Great news...and facing the hard stuff

So there is thinking you will be having a mastectomy, and there is knowing. Today I know. But first, there is very, very good news to share. The results of the PET Scan came yesterday. There is no longer any cancerous activity evident anywhere. A clean sweep. A hugely successful chemo treatment. A fantastic and wonderful result! I heard the news and cried my eyes out. Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! It would be great if this meant a change in treatment course. It does not. Even with this result, they are recommending a single mastectomy, full lymph node dissection and chest wall and neck radiation. This is based on the treatment protocols that they believe are most likely to keep me alive. It could be overkill, but we can't know that right now. In short, the clean scan is great news but not regarded as a guarantee of any kind. There are no guarantees here. Even with the full-bore treatment, the odds of recurrence are high. But we can hope that this won't happen to me because the chemo was as successful as the scan seems to indicate. One thing I think is pretty clear is that the vitamins did not interfere. I believe, based on data from programs that combine chemo and vitamins, that they helped. I think there's a lot of reason to believe them responsible for helping to produce the great chemo results. I am very glad I persisted against advice in this. So, once I get my asthma under control, I can have the surgery. There will be no reconstruction. The type of mastectomy and the need to irradiate make it impossible now and difficult in the future. Could possibly be done after a year if the stars align. I probably won't bother. So, I will be have to embrace being a left-handed Amazon. Too bad I am so right-handed that my arrow shooting will suck. I also hear of women who get their chest tattooed to create art out of loss. Can't really see myself going for the pain of serious tattooing, but you never know.... A lot has been written about the challenge of facing a mastectomy. I'm not sure what I can add. Basically, it sucks. I hate the idea of never wearing anything low-cut, of having to wear a foam boob or be lopsided. I know I'll hate looking down at a scar where my breast used to be. Poor me. Honestly. You should feel sorry for me and send me presents to make it up to me. Really, you should. But, Hell, I'll be there to do the looking. And when I look up from my battered chest, I will see my beautiful kids, my loving husband, my clients, my precious, gorgeous glorious LIFE all around me. The Amazons had it right. A breast is a small sacrifice to make to get what you really want. And with the success of my chemo, it's looking great for getting that. Goooooo life!