First and foremost, I am going to post this from my bloggy pal and friend IRL KNalani who always provides this disclaimer:
I am NOT an endocrinologist, or any kind of medical professional! This blog does NOT purport to offer medical advice, medical opinions, or recommendations.
Thanks, K. : )
On with the story...
One of my sisters was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. Before you feel sorry for her, let me be clear that she is kicking cancer's ass. So we just cheer from the sidelines instead of being worried or sad. She is so strong and she will beat this.
Because of her diagnosis, the rest of us girls (pun intended) headed to the doc to get a baseline mammogram. I didn't think much of it. Just a simple test, pop it in the file and be done. The end.
It's important to note that I had been a resident of the self-imposed (& diagnosed) looney bin three weeks prior to this appointment. Remember that.
So, I got a little nervous going to the appointment. Your brain goes to bad places, especially if you are currently a mental case. Homie assured me everything would be fine. Okay. Everything will be fine.
The cancer center was remarkable. If there is ever a place that I am happy exists, even if I don't like being there, it's the cancer center in La Jolla. Comforting, welcoming, warm, light and the opposite of a stereotypical hospital. I check in, change into a robe and am taken to a little room where this big machine squishes your boob like a pancake. I didn't look. That procedure does not fall under the "need to know" image category in my brain. Surprisingly, it wasn't a big deal. If you have gone through delivering a small watermelon through your lady parts, a boob pancake is no biggie. Tech says, "We'll let you know within a few days. See you next year!".
I took that as a good sign.
That night at 9pm, I received an email from my doctor. They need to see me as soon as possible.
I FREAK OUT.
Your brain goes to worse places. The only positive was that stress and crap and looney bin first world problems just crumbled and fell away. All I could think about was my husband and my babies and what we would do if this situation did not go well.
I return two days later, and go through the same process. Results: dense breast tissue (genetic) which is hard to see when they take the boobie pancake photos. So some tissue had folded on top of itself in the photos and looked like something serious. It was nothing serious.
Instructions: "self check once a month and see you in a year." Whew.
Believe it or not, this story is not about my boobie pancake. It's about what happened after.
First of all, I was finally discharged from the looney bin. What could have been a real problem made all my ridiculous problems go away. Hallelujah for that. A month in "the bin" was too much and I had had enough.
Secondly, the hospital assigns you a counselor when you get a callback. This person helps you through the process (thank God my process was over quickly) and offers advice and guidance to help you reduce your risk of a breast cancer diagnosis later in life. My counselor was the most knowledgeable, caring, efficient hospital employee I have ever dealt with (other than my doc). In one 10 minute conversation, she not only eased my mind completely but also left me feeling empowered.
This is what she taught me.
What raises my risk (all things I can't control)
I have a relative with breast cancer who was diagnosed under age 50
I was older than 30 when I had my first child
What lowers my risk (things I can't control)
My sister's BRCA genetic test came back negative
No personal or family history of ovarian cancer (my mother died of cervical cancer, but that does not increase my risk)
(TMI ALERT!) Auntie Flo didn't come to my house for the first time until a lot later than most of my friends
(things I CAN control)
Not smoking
Exercising 3-4 times per week
Maintaining a healthy weight
Not boozing it up regularly
So, all of these reasons make sense on paper but I didn't understand the period part (why it mattered) and the part about having kids late in life. I learned that each time you have a period, you have a hormone surge, and that surge is like an estrogen assault on your body. When it comes to breast cancer, that "assault" is not good for you. So if you started your periods late, you have been "assaulted" less times than others your age. Now, on the flip side, having a child after you are 35 increases your risk because breast cells grow rapidly during pregnancy. If you are older your chances of having genetically damaged cells is high, so when you get pregnant those cells reproduce, creating more damaged cells. If you knocked those babies out when you were 20, your odds of having genetic damage was much lower, so you probably only had good cells reproduced. One other thing I thought was equally awesome and ridiculous was that if you are pregnant many times in your life, your risk is greatly lowered. Why? Because you had less periods. So, I will say what I know you're thinking. Michelle Duggar will probably never get breast cancer. Lucky lady! ; )
Another A-Ha! moment during our chat was when we talked about exercise. I know it's better for you, but I just felt like it was a common doctor schpeel that you need to workout. Nope. Turns out fat cells PRODUCE estrogen, so if you happen to be carrying some extra pounds, those extra cells tagging along are creating more of an "assault" on your body than someone who has a lighter load. Information broken down like that helps me process it better and see direct results from getting my butt out for a walk. That's just me, but it has certainly given me incentive to turn down the late night Oreo binge. This was the item that really left me feeling empowered. Some things I can't control but many things I can.
I will also be attending one (of many) free classes and seminars at the cancer center. Healthy eating, cooking classes, monthly seminars to reduce your risk. All of which I will recap here.
Bottom line:
I don't care how old you are. Go get a baseline mammogram. I am 39. My sister is 47. That is very young for a breast cancer diagnosis. Go get checked.
Soapbox dismount!
Please share any knowledge you've gathered in the comments below. I know I've barely scratched the surface and I'm still learning more myself. If you have knowledge/experience in this area, please share!
Sarah
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