I’m the fourth generation of my family to have breast cancer. We have the BRCA1 gene mutation, how lucky for us, huh? Other people inherit attached earlobes or a propensity for good teeth — I get the gene that can cause cancer.
I found the lump while in the shower one day. I was 33 and had 8-month-old twin sons. I ended up having a bilateral mastectomy and six rounds of chemotherapy. For me, chemotherapy wasn’t the nightmare that you see in the movies, but it was pretty darn sucky.
Nonetheless, I felt lucky… lucky that I had my cancer in a time when the doctors know so much, can do so much, and don’t just look at you with pity in their eyes. They fought for me and I fought for my sons. And here I am, 18 months after diagnosis, and my hair is growing and I feel like I kicked cancer’s ass.
And I feel like my sons are even luckier, because by the time they are grown men and have to decide for themselves if they are going to undergo genetic testing to see if they won the BRCA1 mutation in the genetic lottery, science and medicine will know so much MORE.
Maybe it’s a crazy dream, but it keeps me going, the thought that one day they’ll know so much about curing breast cancer that my sons, your sons, and that other guy’s sons will not ever have to have a doctor tell them it’s cancer and look at them with pity in their eyes.
I really like the relaxed format for this entry. You remind me of my Mom (I posted my entry a few days ago), because she told us all the time that she kept on fighting for us, and if it wasn’t for us, that she would’ve given up by then. I’m thankful that even though I don’t know you, that you won the battle, and I’m also grateful that you are helping to make people aware of this through your entry, and also by telling your children about it, because the chain never stops. They will tell more people and then those people will tell others, so by the time it gets back to you from one of your friends, you would’ve made loads of people aware of it. :)