This post originally ran a year ago. I dusted it off because I was looking up medical terms online last night and encountered some photos that brought the old squeamishness back. -Jackie
Patient empowerment is all the rage lately. While I distrust the way the “e” word sometimes verges on ideology, I’m all for learning what’s happening when we get that front row seat to medicine thanks to cancer or another big diagnosis.
But how best to learn if you tend to be medically squeamish? My previous patient experience was limited to an annual visit, with a handful of garden-variety illnesses and the inevitable screening tests required once you hit your 40s and 50s. I’ve never had a problem with those tests, or with needles, but once I learned my breasts were going to be the focus of a cancer adventure I felt a bit queasy.
The thing is, I can’t even stand nipple rings. Back when my husband Bruce and I used to take his Harley to the big bike rally in Sturgis, S.D., I averted my eyes a lot. I found myself doing the same thing now as I loaded up on breast cancer books. How do those DCIS cells act? Sure. An illustration of a nipple floating off into space during a mastectomy? Not so much.
I wanted to know what to expect without getting too much detail, if that makes any sense. So while I learned enough to know I wanted implants instead of tissue replacement surgery for reconstruction, I didn’t read about surgery details, and I couldn’t look at before and after reconstruction photos available online.
I had gone through the mastectomy and first-stage reconstruction before I became curious about things like how my surgeon was able to balance tissue removal and skin preservation during the mastectomy, or how my plastic surgeon was able to recreate a nipple.
Believe it or not, I actually watched him do it, since it only required local anesthetic. If you had asked me five years ago if I wanted to watch myself getting a nipple built, I probably would have yakked on your shoes. But this was my fifth surgery in nine months, so I had gotten used to it. And I’m really glad I watched because it was fascinating.
But that’s me, and it happened over time. You may want every last detail, or you may prefer letting the experience wash over you. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I would recommend learning enough to be able to make an informed treatment choice, and giving yourself enough time to make that choice. Whether you ever learn what they do with those scalpels or watch them do it is totally up to you.
For the record, nipple rings still gross me out.