My next VIP Mutant, Jo Pratt, was indeed my first BRCA Buddy. A Brit Expat living in Florida, Jo demonstrated to me that BRCA and friendship knows no bounds. She shares her experiences of testing positive for BRCA and swiftly opting for the chop. Jo, thank you a million times for helping me through my journey.
I was on the way to my first Genetic Counselling appointment when I turned to my husband and said “If I test positive for the BRCA mutation, they’ll have to go – my boobs aren’t worth my life”. Well would you know it, a month later on a stormy morning in May the results were in and I had indeed inherited BRCA2.
Fast forward to September of the same year, after months of frantic googling, Dr’s appointments, blood tests and imaging I was prepped, primed and shaking in my compression socks as I entered the operating theatre. Here I was embarking on my very first surgery, a Bilateral Skin Sparing Double Mastectomy with Expanders placed over the muscle. I was coached up to this point by fellow BRCA & Cancer patients who had already undergone this first step, I kept repeating to myself “You need to be brave now” and whilst everything from this point on is completely out of my control I knew this was going to change my life and change it for the better.
I woke up from what felt like a great night’s sleep and the relief washed over me – I’m alive! I then froze, waiting to feel for any pain or discomfort, I focused my attention on my chest only to feel some tightness and aching, easily managed it was another huge relief.
Next, I needed to take a look below my gown, my hands still hooked up to monitors I waited for my nurse to turn away. I lifted the gown and found my chest totally flat with only white gauze and clear tape covering my new scars (this very moment that keep me up at night, worried I’d freak out and come to regret it). I was pleasantly surprised to find myself thinking “Cool, were starting from scratch”, another wave of relief washed over me.
Soon after arriving in my recovery suite I waved my husband into the room, he’d been receiving text messages throughout from my surgeons of which he was relaying on to my family, eagerly awaiting updates from the UK. His voice was filled with concern and worry, “Hello you”, I beamed at him exclaiming “I did it and I’m ok”. How funny that at the most vulnerable times in our life we still care to reassure others. That evening we celebrated my first post-surgery bathroom trip, I indulged on surprisingly tasty hospital food and video called home. I got my first lesson in drain care, wound management and medication dosages and timings all before I checked out the next morning.
The weeks the followed were up and down, no less than 6 hours after arriving home my arms and neck developed a hot burning rash – one trip to ER, a steroid shot and a dose of Benadryl later I was home applying ice packs to my arms and feeling totally wiped out. Thankfully, after a week of gentle shuffling around the house, frequent trips to the mirror just to take another look and multiple romcom movies l started to feel my energy returning.
My chest continued to ache, my drain sites were sore and would sting like hell if I didn’t apply enough pressure when flushing them but I was so damn proud of myself for just getting on with it. By week two I was able to walk slowly around the block, Dr’s appointments brought more good news – a clear pathology report, and we celebrated that day by grabbing lunch on the way home and dining in with my two remaining drains hanging out under my shirt.
The more I did in the day the more I paid for it later, my ambitious little flat chested self, wanted to run before she would walk and I found myself back in the Dr’s office with a slight separation at my scar site just two weeks later. Thankfully with a course of antibiotics, advanced dressing and strict orders to rest my scar healed perfectly. It’s not to say that within that time I broke down once or twice panicked by
the thought of a raging breast infection but looking back this is all part of who I am today. I know what my body is capable, I know that I am strong and have the ability to move these challenging times and look ahead to the future.
A year later I sit here remembering every last detail as though it were yesterday, I look down at my chest today having received my soft squishy silicone sisters and know that my journey as a BRCA previvor is one I will carry with me for the rest of my life and is not over yet. I am so damn proud of myself and all those who came before and after me fuelled by the same feelings, we cannot let cancer get in the way of our hopes and ambitions for the future.
Merci Beaucoup mon amie BoobsVoyage. Follow Jo @boobsvoyage on Instagram, and pop any comments in the section below.
