Millie's Story Part 2
What My Decision Has Meant: My Experience with Mastectomies and Reconstruction
When I decided to have a double mastectomy, I felt a mix of fear and relief. It was a big step, but I knew it was the right one. My family history weighed heavily on my decision, and I didn’t want to live in constant fear, waiting for the next scan to reveal bad news or show the cancer was in the other breast.
The Mastectomy Process vs. Lumpectomy with Radiation
The surgery process was honestly overwhelming. There were many visits with my breast and plastic surgeons, and the month between my biopsy and surgery felt long. I worried that cancer might be growing or spreading while I waited, but I knew this approach was right for me.
Choosing mastectomies meant I could avoid radiation. I had seen two friends go through radiation and live with long-term side effects. Although radiation saved their lives, its lasting impacts were often debilitating. I also wasn’t a candidate for chemotherapy since my cancer was isolated to the duct and had not invaded the surrounding tissue. Knowing women who had chosen lumpectomies with radiation only to have their cancer return reinforced my decision. My mom and grandmother had both succeeded with mastectomies, which gave me confidence.
I leaned on my family and friends every step of the way. I called my friend, a pathologist, then my sister to ask whether I should tell my daughter. My husband, who is ever optimistic, was shocked by my news, and I gradually shared it with close friends and family. I wanted to hide it at first, I was scared. It felt as though my life had split in two: before cancer and after. I used to feel invincible; now, I felt vulnerable, asking myself, "Will I be okay?"
The Day of the Surgery
Waking up from surgery, I knew I had changed forever. Thankfully, because my cancer was caught early, I was eligible for a skin and nipple-sparing mastectomy. This was a huge relief. My surgeon placed tissue expanders under the muscle to stretch the skin in preparation for permanent implants. The physical pain was real but manageable, and looking down at my chest, I felt a mix of disbelief and readiness. After years of wondering if I would get it, and fearing cancer, I finally felt in some control of my future.
Angels in My Life
My “angels” helped me through this time in ways I never expected. Someone I never expected to know, Jackie, a woman I met through my hairdresser, became one of them. She had the exact type of cancer, the same surgeon, and the same plastic surgeon. Jackie came over the day I got my diagnosis, openly shared her experience, and even showed me her reconstruction results. She brought me music for surgery, a Zen box of incense and balm for recovery, and helped me on my first walk outside after surgery.
My daughter traveled from Northern California, my husband had a friend stay with him during the six-and-a-half-hour surgery, and my sister came by every day after work for a month, caring for me in countless ways. My brother made us dinner and came by to check on me and also went with my husband to his physical therapy appointments. My friends and neighbors provided meals, walked our dog, and my sister-in-law washed my hair when I couldn't shower or raise my arms. I was grateful for each act of kindness. My new friend helped me with this too, my first impulse was to refuse help and Jackie told me that “people want to help you” and it helped me to let go of that control and accept help.
Living with Expanders
The tissue expanders were uncomfortable, feeling tight and slightly unnatural, but I knew they were necessary. Every few weeks, I’d go in for “fills” to gradually stretch the skin. It was a slow process, and emotionally challenging. My breasts looked and felt different; there was numbness despite keeping my skin and nipples. During this phase, we relocated to Northern California, remodeled our home, and I even played water volleyball with the expanders. They felt odd, like square pegs in round spaces, but I kept my eyes on the goal.
Permanent Implants: The Final Step
Six months after my mastectomies, I had surgery to replace the expanders with permanent implants. This was a huge day. Waking up, I felt more whole, like I was finally closing a chapter. My plastic surgeon, Dr. Hurvitz, described the implants as feeling "like slipping on a silk shirt," and he was right. Though it wasn’t the same as having my original breasts, I felt I had regained a part of myself. Despite my optimism, I remained cautiously hopeful, grateful for early detection and treatment with a low chance of recurrence.
Recovery from this second surgery was easier; my body had already endured the hardest part. Now, it was about reclaiming my sense of self and moving forward.
The Emotional Journey
Emotionally, the journey has been a rollercoaster. Initially, I struggled with the thought that my breasts were no longer “mine.” But over time, I learned to appreciate my body’s resilience. Living with the fear of cancer while hoping it won’t return has changed me. The mastectomies and reconstruction weren’t easy, but they empowered me, allowing me to take control of my health and give myself the best chance to live a full life with my family and friends.
Stay tuned for Part 3: Reclaiming Wellness and Positivity and Looking to the Future
Stay tuned for the next part of my journey, where I dive into the importance of rechecks, building a healthy lifestyle, and finding ways to stay positive through it all. Each day is a chance to honor my health and keep moving forward with strength and optimism.