Thank you so much for referring to my recent article and for quoting part of it. I appreciate the impact my words have had on you.
Thank you for sharing about your physical and emotional scars. Losing one's mom to breast cancer is awful beyond words, and you honestly share about this in your wonderful blog and your beautifully written books. Then getting diagnosed yourself is another horror. I'm saddened by all you've endured.
I know I've written about my physical and emotional scars in the piece you referenced, so I'm going to share about what I didn't capture in that post. Regarding physical scars, my first surgeon was a breast conservationist who loved lumpectomies over mastectomies. When I first was diagnosed, I wanted to keep my breast, so I went with the lumpectomy and radiation -- chemo simultaneously with radiation. But he didn't get clean margins, so I underwent another lumpectomy. Totally disfigured. Then five years later, a scare and another lumpectomy. At that point, with a history of breast cancer and subsequent false alarms, I told him a double mastectomy was in the cards for me. He disagreed, so I fired him. I hired one mastectomy surgeon and two microsurgeons. I got a double mastectomy with DIEP flap reconstruction.
Regarding the many physical scars from my DIEP flap, the one I dislike the most is the one where my original belly button was housed. The new belly button is not nearly as nice as the one I was born with. But I am grateful to be alive, so I try not to think too much about it.
The emotional scars for me, as you know, outweigh the physical ones. Fear of recurrence and body pains, anxiety that sometimes seems unexplained, depression, etc. I'm so lucky, though. I have an awestome psychotherapist who can talk me through anything, and I have a psychiatrist who has me on a medication regimen that allows me to live a full, content life. I do have horrible days, but they are much fewer than the good days. The key has been that I've done the very hard work of assembling a team that can attend to my psychological needs. As in medicine, I've hit a few duds, but I finally found my psyche team.
Thank you for writing this important post. Psychological cracks -- the unseen kind -- fascinate me, too. Thanks again for referring to my post. I appreciate it.
Yes, your piece made an impact, so thank YOU, and you're welcome. Happy to mention it and offer the quote.
The cancer experience is wretched, and I'm sorry you've had to experience so much trauma and lingering fallout. I know I've said it before, but I'm so glad you have an excellent psyche team in place, and have been able to get the support you deserve. The emotional scars can be so difficult to deal with, and the physical ones aren't easy either. Mirrors don't allow us to forget.
Thank you for your supportive words regarding my mother and about my writing, too. You're so kind. I appreciate you.
Hi Nancy, I could really use some of that resin to fill in my many cracks and scars! I wish it could also fill in my emotional scars as well. I don't know which of the two disturb me more. The physical scars are a constant reminder of troubling painful times, but the emotional scars are also and run much deeper. I agree with everything you said so I won't repeat all of it but I sometimes feel that my body is one giant scar of one kind or another. Of course it's easier than it was a few yrs back but those scars never fully go away. Not even close. And I honestly don't know how to deal with that at this point.
Hi Donna, it is so difficult to cope after such trauma. I think that emotional scars heal much more slowly than physical ones. All you can do is live one day at a time and one moment at a time.
Yes, some magic resin would come in handy, wouldn't it? Sometimes, it is hard to know which type of scar is more disturbing. Depends on the day, I guess. Your point about sometimes feeling that your body is one giant scar says a lot and sure resonates. I'm sorry you've had so much to deal with. And then, there was your mother's experience, too. Like Beth said, we just have to live and deal with stuff one day at a time. Thank you for sharing. I appreciate you.
Oh, gosh, you are still in full, active recovery mode. I hope your surgery went well and you are doing alright. It's a lot to go through and process mentally as well as physically. My best to you as you continue to heal and recover. Thank you for sharing. I appreciate you.
You're right Nancy, the emotional scars are harder to talk about than the physical ones. I have a physical scar just below my bikini line (not that I've worn a bikini in over 30 years). It's from when I had an ovarian cyst. It was removed along with one of my ovaries when I was twenty. As for emotional scars -- being left alone in Los Angeles when I was seventeen by my mother was a haunting that took decades to leave me, and I still sometimes wince at the pain -- that particular scaring eventually became like a medal from being in a war. A hard-won medal for courage that eventually helped me turn my life around and love myself into completing my education at the age of 35 and gave me a sense of compassion for what it means to be lost and the lonely. To that end, it's not a part of my life that I would change. I too read Beth's article and I love the image of our cracks and broken places being filled with gold and revealing something beautiful to us that wouldn't exist without the cracks . . .
Having that cyst and your ovary removed must've been scary at that young age. And gosh, being left alone in LA when you were only 17 - I'm so sorry you went through that as well. Do you mean your mother abandoned you? Feeling lost and lonely is so hard for anyone, but for a 17 year-old girl - well, that's traumatic indeed. Talk about a long-lasting emotional wound and scar. It's interesting you say you would not change that part of your life. And yes, Beth's article really got me thinking about our cracks, scars, and broken places. Thank you for sharing about such deeply personal things. I appreciate you.
Hi Nancy,
Thank you so much for referring to my recent article and for quoting part of it. I appreciate the impact my words have had on you.
Thank you for sharing about your physical and emotional scars. Losing one's mom to breast cancer is awful beyond words, and you honestly share about this in your wonderful blog and your beautifully written books. Then getting diagnosed yourself is another horror. I'm saddened by all you've endured.
I know I've written about my physical and emotional scars in the piece you referenced, so I'm going to share about what I didn't capture in that post. Regarding physical scars, my first surgeon was a breast conservationist who loved lumpectomies over mastectomies. When I first was diagnosed, I wanted to keep my breast, so I went with the lumpectomy and radiation -- chemo simultaneously with radiation. But he didn't get clean margins, so I underwent another lumpectomy. Totally disfigured. Then five years later, a scare and another lumpectomy. At that point, with a history of breast cancer and subsequent false alarms, I told him a double mastectomy was in the cards for me. He disagreed, so I fired him. I hired one mastectomy surgeon and two microsurgeons. I got a double mastectomy with DIEP flap reconstruction.
Regarding the many physical scars from my DIEP flap, the one I dislike the most is the one where my original belly button was housed. The new belly button is not nearly as nice as the one I was born with. But I am grateful to be alive, so I try not to think too much about it.
The emotional scars for me, as you know, outweigh the physical ones. Fear of recurrence and body pains, anxiety that sometimes seems unexplained, depression, etc. I'm so lucky, though. I have an awestome psychotherapist who can talk me through anything, and I have a psychiatrist who has me on a medication regimen that allows me to live a full, content life. I do have horrible days, but they are much fewer than the good days. The key has been that I've done the very hard work of assembling a team that can attend to my psychological needs. As in medicine, I've hit a few duds, but I finally found my psyche team.
Thank you for writing this important post. Psychological cracks -- the unseen kind -- fascinate me, too. Thanks again for referring to my post. I appreciate it.
Hi Beth,
Yes, your piece made an impact, so thank YOU, and you're welcome. Happy to mention it and offer the quote.
The cancer experience is wretched, and I'm sorry you've had to experience so much trauma and lingering fallout. I know I've said it before, but I'm so glad you have an excellent psyche team in place, and have been able to get the support you deserve. The emotional scars can be so difficult to deal with, and the physical ones aren't easy either. Mirrors don't allow us to forget.
Thank you for your supportive words regarding my mother and about my writing, too. You're so kind. I appreciate you.
Hi Nancy, I could really use some of that resin to fill in my many cracks and scars! I wish it could also fill in my emotional scars as well. I don't know which of the two disturb me more. The physical scars are a constant reminder of troubling painful times, but the emotional scars are also and run much deeper. I agree with everything you said so I won't repeat all of it but I sometimes feel that my body is one giant scar of one kind or another. Of course it's easier than it was a few yrs back but those scars never fully go away. Not even close. And I honestly don't know how to deal with that at this point.
Hi Donna, it is so difficult to cope after such trauma. I think that emotional scars heal much more slowly than physical ones. All you can do is live one day at a time and one moment at a time.
Hi Donna,
Yes, some magic resin would come in handy, wouldn't it? Sometimes, it is hard to know which type of scar is more disturbing. Depends on the day, I guess. Your point about sometimes feeling that your body is one giant scar says a lot and sure resonates. I'm sorry you've had so much to deal with. And then, there was your mother's experience, too. Like Beth said, we just have to live and deal with stuff one day at a time. Thank you for sharing. I appreciate you.
Nancy- still stuck in the physical scar state as I am actively recovering from last week’s second side mastectomy. Everything in its own time . . .
Hi Lessly,
Oh, gosh, you are still in full, active recovery mode. I hope your surgery went well and you are doing alright. It's a lot to go through and process mentally as well as physically. My best to you as you continue to heal and recover. Thank you for sharing. I appreciate you.
You're right Nancy, the emotional scars are harder to talk about than the physical ones. I have a physical scar just below my bikini line (not that I've worn a bikini in over 30 years). It's from when I had an ovarian cyst. It was removed along with one of my ovaries when I was twenty. As for emotional scars -- being left alone in Los Angeles when I was seventeen by my mother was a haunting that took decades to leave me, and I still sometimes wince at the pain -- that particular scaring eventually became like a medal from being in a war. A hard-won medal for courage that eventually helped me turn my life around and love myself into completing my education at the age of 35 and gave me a sense of compassion for what it means to be lost and the lonely. To that end, it's not a part of my life that I would change. I too read Beth's article and I love the image of our cracks and broken places being filled with gold and revealing something beautiful to us that wouldn't exist without the cracks . . .
Hi Stephanie,
Having that cyst and your ovary removed must've been scary at that young age. And gosh, being left alone in LA when you were only 17 - I'm so sorry you went through that as well. Do you mean your mother abandoned you? Feeling lost and lonely is so hard for anyone, but for a 17 year-old girl - well, that's traumatic indeed. Talk about a long-lasting emotional wound and scar. It's interesting you say you would not change that part of your life. And yes, Beth's article really got me thinking about our cracks, scars, and broken places. Thank you for sharing about such deeply personal things. I appreciate you.