Merci!

Great news, I woke up after surgery! I am happily recovering at home and rediscovering daytime television and naps. Of course, I have many people to thank for the role that they played in getting me to this land of sweatpants and everyday luxury (seriously, I now have 7 pillows on my bed).

Thank you to my doctors for their precision, professionalism, and comforting bedside manner. Thank you to the nurses and staff at the Jewish General Hospital for their kindness, concern, humour, encouragement, and conscientious care. Thank you to my friends and family who texted, emailed, and phoned me to offer love and support. I treasure each of those messages. Thank you to friends who have given me rides, brought over delicious food, taken me for walks, and who have come by to sit and have a cup of tea. Thank you to my cousin who came to stay with me after surgery and to my sister who is coming tomorrow to help me with my daughter when she returns from her stay with her grandparents. Thank you to Tina Fey for writing a book that is so funny that it leaves me reaching for my pain medication every time I have a belly laugh.

Thank you especially to my dear friend S.R. who was with me throughout the entire surgical process, who served as my advocate (I needed one), and who slept on uncomfortable chairs to stay by my side. She held my vomit bucket (which I unfortunately used for two days), brushed my hair because I could not raise my arms, and fetched anything that I could not reach (which was pretty much everything). Amazingly, she managed to do all of this while making me feel like we were having a regular conversation at any Montreal hipster bar. The whining, sighing, and occasional moaning from the other patients really added to the hipster bar feel of my hospital room (in fact, I was astonished to find a lack of lumber jack shirts, bad eyeglasses, and ironic moustaches when I peaked around the curtain at the other patients). I know that S.R. wants no accolades, so I will simply quote one of my favourite Weakerthans songs to express my appreciation. Dear S.R., " I know you might roll your eyes at this, but I'm so glad that you exist."

Welcome to 1989...

"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time". --T. S. Eliot

This is my first foray into the world of blogging, but not into the world of breast cancer. My mother was first diagnosed when I was thirteen years old and she died when I was twenty-four. My notion of womanhood has always been intertwined with breast cancer. So, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer two weeks ago, I was instantly transported back to 1989, back to the beginning of my relationship with my breasts, womanhood, and (in many ways) my mother.  In that moment, I started to know.

However, I don't want to stay in 1989 nor do I want to be stuck in a state of knowing; I want to be doing. I will have a bilateral mastectomy at the end of April and then will begin the lengthy process of reconstruction. There is no doubt that this is the right course of action as I have the "breast cancer gene" (BRCA-1) and am considered "high risk." In fact, I have been mentally preparing for this surgery for the last 10 years as the threat of breast cancer was always salient. But, I am completely unprepared for how to negotiate my life as it interacts with my cancer. I have many unanswered questions: How will I tell my 6-year-old daughter about this? How will I occupy my time on my leave from work? Will I look remotely normal? Will I be able to have a casual fling without having to address my medical history before I take my top off?

For me, the most frustrating part of this experience is dealing with the lack of available resources to address my concerns in a way that is appropriate for my stage in life. I did not receive any information pertaining to breast cancer in young women during my debriefing session with a lovely elderly volunteer (and survivor) at the hospital. I started this blog in response to feeling isolated in the context of my breast cancer diagnosis. It is an opportunity for me to write about my life with, despite, and because of breast cancer. I hope that it will be useful to other young women who are in similar situations.