a lot of "student" FB friends, I cannot share there.

http://greatergood.me/1ATibab

The preview guarantees you will laugh.  I smiled a bit, but mostly I cried.  (Happy? Sad?  Hard to tell.)  Frankly, I have no idea.  And it looks like all of these people had chemo, which I did not.  I think the one thing people who have no experience with breast cancer will find really funny is the woman who say, "Want to feel them?  Go ahead, feel them!"  


Oddly enough, that's the one thing I would NOT ask people to do, since I don't think they "feel" natural at all.  As a matter of fact, I worry when I hug people that they're going to think "boy, I can really tell those aren't real."

And when I leaned over the back seat of a friend's car to get at something in the "way back", I just couldn't.  The parts of me that would usually flatten a bit and flex and essentially, get out of the way, did not.  I consciously had to readjust my position and try again.  I've already written about bumping into things without realizing it - me and the Roomba.

There ought to be a session of some kind before a mastectomy (not just for people whose friends throw them a party, but for everyone) where you get to feel your real breasts - really feel them, and try to remember what they feel like.  (Maybe make a video.) Also, you should be sure to take a photo to help you remember...

I need something to remind me that what I have now looks better instead of what I'm pretty sure were kind of droopy.  I do not need anything to remember that what I have now is not going to kill me.  That much I know.  BUT, I wish to hell that I could remember what I was, what they were, how I looked, and how they felt.

The only thing missing from this video is "Wanna see 'em?" THAT, I would say to you, any time you want.  If it keeps just one person from feeling afraid to have this potentially life-saving surgery because of what he/she might look like afterward, I can help with that.