Stuck in Human Form

When I was a kid, my favorite symbol was the yellow smiley face. My motto was "Don't worry, be happy." I truly felt like I could cheer up the world by singing Bobby McFerrin's lyrics while wearing my smiley face t-shirt and matching scrunchie. That younger me is so far from who I am now. Nowadays, I will openly admit that black is my favorite color and that I am fascinated by skulls and serial killers. Child-me would have taken a Halloween skull and painted smiley faces and bubble hearts on it. Adult me, however, would do no such thing. I have plenty of skulls and Halloween decorations, but you won't find a smiley face on any of my decor. And the only hearts you'll see are anatomically correct Life changes you. Experiences with death change you. It is important for you to know that life and my experiences losing loved ones did not turn me to the dark side. I was always fascinated with dark things. As a child I tried to talk to ghosts and I pretended to ...

I was the only person in the waiting room. My appointment was early in the morning, and I had arrived 20 minutes early. I had to drive downtown for my biopsy appointment. I had never been to that branch of the hospital and had no idea what traffic would be like, so I gave myself plenty of extra time. The drive was actually very easy. The difficult part was finding the correct building. I only got lost once. Despite trying my best to sound courageous, my voice broke when I asked the desk clerk if I was in the right place. I walked away casually, because I didn't want a complete stranger that I will never see again knowing how nervous I was. I watched the sunrise over the city while I waited for my name to be called. It would have been serene if it weren't for my situation. My thoughts were racing, so reading a magazine or using any of my phone apps was out of the question. Not long after I sat down, loud banging started sounding through the ceiling, coming from the floor...

There was a tumor in my left breast. Nobody had actually said the word, bur the nurse on the phone said there was a something, possibly a dense area of tissue, and I needed to schedule a follow-up mammogram. It had to be a tumor, right? No matter how much palpation I did on my own, I couldn't feel anything, but the mammogram showed that something was there. It wasn't personal error either, my gynecologist had performed a breast exam just one month before and she didn't feel anything. That had to be a good sign. My first mammogram was normal, this one wasn't. I had even let the nurse use extra pressure to be sure there wasn't anything there! But there was  something there. I tried to listen to my heart and hope it was just a cyst. Lots of women get cysts in their breasts that come and go, maybe I was one of those women. Getting an appointment for a follow up mammogram was a breeze. I guess now I was a priority patient, not just some young woman with a bad gene. J...

The machine looks like a xenomorph that had previously taken a 1980's Macintosh computer as a host,  I thought to myself while staring at the mammography machine. It was August of this year, and I was sitting in a large cold room waiting for the nurse. Thankfully I was allowed to keep my clothes on from  the waist down. From the waist up I was wearing a robe that had been stored in an incubator but was now rapidly losing its warmth in the frigid room. I waited about 10 minutes for the nurse to return, and by minute 3 the robe had given up its battle against the cold. I assumed mammography machines preferred cold climates, and started to imagine a small herd of them in Antarctica, floating around on melting ice caps. I wasn't allowed to bring anything into the room other than what I was wearing, and there were no magazines or even medical signs on the wall to read. When my imagination ran out and my anxiety kicked in, I started to fidget with the elastic coil bracelet on my w...

I had never heard of the BRCA mutation before my gynecologist brought it up at my annual appointment in 2016. Years before that appointment, I had listed in my chart that I had lost my mother to breast cancer, but in 2016 I added that I had recently lost a cousin to ovarian cancer. My doctor told me about a blood test that looks for inherited genetic mutations that would make me more likely to get cancer. She said I was considered high risk because of my mom and cousin. Of course I approved the test. I had no idea what I was in for. Ignorance is bliss. That is so incredibly true. My adult years before getting my results now look like a cakewalk. I was a normal 28 year old, with typical plans. I wanted to buy a home, to travel the world. All of that sort of disappeared, bumped to the bottom of my priority list when my results came back positive. I couldn't help but become obsessed with the fact that I would someday have cancer. I needed to make plans for preventive surgeries, I n...

I am 30 years old. I am recovering from a double mastectomy surgery that I underwent after being diagnosed with breast cancer. Soon, I will start injections that will put me into menopause to decrease the likelihood of the breast cancer recurring. If all goes according to plan, next year I will undergo two more surgeries. The first, to get implants in place of where my breasts were. The second, to remove my ovaries and uterus. I have the BRCA2 mutation, which puts me at high risk for several different cancers, in addition to the one I already had. This may all seem a little overwhelming to you, so just imagine how I feel. I will tell you my story, all about everything that has happened, and I'll keep you updated with what is continuing to happen. It is going to be a terrible couple of years. This isn't going to be a feel-good and inspirational blog about my journey. It is going to be a raw emotion, hope it doesn't happen to you blog. I am not a positive thinker, I'm...