Mastectomy. Double mastectomy. I cannot imagine what these words must mean to a woman who has been told that she has breast cancer. I cannot image what feelings these words might evoke for any woman. In late September of last year my young friend Molly (age 34) told me that she had just been diagnosed with Breast Cancer. Over the next several months she went through the relentless gauntlet of medical tests to determine what her treatment plan would be. I was fortunate to maintain contact with her during that time, and to hear first-hand about her experiences. For a while last fall she, and the various specialists she consulted with, weighed the options and the ramifications of treatments and surgeries she might have to face. As she and I talked about these things during our occasional visits, I tried my very best to imagine the feelings she was having. I tried to place myself in the emotional space she was occupying, so that I might develop a type of empathy that would help me understand her better. I never wanted to go down the road of sympathy- because she refused herself the luxury of that emotion, but I did want to understand it all better. Fairly early on in the planning for treatment she knew that would have a double mastectomy. As hard as I tried, I could never imagine how it must have felt to know this surgery was imminent, and what could be going through a young woman’s mind at the thought of it. I think that is something only a woman can feel.
Though we try to understand- and I think there are plenty of men who care about the women in their lives and want to understand and help them in a time like this- this particular surgery has a special significance for the women who are afflicted with this awful disease. I thought about what this would be like for my wife or my daughters, and wondered if I would have the ability to be empathetic and as supportive as I should be. I honestly don’t know. But having Molly share her experience with me, and allowing me to write about it is a gift. It’s a gift because she’s giving me a new depth of understanding about this disease and a new depth of understanding about how we all deal with it. I accept this new knowledge and understanding with gratitude.
About a week and half ago I saw Molly for the first time following her double mastectomy. I have to admit to my own emotional frailty, because as much as I wanted to see her I was privately a bit apprehensive about seeing her following this radical surgery. After all, I’ve known her since she was twelve when she played softball with my daughters and my nieces. I reconnected with her many years later quite by accident. I needed a quick haircut and just by happenstance, I ended up in her chair at Super Cuts. She’s been cutting my hair and being my friend ever since. My wife and I were at her wedding, and I photographed it for her and Jeremy. I did the first photos of her precious daughter and taken many other pictures of her and her family along the way. Intuitively I knew what to expect when I saw her, but still…… . I was even a bit more nervous when she asked me to bring the camera when I came to see her. “Oh god, does she want pictures of the surgery site? Am I up to that?” Well, she didn't exactly want that -but the photos she wanted were just what she and I both needed. I’ll explain.
After about two minutes with her I was just elated. Molly’s story about the week she had surgery, and how she is feeling in the aftermath was truly amazing, and I might even say inspirational. In my earlier stories about Molly I tried to capture some aspect of her experience that doesn’t often get told. She has been pretty open with me about her fears, her anger, her frustrations, and her pain. I’ve written about her loss of control through the six-months of hard chemo therapy, and how she was regaining herself after she ended the rigors of chemo- only to face the double mastectomy. She told me that when she did her last pre-op visit with the surgeons she “lost it”. I’m not exactly sure what that was like, but I know Molly is an emotionally demonstrative person and I’m guessing that if she “lost it” it was probably kind of loud and out there for the world to see. She told me, “I just needed to do that.” After 10 months of anticipation, worry, and anxiety waiting to have your breasts removed, I get that- at least the anxiety part. She went on to say that after that little breakdown, she got herself together and just went through it.
Here’s where it gets amazing. She told me that when she woke up from surgery she felt really at peace with the surgery and herself. She said she knew it was going to be OK, and that she could now really concentrate on getting better- and she was looking forward to the reconstructive work. It was almost like the terroble burden of fear and anxiety was lifted. I’m sure she feels some loss, but she seemed genuinely happy that this phase was over. I didn’t see sorrow or grieving. Everything about her was forward looking- everything was about the future. She even joked about being able to “shop for some new boobs”. She talked about the light-hearted negotiation going on between her and the plastic surgeon over size. She’s always said, “go big- or go home”. We’ll see who wins that battle- but my money is on Molly.
She wanted me to get some pictures of her at this time because she finds it important to “document” her journey. Now that the most radical aspects of her treatment have occurred (The Chemo and the surgery) she truly sees this as a journey. I think she knows that because of all she’s gone through, she able to look down the road towards the rest of her life. She’s still in a lot of pain but she removed her top to reveal a tightly wrapped ace bandage around her chest. The drainage tubes have been removed and she is healing. She also showed her head to me for the first time since January. Her hair has just begun to grow back. I couldn’t help but just feel happy for her- and with her. I did not see a ruined body- I saw a saved life. After all that talk about her surgery, I asked about the Cancer itself. She said the pathology report indicated they have removed it all. She can’t say just yet that she’s totally free of cancer- but it’s looking pretty good! And that’s the best news of all. I have been honored to help her document her journey in both pictures and words. I can't thank her enough for allowing me this view, and for giving me permission to share it with you.
I’m not sure if I’ll do another installment of Molly’s story. If so, there will probably be only one more article- but no more than that. If there is one more, it will likely just be about a brave young woman who has put this terrible year behind her for good, and is now looking forward to resuming a life with her husband, daughter, family and friends. The happiest part of this road so far is seeing that the end of this strange and painful trip through cancer is near- and that she has survived it.
Thanks for looking in.
No comments:
Post a Comment