The feelings I’m having are hard to describe- kind of like a swirling mix of anxiety, fear, grief, and, surprisingly, a bit of excitement. This past month has brought out every emotion imaginable. Even though I have a plan, the weight of the unknown (and a few “oh no, what if?” moments at 3 a.m.) still hangs heavy.

Let me start from the beginning of this month. My oncology surgeon explained that my tumour is small and importantly new (not HER2 and therefore less aggressive) it is not a recurrence as I had feared. That word, new, has never sounded so good. (New boots? Great. New and different tumour? Weirdly… also great) Given that both of my parents passed away from breast cancer, the genetics conversation was front and centre but testing didn’t reveal any of the usual suspects. My doctor said, “Sometimes it comes down to genes science hasn’t discovered yet.” So basically, my DNA is just playing hide and seek with the researchers.

One of the first major decisions was whether to have a single or double mastectomy. I have to have a full mastectomy on the right because I’ve already had radiation, so a lumpectomy isn’t on the table. As for the left side, removing it wouldn’t change my life expectancy or reduce future risk. After a lot of back and forth (and maybe one dramatic conversation with my mirror), I decided to keep the “good one.” She’s earned it.

Then came the lymph node dilemma. During my last surgery, seven nodes were removed. This time, my surgeon warned that due to the previous dissection, she might not be able to find the sentinel nodes. If that happens, I have two choices: remove them all (and risk a lifelong relationship with lymphedema) or take only what she can find and leave the rest. Thankfully, my tumour was caught incredibly early, and the chance of spread is very low. So I decided to go with the “less is more” approach – especially when “more” comes with permanent swelling and compression sleeves.

Next up: reconstruction. At another consult, I met with the plastic surgeon, and let me just say she did not hold back. I walked in feeling pretty okay about how things looked post-radiation and surgery. Honestly, I thought, “Not bad, considering!” But she took one look and went, “Wow… they really did a number on you.” Cue my inner monologue: Um, rude? I thought it looked fine?! She quickly reassured me that she could make it so much better and not “as terrible as it already is,” her words (not mine). I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, sure, it’s not winning any awards, but it’s still my breast…well at least for now.

Anyway, I’ve decided to go with the DIEP flap procedure, which uses tissue from my abdomen to reconstruct the breast. It’s a big surgery with a longer recovery, but the idea of creating something new and beautiful from my own body is pretty incredible and not to mention the unexpected bonus of a flatter stomach. Let’s just say the phrase “free tummy tuck with purchase” has come up more than once. Jokes aside, it really feels like the right choice for me. something that will help me feel more like myself again, in a body that still feels like mine. And after meeting with my plastic surgeon, I have no doubt she’s aiming for nothing short of a masterpiece. “Architectural excellence,” as I like to call it.

My surgery is just three days away. I’m anxious. Of course I am. Even with the best plan in place and amazing doctors on my side, there’s still fear about what’s next. But I also know this: I am strong. I am healthy. I’ve done hard things before and I’ll do this too. I look forward to being cancer-free again and maybe one day I’ll even forget some of the scary parts… though I’m sure my reconstructed boob will always remind me just how wild this chapter was.

More than anything, I feel incredibly grateful for my care team, my friends, my family, and every person who has shown up for me. It truly takes an army. and I’m so lucky to have mine,; complete with laughter, snacks, and people who know exactly when to send the perfect dog meme.