Did you know that February is National Cancer Prevention Month? It’s great to have a month dedicated to the awareness of how we can prevent such a horrible disease.
For me however, every day is cancer prevention day. It began ten years ago when I learned I have the BRCA gene mutation, and my risk of breast cancer suddenly skyrocketed to upwards of 85%.
I can clearly remember sitting in the genetic oncologist's office when the doctor confirmed my DNA testing. The doctor was so kind. She sat right next to me at a small conference table. As she gently explained the details of my diagnosis and armed me with the basic information, she also wrote her instructions in longhand on a yellow legal tablet. She knew I was barely grasping every fourth word...breast exams and ultrasounds, blood tests, Tamoxifen, mastectomy, hysterectomy, increased ovarian cancer. As her words filled the air, I looked down to see Brian supportively rubbing my arm, yet I couldn't connect the sensation of his touch on my skin. I was numb.
We left the doctor's office, silently clutching the doctor's notes and a stack of pamphlets. I didn’t even cry. Not sure what to do with ourselves next, Brian and I stopped at the closest bar. Over cocktails, I bitched aloud about my shitty roll of the genetic dice. I had just turned 37.
The tears came later of course. I wallowed in self-pity for a day or two. I felt helpless with the knowledge that at any point, cancer cells could begin to grow in my chest. I had witnessed firsthand my mother’s battle. She had just finished up yet another surgery to remove her second breast with cancer. (It was actually her third instance of cancer but that's another story.) Always the optimist, she pointed out that while nothing could alter my genetics, I could take matters into my own hands. She reminded me I'd feel better if I was in control of IT, rather that IT in control of me. Damn, my mom knew me so well.
I thought of her words and considered maybe the BRCA gene wasn't necessarily all bad news. I couldn't help that I had the predisposition for cancer, but I could decide how I was going to handle my situation. Worrying about it was a waste of time. I can't see the trouble coming. I could only hold myself accountable for decreasing that 85% risk to any number less than that.
I always had wanted to make big changes to my lifestyle but never could find the discipline. All the good intentions I've ever had...eat better, exercise regularly...they never lasted. I could never commit to any long-term goal related to my health. I couldn't even manage to take a multivitamin. I was a crash-dieter and sporadic exerciser at best. Quite frankly, I was lazy. Maybe this was the push I needed.
Aside of my predicament, I thought a lot about my two daughters and their genetic makeup as well. They too could potentially carry the same faulty gene. It became even more of an imperative to emulate a healthy lifestyle for them. I wanted it to be easy and natural no-brainer to eat right and exercise. Not the daily battle I always faced.
Putting my BRCA gene diagnosis into a perspective that it was now more important to consider my daughters’ future, changed my mental positioning. Now, I was a woman on a mission. Instead of hiding in shameful secrecy with my deleterious gene, I owned it. It gave me a direction and now I had a clear goal. I set out to change my life--and hopefully the trajectory of my girls' future as well.
Within weeks of my diagnosis, I had a double mastectomy with reconstruction. I was so fortunate they both occurred on the same operating table. If you didn't know any differently, you may not even have noticed. That decreased my risk significantly.
Then I tackled my health and fitness.
I had to learn what healthy eating looked like. I had to force myself to start exercising regularly for the first time in my life. I began just walking, until I could jog, until I could run. Running my first mile was a huge milestone, and at the same time I was annoyed that I just barely did it. But my enthusiasm bubbled over as I was doing more positive things for myself than I could ever remember.
And while I charged forward with gusto, huge life changes are difficult and require a ton of dedicated, daily focus. I fell off the wagon often, and there were plenty of times when the wagon rolled off into the distance and I had to start all over again.
With the urge to do more, I started raising money for cancer charities. For the Susan G Komen, I earned a Pink Honor Roll Star award for my fundraising, and I was featured in a few newspapers for sharing my story as a “Pre-vivor”; The most rewarding part was as word spread through my circles of friends and acquaintances, I've had many opportunities to coach and support other women who learned they were BRCA gene carriers too.
I never expected this outcome, but the BRCA gene empowered me. I know I wouldn’t be who I am today had I not been dealt this hand. I’ve had to make other agonizing decisions related to my cancer risk since then, but I always remind myself that the consequences of those decisions are never as worse as the risk. My mother would often say how thankful she was that at least I have a fighting chance to not ever hear the words “You have cancer”.
Those three little words just suck. Smart people at the Moffitt Cancer Center are working extremely hard to find a cure so we can remove cancer from our vocabulary. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? My girls are counting on me and I’m doing everything I can to protect them. Just another reason I started this fundraiser. Please donate and let’s work together to eradicate cancer for all of our family and friends forever.
https://www.crowdrise.com/tracys-climb-to-combatcancer/fundraiser/tracyfives
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