My BRCA2+ Journey - Part 4
On December 5th, I went into the hospital for my prophylactic bi-lateral pre-pectoral mastectomy. Initially, the morning was calm and I had butterflies in my stomach, but that all changed rather quickly. Without going into the exact details, the hour before my surgery was one of the most stressful situations I’ve been in and was more than a little traumatising, to be honest.
But then I woke up as though it were all just a really bad dream. And thus began the final stage of this journey: the recovery.
I woke up in my hospital bed wearing a compression bra - the bra that I’d have to wear for the next 6 weeks which, while offering the support I needed, featured velcro that regularly left my hair tangled and a zipper that dug into my rib cage. You know that feeling of taking your bra off at the end of your day? Imagine not being able to do that for weeks at a time. I cringe just thinking about it. The worst of it was the large band I had to wear over the top of my new foobs (fake boobs).
Apparently when you receive implant reconstruction after a mastectomy, implants can have a tendency to want to gravitate up towards your collarbone so this band, along with sleeping upright, meant the implants would heal and stay in a place that was more “natural”. Again, the purpose of this band is great, but after 6 weeks of it digging into my armpits, I was so happy to throw it away. I should have burned it, but hindsight is always 20/20, right?
From day one, you’re expected to be doing gentle exercises regularly. Exercises to stretch and strengthen your arms and chest with plenty of walking to keep good blood flow and general movement of the body. Thankfully I was really good at keeping this up and I think that’s why, in addition to the great work by my surgeons, my recovery had zero complications.
The first two weeks of recovery were the hardest and longest two weeks of my life. You don’t realise just how much you use your chest and arms until you can’t. I was left unable to reach for things, lift things, wash my own hair, or even wipe myself after using the toilet. In addition, I had wires and battery packs from my pico bandages and tubes from my surgical drains coming out of me that I had to carry and be mindful of for the whole of the two weeks. This, in addition to the soreness and discomfort, meant that sleeping, the one thing I really needed during this time, was next to impossible.
But then it was over. Having my drains and bandages removed felt like I was finally free - I could wear normal clothes again and start building my strength back.
Honestly the following weeks all felt like a bit of a blur. I had anticipated the physical challenges, but I never expected to be so fatigued and unable to do anything. My brain was hardly able to process information and I felt overwhelmed for weeks. I’m now 3 months post operation, and I sometimes even have days where I even forget that I had the surgery. My brain is mostly back to normal and I’ve adjusted to my new body really well. I’m so grateful for it and the many decades ahead I’ll have with it.
From the outside, I look unchanged. I opted for implants that were the same size and shape as my natural breasts. I’ve been lucky enough to still fit into my old bras, though I’ve come to hate those inserts that are found in so many sports bras and bathing suits. The biggest change to me physically can only be seen by the lucky few who get to see me without my top on (lol). I no longer have nipples or areolas. Instead, I have two horizontal scars across the centre of my foobs and I love them. I’ve always appreciated scars - they’re strangely beautiful reminders of resilience and that’s just what mine are.
The other big change to me that only I know is the lack of sensation. This may change as my recovery continues, but in Ireland, surgical practices aren’t yet to the level of other countries where they are experimenting with nerve grafting and so most of my nerves were removed along with my breast tissue. While I can feel pressure, the more nuanced feelings I’m used to are definitely not the same. For instance, I can’t feel water falling on them in the shower. This last month has been interesting dealing with phantom pains and sensations. There’s a frequent itch I get on the side of my left foob that I just can’t seem to scratch. It almost feels as though it’s underneath my implant.
And that’s been the strangest thing for me to process and really work at - having my brain accept these new parts of me. During the early stages of my recovery, I could so clearly feel my chest wall and in my mind, that’s where my body ended - there wasn’t anything on top of it. As a result, I’ve had to spend time looking at myself in the mirror, holding my foobs, and telling my body and brain that this is a part of me now. I no longer feel my chest wall so much - I can sense that my foobs are there, but it will be a continuous process.
Currently (and for the next many months) my only care is daily massages to keep the implants from hardening and to help break up some scar tissue. I have bits of hard lumps that would be concerning to someone with natural breasts, but knowing it’s only scar tissue is just part of the process of knowing my new foobs.
And so it ends, this crazy, stressful, years-in-the-making experience. I’m so unbelievably happy to be on this side of it. By doing this procedure, it has greatly reduced my chances of getting breast cancer in my life. My risk is now less than the average person.
Thinking back on this time, I’ve realised what a mix of crazy and beautiful emotions it’s raised. In my lowest times, I felt trapped and alone. It’s helped to teach me a lot of humility and patience, which are things I’m still working on. And most importantly, it’s shown me what an amazing community of family and friends I have to support me. The love I felt from everyone’s well wishes, cards, flowers, and gifts really helped me get through it all. Y’all are the best!
Thank you so much for reading my story. If you ever need any support or someone to talk to about your breast care or BRCA diagnosis, please don’t hesitate to contact me. Knowing other people who have gone through this process made it so much easier for me to deal with. You’re not alone.
