Astra understood how I felt but also confirmed that DCIS is referred to as “Stage 0,” a “pre-cancer,” and sometimes, even, a “non-cancer.” It was validating for her to tell me that sometimes a diagnosis of DCIS is even harder than, say, a diagnosis of Stage 1 because it’s not something you can see. It’s not something you can feel. It’s not invasive. Yet, it’s treated exactly like any other breast cancer. The only evidence of it is a few tiny white grains on a grayscale image and a single core needle biopsy. It represents a tiny amount of information upon which very big decisions must be made in a very short period of time.
This is an undated entry in my journal from last year.
A few tiny white grains begot a mastectomy and now second one - only this time, I won't be able to do immediate reconstruction. This, I learned today. It's not what I wanted but it seems it's the only option at this point.
A surgeon will remove my breast on October 8.
All in all, it's not the worst thing that can happen. Shit, a friend of mine just let me know their son died of an accidental overdose. That would be worse.
On the other hand, I'm not sure pain is relative except as to oneself. So, sucks for me.
I'll get through this. Really, I can do this. It'll be bumpy (bad choice of words) but at the end of the road I will be (theoretically) restored. It'll take time, patience, and trust - and I'm not necessarily good with any of those things.
In the meantime, I'll try to amuse myself by designing snarky breast cancer awareness apparel. For example, a pink hoodie that reads "uniboober."
And, maybe I'll eat more ice cream.
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