The Last Period...

One day, when I was nine years old, I got off the bus, headed into the house and, dropped my backpack at the door.  Since I hated the school restrooms and would often times go a whole day without peeing, I made a beeline for our comfy "powder room" (I love calling it that).  This was my normal routine.  However, on that particular day, I noticed that I was bleeding when I wiped.  Now, I suppose some other nine year old would have freaked.  Not me!  I immediately knew that I had started my cycle and that I was well on my way to becoming a young woman.  I was actually proud and excited!  Since I was a latch key kid, I had to call my mom to tell her.  She freaked out so badly that she lost her keys in the Eckerd's Drug Store.  That was my welcome into womanhood.  Period in the Powder Room and a delayed mother (insert Lifetime movie music).

Fast forward 23 years, I am having my last period.  Even though we loathe and detest the PMS, cramps, pimples, food cravings and all around inconvenience that accompanies Aunt Flo, it is a big part of what has made me a woman.  It's been there - good or bad for over two decades.  Now, because I have the BRCA1 genetic mutation that causes breast and ovarian cancer, I'm having an oophorectomy AND a healthy dose of menopause.  Last year, I had an oophorectomy to ease the symptoms of PCOS.  And now this year...no more ovaries at all.  Not that I ever really thought about gracefully aging but, I suppose I always imagined still having all my parts...now and forever.

I suppose I'm mourning my ovaries (and my breasts) because I won't be able to have any more children.  Not, naturally anyway.  I didn't even want anymore children.  But, now, I kinda do.  Insert cliche  --> "You never know what you've had until it's gone".  Well, I'm ambivalent about the kid thing.  But, I DO know that I don't want to remove my fucking ovary!  Damn!  My breasts are already gone!  How much more of myself do I have to lop off in order to be healthy!  FUUUUUUCK!  What if I sweat profusely?  I already have to wear deodorant without any antiperspirant!  What if my coo-coo no longer gets wet?

Deep breath...

As I reflect over the past twenty three years, I think about my period and how it has been a right of passage, an indicator that I wasn't pregnant, an indicator that I was pregnant, an embarrassment, a hindrance, a comfort, a betrayer and now...an old reliable friend that I must say goodbye to. 

Next week, I will be a 32 year old menopausal woman.  I remember when I was just a nine year old girl wanting so desperately to be older.  Now, I'm older, wanting so desperately to stay young.

Life is funny that way...

Brave...

I used to be an infrequent poster on my blog because I was always grappling with what content to post in the first place.  It was a rare occasion that my thoughts, planning and actions fell into line for a good blog post.  Then, I found out my mother had breast cancer, found out that I have the genetic mutation that causes breast and ovarian cancer, made the decision to have a mastectomy and oophorectomy (ovary removal), I became a PREVIVOR and I had something to write about.

When I had the mastectomy, everything changed.  I suddenly didn't care about sharing recipes or posts about parenting.  I didn't want to empower and inform.  I only wanted to "shelter in place" to endure this whirlwind of emotions that loosing your breasts while watching your mother battle breast cancer whips up.

Some people have called me brave for having a mastectomy as a preventative measure.  Some people have said that I've inspired and encouraged them.  All that makes me feel good.  I really did it because I love life...more specifically my life and I want to be able to enjoy it for as long as possible.  So, I suppose I don't see myself as all that brave because self-preservation was my primary motive.  I just want to be here to experience my amazing family and lovely friends.

My mother is fighting this fucking cancer.  I mean she is grappling with it.  How can I possibly lament loosing my breasts when she is going through this?  I feel guilty.  Now SHE is brave!  It's torturous to know that she is sick.  I love her so much and I just want her to have peace in her mind and healing in her body.  Knowing that she is sick and that there is nothing I can do about it creates a misery within me that I've previously never encountered.  No one loves me like my mama and no one ever will.  My heart quakes even as I write.

Here I am on the heels of another surgery.  This time, I get breast implants, my bulging latissimus muscles get tucked into place (back muscles that were used to reconstruct a breast mound...Google it. It's interesting) and my remaining ovary is going to be removed.  Menopause is knocking on my door begging to come in.  I know it's not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.  However, when I envisioned age 32, that shit wasn't on my radar.  So, I'm being brave again.  Enduring the knife again.  When my linens are clinging to my body after enduring a deluge of night sweat and my personal inferno leads me to the freezer to stand and enjoy the cool air, I will try and remember that I am brave.  I sacrificed the very parts that make me a woman so that I could have a full life with those that I love.

But, I'm brave though...

Giving You the Breasts That I've Got...

DISCLAIMER:  This post contains graphic images.  If you have a weak stomach, you may not want to read all the way through.  Additionally, I am sharing these photos and information to empower, educate and encourage anyone out there who is going through this.  If you know someone that needs to read this, please share it with them.

These days, I spend my time watching ridiculous amounts of television.  I work on organizing my craft studio.  I jot down my goals and plans for the future. I read books, listen to entire albums and force myself to face my fears. That's what you do when you're recovering from a double mastectomy I guess.  You busy yourself with the business of not being busy.

Having to deal with my emotions has proven to be the most difficult task that I've tackled thus far.  The physical pain and discomfort has taken a back seat to my emotions.  They run the gambit.  Fear, joy, disappointment, self-pitty, relief...  I know I have emerged from this experience a changed woman.  This experience has been just as impactful as having a child or getting married.  It has forced me to see myself in a different way.  I've had to redefine what womanhood, sex, identity and self esteem are to me.

One of the many perks of having this surgery has been talking to mom during the day.  I never thought when I was a teenager that my life wouldn't feel balanced if I didn't talk to my mother all the time.  She is currently fighting breast cancer and she NEVER complains.  She meets her challenge head-on with the ferocious intensity of an NFL player.  So, then, how I could I possibly complain?  The answer is, I cannot.  So, I won't.

I have had to dig deeper and love myself MORE to compensate for the challenges you go through when you are learning your new body.  The first time I saw what my breasts looked like, I broke down (and a couple more times after that).  It has been a constant battle grappling with this image everyday.  Then, I think of what cancer patients have to go through and I consider myself lucky.

When I have the second surgery, they won't look like this.  They're be beautiful and perky.  However, this is stage one.  There are tissue expanders in each breast that they will gradually fill-up until I'm my desired cup size.  It's a long process but, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

These tubes are called JP Drains.  They drain all the excess fluids from my surgery sites.  See how they're stitched into my skin?  That's very painful.  Initially, I had 8 drains, now I'm down to two.  The fluid has to be less than 30ccs before they'll remove a drain.  And when they do...let's just say it's not the most pleasant thing.  They tell you to breathe in and out and the second round, they yank it out.  Sigh...

This is where the plastic surgeon used my latissimus muscle, tissue and skin from my back to reconstruct my breasts.  As you can imagine, I sleep in a chair because I can't lay on my back, front, or sides.  

So, as you can see, this process isn't pretty.  It isn't glamorous but, I am fighting BREAST CANCER!  I am #Previvor and I couldn't be more proud of that.

I hope that you share my journey with your sister friends.  It only takes mere moments to check your breasts LIKE THIS.  It only takes one blood test to know if you have these genetic mutations.  Google BRCA tests. No worries, here is a great link, click on it and learn, learn, learn!

Dear Sweetest Thing...

It's 4:16am.  I'm sitting in our dark living room bathed in the light of our flat screen that sits perched atop our mantle.  My body is sore and aching recovering from having some drains removed from both breasts and the two incisions on my back.  I'm feeling emotional and I'm reflecting as a result of a film, Rob the Mob. The movie is centered around a modern day "Bonnie and Clyde" that rob a few Mafia Social clubs.  Their love for each other was so raw.  Even through their life circumstances, their love was the beacon that shined through.  It reminds me of the raw, unconditional love my husband and I share.

This double mastectomy has changed my life and the lives of those around me in ways, I'm sure, we've yet to discover.  Throughout this entire process, there has not been one minute during which I have not being enveloped in love and support.  My constant companion and supporter has been my husband, Terence.  Even as I'm composing this, he is asleep, (rather uncomfortably) on the couch next to me.  He won't leave my side.  Love like that is...beautiful.

He comforts me, he encourages me, he sees beauty where I see flaws.  He lifts me up.  I could list his many, many positive attributes.  I could wax poetic about our bond and our unwavering commitment to each other.  However, instead, right now...I'd like to just use this space to revel in the glow of his love while I bathe in the light of the television in our dark living room.

Grateful for him.

I Accept It All...

When I decided that I would share my mastectomy journey with the world, I don't know what my expectations were.  I'm not certain that I had any expectations.  I just knew that I wanted to share my story in hopes that I would soothe and ease someone's mind.  I wanted mostly to educate, inform and empower women with my story.  I wanted my African American sisters to know how this cancer is more aggressive when it comes to us.  I wanted to be the example, the mouth piece, the very, very vocal spokesperson.

I was so grateful when all the well wishes and prayers started rolling in.  I'm the kind of person that really enjoys helping.  However, I have a really difficult time accepting kindness.  I know that I am worthy of the love and support that I am receiving.  It's just not the easiest thing - letting people do so much for me.

I know most if not all of my supporters are devout Christians.  They tell me that they're praying for me.  That they're standing in the gap for me.  That they're taking me and my family to the alter with them during their worship services.  I cannot express how much I appreciate these prayers.  I consider myself an atheist.  I don't believe in God.  If there is a God, I don't think I believe in the "traditional" sense of what God is.  So, I completely understand when I get those... "I know you're not a believer but...", "You don't have to pray, I'll pray for you...".  It used to really aggravate me until I realized, that they're sharing their faith in order to show me kindness.  I know that folks are expressing their love...in their way.  I WILLINGLY ACCEPT and RESPECT IT ALL!

It may be hard for some to understand how I could live my life with "no faith".  The reality is that I DO have faith.  I have faith in my beautiful family and marvelous friends.  I have faith in mother Earth and the infinite expanse of the universe.  I have faith in mankind.  I know everyone won't agree or like what I feel but, I just wanted to share a little about my mindset and what is getting me through this tough time.

I freely accept all positive energy in the form of prayers, meditations, mentions, shout outs, sisterly talks, brotherly talks, hugs, kisses, art work, songs or WHATEVER!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I'm Rochelle and RoseRedd.  E-mail me at: rosereddsaid@gmail.com

The Date is SET! Bye Bye Boobies.

Yesterday, I found out that my Prophylactic Bi-Lateral Mastectomy (I never tire of typing that, it really is a testament to the dexterity of my fingers) is going to be on MAY 30th.  That means I have 27 days left with my original breasts.  I was so drained yesterday.  I felt relieved, scared, nervous, anxious, angry, sad, happy, pessimistic and optimistic all at the same damn time.  I was intent upon not having "Birthday Surgery".  I didn't want to celebrate my 32nd birthday (June 14th) with a mastectomy for goodness sake!  Then, I remembered, I'm having this done so that I can have many more birthdays!  HELL YEAH to more birthdays!

I had to include this cartoon.  People think what I'm doing is extreme but, when you look at it like this...it's so easy to understand.  As if not wanting breast cancer or ovarian cancer wasn't enough.

So, now, of course, I'm busying myself with lists and chores so that I can be prepared to be incapacitated for a few weeks.  I have an awesome support system and I don't know if I could go through this without them. My husband is beyond amazing.  Had he not brought this test to my attention, I wouldn't even know my status! My most FUN activity that I'm planning is my TA TA TITTIES/BYE BYE BOOBIES party! I don't know why this party has become so important to me.  I guess I just want to give my breasts a proper send off.

Anyway, I hope that you share my journey with your sister friends.  It only takes mere moments to check your breasts LIKE THIS.  It only takes one blood test to know if you have these genetic mutations.  Google BRCA tests. No worries, here is a great link, click on it and learn, learn, learn!

My Boob Journey Continues....

I just learned that there is a name for us women that go through these prophylactic bi-lateral mastectomies due to the BRCA1 or 2 gene mutations.  "Previvor".  At first, I felt bad considering myself a "previvor" because I don't want to diminish in any way the struggles of those brave souls (including my mother) fighting breast cancer directly.  Now that I've thought about it, I like it.  If it does nothing else, it helps to bring awareness and I'm all for that!  So, I'm a PREVIVOR y'all!

Last week on Thursday,  I went to the Breast Care Specialists to discuss my prophylactic bi-lateral mastectomy.    If you're a new reader, you can learn about me testing positive for the BRCA1 genetic mutation here.  I had it all planned out in my mind.  I would have my remaining ovary removed in November '14 and my breast tissue removal and reconstruction done in December '14/January '15.  The good doctor advised me that they would do all three surgeries at once.  So, I would have the bi-lateral mastectomy, breast reconstruction and oophorectomy completed at the same time.  You can imagine how difficult it is to coordinate three surgeon's schedules so, when they're all free to do the procedures, that's when I'll be having the surgeries done.  So, bye-bye plan! Isn't that how life goes anyway?

Since I'll be going through menopause soon, I've decided to design a series of fans for my upcoming hot flashes! LOL!  Stay tuned for those photos.  I'm just trying to find the beauty in all the pain y'all.  Look at how Madame Lazonga transformed this lady's mastectomy scars into a thing of beauty.

I want to share with you something that is very important.  African American women are disproportionately affected by breast cancer.  Often times, we present with more advance stages of breast cancer.  This could be due to a multitude of factors but, one major factor is that we don't go for our annual mammograms and we don't do self-examinations.  For those of us with familial history of, we are largely ignorant of who should have the BRCA test done.

Here is a list of reasons why you should speak to your OBGYN or Internal Medicine doctor about the BRCA test:

• A personal history of breast cancer at age 50 or younger
• A personal history of triple negative breast cancer (breast cancer that is estrogen receptor-negative, progesterone receptor-negative and HER2/neu receptor-negative) 
• A personal or family history of male breast cancer
• A personal or family history of bilateral breast cancer (cancer in both breasts)
• A personal history of ovarian cancer
• A parent, sibling, child, grandparent, grandchild, uncle, aunt, nephew, niece or first cousin diagnosed with breast cancer at age 45 or younger
• A mother, sister, daughter, grandmother, granddaughter, aunt, niece or first cousin diagnosed with ovarian cancer
• A family history of both breast and ovarian cancers on the same side of the family (either mother's or father's side of the family)
• Ashkenazi Jewish heritage and a family history of breast or ovarian cancer

Ta Ta Tittites!

As I mentioned in this post, my mother has breast cancer.  My grandmother also had breast cancer and my great-grandmother had ovarian cancer.  Because of that, I had the BRCA test done.  The BRCA test (pronounced "Brack-a") is a cancer risk and genetic test that will let you know if you have the BRCA1 or BRCA 2 genetic mutations.  The most famous person to have this test is Angelina Jolie. She had a double mastectomy as a result of having the BRCA1 gene mutation.

I did not anticipate having either one of the gene mutations.  I don't know why.  I suppose I am still suffering from that invincible mentality you have in your 20's.  Once needle prick, one scary phone call, and one 2 hour consultation later, I found out that I do have the BRCA1 gene mutation.  After consulting with my medical team and my husband, I decided to have my remaining ovary removed (I had the other one removed due to complications with PCOS) as well as have a double mastectomy.  I should note that I ELECTED to have these surgeries as they dramatically lessen my chances of developing ovarian and breast cancers.  However, there were several other treatment options available to me.

I have been beside myself with upset since I learned of my mother's breast cancer diagnosis.  Finding out that I have the BRCA1 gene mutation and finding out that, that means that I am over 78% more inclined to have breast cancer and over 60% more inclined to have ovarian cancer shook me so violently on the inside.  I started to fall into depression.  I felt hopeless and cursed.

Then, I had to remember that I am not a victim!  There are so many women that are literally fighting cancer right now!  I have been given the gift of prevention!  I am empowered because I have knowledge.  I am fortunate because I have healthcare and a treatment plan.  I am lucky to have a supportive husband and family and friends that love me.

So, now, I get to go through menopause at 32.   Which sucks but, you can't develop ovarian cancer with no ovaries.   Also, my fibroids will shrivel and die...WHOOP!  I get to pick out new boobs.  They'll be perky and sit-up even when I lay on my back!  There are so many silver linings that I can't possibly focus on the clouds.

Please check your breasts.  If you have a family history of breast cancer, please inquire about the BRCA test.  There are so many options for you.  Ignorance is NOT bliss...it's a killer.