At the time of my diagnosis, I was given the option of a single or double mastectomy. There was never any question in my mind that I would choose the double. When it came time for surgery last April, however, my surgeon encouraged me to complete just a single mastectomy at that time and remove the healthy breast later. The idea was that removing both at once would essentially double my risk of infection or complication which could have ultimately delayed radiation. We didn't want to risk a treatment delay for my cancerous side due to something not healing well on my healthy side, so I opted for the single mastectomy with plans to remove the healthy side later. 

I had mixed feelings about when to do this surgery. While I was anxious to get it done and move on, I wasn't really feeling up to another surgery and didn't mind being lopsided as much as I expected. I really wanted to focus on feeling better and getting back to "normal" rather than add on more procedures and appointments. That changed in November when my screening MRI found a suspicious area in my healthy left side that required another biopsy. The biopsy was benign, but the process ripped open emotional wounds that were still pretty fresh to begin with and I decided I was not doing this again.  No more MRI's, no more mammograms, no more biopsies, no more scares. I told Dr. Kong I was ready and we chose spring for the chopping block.

I started the year meeting my new cardiology team and trying some new approaches to my heart issues. Dr. Evanovich placed a loop recorder into my chest to get a better grasp on my rhythm issues. After an unsuccessful trial of a new medication, we seem to have found one that works well. At some point I may have an ablation done, but I'm trying to avoid that if possible. I've struggled with some leg swelling that we haven't really gotten to the bottom of, but we've ruled out the most concerning stuff so that's good enough for me. 

Having a few months to prepare for surgery gave me time to experience a bit of normalcy and complete my 12-week LiveStrong program at the Y. Our group of 11 fighters and survivors ranged in age from 40's-91 with a variety of diagnoses and stages. From our first night together, we gelled and quickly became each other's people...the people who understood each other's fears, frustrations, gratitude and hopes like no one else quite could. I was surrounded by 10 other people who just wanted to be able to walk up a flight of stairs without feeling like they were going to pass out...just like me. Our trainers helped us improve all of our physical performance measurements and trudge through all the emotional baggage we walked in with. They helped me come to terms with where I was at physically but also mentally, encouraging me to acknowledge that I am still in treatment with some nasty meds and will be for a while, that my body needs time to recover, that it may never be the same and that I deserve the same grace I encourage others to give themselves. Gah. 

My parents skipped their yearly stay in Destin last winter while I completed chemo, something I appreciated but felt horrible about. This year the condo owner gave my parents a discount, asking that they use the money to bring me down to visit instead.  Barrett and I were able to sneak away for a quick couple days and despite a calamity of flight issues and crummy weather, it was wonderful to be able to do it. Normalcy.

Work had me back in Florida a few weeks later where I learned a lot at an amazing conference. I was joined by two incredible leaders at Bellin and our colleague at Children's, each of whom I am honored to consider friends. To be surrounded by people who have the same vision, commitment and love for what we do and for each other is incredibly humbling. My Aurora crew will always be my family, but I have an enormous sense of peace about where I am at with my Bellin family, too. Crazy to know God had this plan for me, I am exactly where I belong. 

After much debate, we ended March with a quick trip to Colorado for Easter where we saw the most breathtaking sites and enjoyed cool mornings that turned into warm spring afternoons. The elevation was challenging, but I held my own while hiking through the easier trails of Garden of the Gods and used just a little oxygen when hiking Red Rocks. There were many quiet moments where I just soaked it in and appreciated that I was there and that I was doing something I couldn't have done a few months prior. Taking the trip was not an easy decision, even though we found dirt cheap flights and had hotel points to use. I continue to struggle with balancing making the most out of today because tomorrow isn’t promised, with being prepared for tomorrow and any struggles it may bring. I am so thankful we chose to live (responsibly).

Being able to do these things helps make cancer seem smaller and more distant to me. But cancer has a way of never really letting us fully exhale and forget. Persistent headaches over winter prompted an MRI of my brain that was, as expected, normal. But the phone calls and scheduling and travel to Milwaukee are not just annoying, they are a constant reminder that I'll always be high risk and on alert for spread. And that sucks. I'm thankful to be in the care of a great team that is working hard to keep that from becoming part of my story. The treatment is not easy, but it will be worth it. 

Which brings me to surgery. I had my left mastectomy with a scar revision on my right at Froedtert on Thursday with the incredible Dr. Kong. Outside of a little bleeding that landed me with two drains instead of one, everything went perfectly and I was home by late afternoon. I'm back to recliner sleeping until the drains come out mid-May. I am comfy unless I'm moving around but haven't needed anything more than Tylenol so I can't complain. Shortly before surgery I found a firm area near my right mastectomy scar that is almost certainly fat necrosis from my previous surgery. Dr, Kong felt a small, movable lymph node near this area as well so will take a closer look with ultrasound at my post-op appointment, I have no real concerns for this, and neither does she, but understand why we have to check. After creeping back toward normalcy this winter, it is not easy to be back in this dang chair, but it is different than it was before. This was a risk-reduction strategy rather than a necessity for survival. I like this better.  

I am really anxious to get my final pathology back next week and put an end to this chapter even if I can't close the book for a few years yet. I was given a vacation from my oral chemo for a week prior to surgery and will stay off it until healed. The break has been nice and gives me a glimpse of how much better I'll feel when I'm done with it completely next summer. At the same time, it makes me nervous to not have that weapon right now. As much as I am not looking forward to restarting it and dealing with the side effects, I am looking forward to getting it back in my system to do its job. 

We appreciate all the messages and check-ins and the help we've received from our family and friends once again. 1 in 8. That is the number of women who will have breast cancer in their lifetime. Another young friend/coworker recently started her own battle after a high risk screening program found her tumor. Get your mammograms, investigate any changes or lumps, and if you are part of the 40-50% of the population who have "dense breast tissue," push for better screening. So many of the people involved in my care have commented on the increase in younger women they are seeing get diagnosed, so please do not wait.