Chapter 2 - The Price is Right

So now that I can't get the Janet Jackson song "Control" out of my head, I figured it's time to continue my post. First and foremost, thank you ALL for all the beautiful messages. I can't see how it would be possible to feel sad or defeated after reading all of them. After hearing the news at the doctor's office, we drive straight to get take-out. No cooking was the order from Grant. We make the dreaded phone calls as soon as we finish our dinner. Any generation "X" or "Y" child knows that we like emails and text as communication methods, maybe because we don't know how to verbalize our emotions or we like hiding behind written texts. All I knew was this was NOT text-appropriate. The phone calls began with the parents. Mostly Dad because Mom already knew. I made sure that before I called, I studied the three-ring binder filled with every definition of every type of cancer and "terms you should know."I knew that I would be swamped with questions and maybe tears. I spoke with as much composure as possible and presented the situation as if I was giving a book report to the class. Nothing is more frustrating than knowing your parents are on the other line feeling completely helpless. When I was sad, Dad would take me shopping. When I was angry, Mom would calm me down. But this....what would make them feel helpful now? I could only sound solid and positive, like the child they raised. Raised to look fear in the face and say, "F you!" I said, "guys, don't be sad...that's not what I need right now". I didn't know what I needed at the moment, but it sounded good to say to my parents then.I was so mentally exhausted that I wanted to crawl into bed, but instead, I continued the phone tree to get through telling the story at least five times that night. Honestly, the days following the calls are a bit of a blur, but I remember the crazy roller coaster of emotions. I was genuinely exemplifying the word PMS! Crying and sad one day, not a care in the world the next, and anger to top it all off. Everyone processes things differently, but I hit all of them in one weekend. That Monday began the research process. I'm so grateful to have excellent insurance through Grant's work. The resources available to us were fantastic. On a conference call is me, Grant, a nurse assigned to me, a care coordinator, and a health advisor taking notes to prepare a file for the top one to two percent of doctors to review my case. I was so grateful to have everyone in my corner who didn't know me from Adam. My three-ring binder began filling up with notes and questions to ask the doctors I would be meeting with.The next step was an MRI to see if there were any areas that they may have missed, followed by more ultrasounds and genetic testing, where I got to spit into a tube and mail it off to a lab via FedEx. It is so important to know your family history and family lineage. I know this now after having to text my parents as I'm sitting in a room with a genetics counselor. That's embarrassing..."how old are your parents? How about your second cousin on your mom's side?" All while the huge electronic tree of your family lineage stares at you on the counselor's computer screen. My Dad's parents passed of colon cancer, and two aunts on my maternal side died of breast cancer. One was diagnosed at the same age as me at 36. If you get a chance to have genetic testing to see if you carry one or more of the 27 or so gene mutations that can cause your risk of cancer to increase, I highly recommend it. Even if only for researching your family health tree.MRI and ultrasound results showed three more areas of concern. Meanwhile, I am researching top doctors in the area to start getting second opinions. I found myself in front of Dr. Eisenberg with Hartford Healthcare, who met with us at 3:30 pm on a Friday to review options, statistics, and answer my crazy questions. As he drew on the tissue paper that lines the examination table with drawings of cells and numbers...I realize that this guy is MY doctor. He talked with us until almost 5:00 pm about choices of treatment that included a lumpectomy with radiation and meds and possibly more, including chemo if the new areas of concern test positive...or a double mastectomy. I had already been pondering the choices when he explained how a mastectomy worked and what was behind door number two if I chose to walk through it. At least four weeks out of work, pain, narcotics, hospital stay for two nights or more, fluid drains hanging from my sides for one to two weeks, up to a year until complete recovery if going with reconstruction. I thought to myself on the ride home about my choices: one to two procedures and about four weeks of uncomfortableness or radiation and possibly chemo and poison in my body for five years after, followed by close tests every six months for the rest of my life. To me, the choice was pretty clear...soon after that day, I opted to have the double mastectomy with reconstruction. Let me say, though, that your body is a temple. By no means was the choice I made suitable for everyone who has breast cancer. I have since heard of many women who opted for other solutions, and they are just fine with their choice. I have also met some who wish they chose the other "door." It is a personal choice...period, end of story.I can't help but hear the voice of the tv game show announcer from the "Price is Right" saying, "Stacy, what door do you choose? Mystery door number one, or what's behind door number two???!!"As with any game of chance, you must decide eventually. You hope both doors have an equally grand prize, but all you can do is hope that the door you choose has the desired award and outcome. You will know once you pick it..and then you must accept it in front of the entire studio audience. Some may shake their head in disbelief at what you got for a prize, and other audience members are so happy for you just because you made your choice, and they will pat you on the back as you leave the studio, saying, "way to go, Stac!" Now that I have made my choice, it's up to me what I do with the prize when I get home. I'm choosing to be happy with my award, content with my decision, and face this head-on!! Good night "Team Stacy." XOXO