I had my prophylactic bi-lateral mastectomy nine weeks ago. It was a decision I had made about 10 years ago after my gorgeous mum died from breast cancer. 

She spent 10 years fighting this disease, the last five of those in agonizing pain. It is still so heartbreaking for me remembering her in so much pain – this once beautiful and kind person left a shell of her former self.  She had lost her mother to breast cancer also and I figured the odds were now stacked against me. I wasn’t tested for the breast cancer gene, but even if it had come back that I didn’t have the gene, I would have still had the surgery…for peace of mind. 

It wasn’t long after I had met my husband that I told him what I was planning on doing one day (I thought I should at least warn him!). He was extremely supportive and not at all surprised by my decision.  I waited until I had finished breastfeeding my second baby and then started the process.

It was a lot easier than I imagined. I went to my GP in February 2010 and told him I wanted to have my breasts removed.  I expected to have to pick him up off the floor after I said it, but I was surprised when he seemed so compassionate.  He gave me the name of a breast surgeon and I saw her four weeks later.  She went through the procedure with me and asked me if I wanted to wait a while to think things over.  I told her I felt like a ticking time bomb and that this was something I had wanted for 10 years and I just wanted to get on with it.  She told me to have a mammogram and as I had just finished breastfeeding, I had to wait seven months for my milk to dry up before I could have it done.  That was agonizing because I was imaging all sorts of things happening in those seven months!  Finally I had it done and then had to wait for the results.  When they came back clear of any cancer I cried with joy. 

I saw my Plastic Surgeon in August and he booked me in for surgery in October. It was so much quicker than I expected.  I was told I would be in hospital for around 10 days -   I was to have expanders and the lat dorsi procedure, but it wasn’t that that was worrying me.  It was the thought of not being able to see or hold my two little ones!  My husband and I had decided that we would let Harry (3) visit a couple of days after my operation so that he could see I was alright, but we would wait to see how I was before he brought Molly (19 months) in.  As it turned out, Harry was fine seeing me, but my little girl didn’t remember me after four days.  She wouldn’t come near me on the first two visits and spent most of the time hiding in the toilet and poking her little head around the corner to steal quick glances at me.  I was devastated, but tried not to take it personally! 

For a few weeks following the operation, I wondered if I had made a horrible mistake doing this.  The pain from the operation and the drains and the sleepless nights just about wore me down.  I kept collapsing every time I got out of bed and I missed my family, but all of a sudden it got better and here I am!  My husband rode the rollercoaster of emotions with me and would hold my hand and tell me he loved me and gently remind me why I did it in the first place.   One of the things that helped me cope was being so thankful I had done this by choice and didn’t have to have months of treatment following the surgery.

Friends have asked me if it was a hard decision to make.  It wasn’t.  You could almost say it was a matter of life or death and unless you are faced with the prospect of perhaps one day having breast cancer, few people ever really understand why you would go to such lengths.  I was told that there are ‘great treatments out there’ or ‘screening is so much better than it used to be’.  That may be true, but I just have to look at my family and know that I have done the right thing.  To me there was no option.  

While in hospital, I received a card with this written inside:

Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass... It's about learning how to dance in the rain.