I returned the other day to the NYU Clinical Cancer Center where I had my ovaries removed, this time for my biannual visit with my breast doctor.
Despite the relief I feel now in my day-to-day life from having put that surgery behind me, that packed waiting room floods me with sadness and frustration. I want to talk to the other women, to know their stories. But there’s never camaraderie or sharing. Each woman is isolated within her own angst.
I’ve become used to this routine since testing positive for the Breast Cancer 1 (BRCA-1) and BRCA-2 gene mutations in 2005. I stand when my name is called, I don a dark green gown, and I say “yes” when my doctor asks me to confirm that I’m BRCA-positive. I’m not sure why he needs to do this every single time. Perhaps because my BRCA status is my genetic rap sheet and he’s my parole officer, reminding me to keep up with my mammograms and MRIs.
A new study by Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center affirmed once again last month that breast-cancer risk varies widely among women carrying the BRCA-1 and BRCA-2 mutations. Still, steady surveillance is mandatory—it’s that or prophylactic mastectomy, an option I’m not ready for.
I’m on a rotating cycle of one MRI in the spring, a visit with my breast doctor in the summer, a mammogram in the fall, and the doctor again after that. The goal: breasts on display four times a year.
After this latest appointment, which lasted about six minutes, my radar was up as it always is. I got the sense the doctor had bigger things on his mind. And he did: When I exited the exam room, two women around my age were waiting in the hall, both bald, their faces carrying the same look of utter fear.
I wanted to comfort these warrior women, even just to say something, but the walls were up. And then it dawned on me: I need a new attitude. Going to a cancer center when you’re healthy is completely surreal, but I’m one of the lucky ones, with no cancer and a doctor keeping watch.
It’s time to see my incessant breast evaluations as a blessing, not a curse. Still, I barely made it out of the cancer center that bright January day before breaking into sobs.
Comments (2)
I CAN UNDERSTAND HOW YOU FEEL WITH THAT TYPE OF CANCER. i PERSONALLY DIDN’T LIKE GOING FOR MY MAMOGRAM FOR THE FIRST TIME WHEN I TURNED THE BIG 40!BUT I WENT WITH KNOWING THAT IF THEY CAUGHT ANYTHING THAT IT COULD BE TAKEN CARE OF IMMEDIATELY. THEY FOUND A SPOT ON MY LEFT BREAST AT THE 11 O’CLOCK RANGE ON THEIR PICTURES; THEY HAVE BEEN WATCHING IT FOR THE LAST 3 YEARS AND IT HASN’T MOVED OR GROWN AT ALL. BUT THE OTHER DAY I HEARD SOMETHING THAT IS RATHER A SCARY IDEA.THERE IS A NEW TYPE OF BREAST CANCER THAT CAN’T BE SEEN ON ANY MAMOGRAM OR DETECTED BY ANY TESTS. IT’S CALLED INFLAMATORY BREAST CANCER. IT HAS SOME OF THE SAME SYMPTOMS AS THE REGULAR BREAST CANCER DOES, BUT THIS TYPE CAUSES THE BREAST TO BE VERY TENDER AND THEY CAN BE ON BOTH BREASTS AT THE SAME TIME.
SO ALL LADIES OUT THERE TELL YOUR DOCTORS ABOUT THIS AND HAVE THEM CHECK YOU OUT FOR THIS. IT CAN SAVE MORE WOMEN IF WE ALL KNOW ABOUT THIS.
Thanks for writing about this one. After braving many post-cancer check-ups solo, I took a dear friend with me to my last mammogram. It made the whole ordeal much less lonely & cause for celebration when I got the good news!