Cowden’s – Page 24 – beatingcowdens

History – Where it all began

Published on May 1, 2013 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

Yep. That’s what it is. It’s history. The story of our lives for the past year. It started in a small blog I shared only with a few friends. It blossomed into a WordPress blog with 50 followers, and a Facebook group with over 225.

I am humbled really – that anyone is even interested in our story.

I am grateful and excited for what we are doing to raise awareness of rare diseases like our Cowden’s Syndrome.

I wrote my very first blog post on May 9th of 2012.

Very few of you were with me then – but this is where it all began.

For the next two weeks I plan to “replay” some of my favorite/most informative blogs from the early days.

Hope my nostalgia doesn’t drive anyone away!

CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW FOR A TRIP BACK TO MAY OF 2012!

https://beatingcowdens.com/2012/05/09/

All kinds of tests

Published on April 16, 2013 by beatingcowdens5 Comments

So my fourth grader told me today that her State Exam was “tricky,” but she thought she got only 2 wrong.

I have absolutely no idea if her assessment is accurate. I am only grateful that for one afternoon, her anxiety was lower.

Last night before she went to bed, we spoke a lot about testing, and my expectations for her.

As I have said before stress, and chronic illness just don’t mix, so I am careful with my words.

So, I explained to her that her best – regardless of the attached number – will ALWAYS be good enough for her father and I.

Wise beyond her years, she quoted a former teacher who apparently told them, “Your best is good enough for your parents. Your best is good enough for me. Now make sure your best is good enough for you.” This followed by a cheery, “Chill out – You got this!”

As she lay her head down, last night, and tonight, she repeated those words to me.

There really are so many teachers who “get it.” The kids are so much more than any number on a piece of paper.

It is such a challenge being on the parent end of things.

But, at the end of the day, these aren’t the tests that matter to me. Not really.

On Monday the 1st of April there were 13 vials of blood. On Saturday the 6th there were 15 more.

This weekend there was a 24 hour urine test, and 7 more vials of blood before school Monday.

These are the tests that keep me up at night.

These are the tests she has no control over.

These are the tests whose scores really do matter.

Hormones, Thyroid, neurotransmitters, immune function…etc… etc…

The results for the school tests won’t be in until August.

Some time in the next week I will have to deal with this latest lab panel, and determine if we have any new answers, or just more questions.

Perspective is a definite reality check sometimes.

She will go to school and do her best, and I know regardless – she is already successful.

I only wish I could hold onto that same confidence, as I await these lab tests.

The Circle of Three

Published on April 14, 2013 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

My heart and soul. My circle of strength.

A few weeks ago Felix mentioned he might like to have a denim ribbon pendant to wear.

They are modeled off the Global Genes Project logo, “Hope it’s in our genes!”

He wanted to be able to show his support for Meghan and I all the time.

So, we had another one made and I gave it to him for our anniversary.

I didn’t imagine the effect it would have on me.

What a magical thing to see the ones you love most joined with a symbol of support.

Symbols are just symbols I know – but what they symbolize can still be powerful.

Felix gives us the motivation, the strength, and the courage to say “I can.”

He makes us laugh. He holds our hands.

He is as much a part of this Cowden’s Syndrome journey as we are.

We are three but we are one.

Now, near or far we remain connected.

There are no “superpowers” in these denim ribbons…

Well, unless you count LOVE, GRATITUDE, COURAGE, STRENGTH, and HOPE!

Our Digital Footprint

Published on April 13, 2013 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

Tomorrow Felix and I will be married 13 years. While in some ways 13 years seems like a long time – in other ways I sparsely remember that there was life before I married my best friend.

And as compatible as we are, anyone who knows us is aware that we are as different as day and night in so many ways. One of those ways is the internet.

I facebook. I blog. I Email. I communicate with people I know well, and people I have never met. He doesn’t. He communicates live and in person (and sometimes on the phone) with the small circle of people he loves.

In the world of digital footprints, I have to imagine that mine and Meghan’s are substantially larger than that of my husband. And with that knowledge comes the need to sometimes remind myself of what I already know – there is no privacy on the internet.

We live in a suburb of a big city – unique in the fact that 6 degrees of separation can easily be played – and usually can serve to connect “natives” in far less than 6 tries.

That means, that every post, every writing, every thought, every sentiment that I choose to make public will be read by people who know me, people don’t, people who like me, and people who don’t.

I have begun to “clean up” and clean out my private facebook account. Life is about balance. My husband wonders why I want to stay connected to people I don’t see or even know. Well, many of them hold a special place in my heart – whatever the reason. Many are very dear to me. But, some I really wouldn’t know if I passed them on the street. Do they care when my girl is at swim practice? Or that my anniversary is tomorrow? Or that we have a new church? Or a new school? The answer truly is – probably not.

So how does all this connect to Beating Cowden’s?

Well, here’s how I see it. I started this blog to raise awareness of a Rare Disease. – one that has changed my life and that of my daughter, and my whole family. I wanted to get the word out that this 1 in 200,000 disorder was wreaking havoc on our lives, and we are working to control it.

Then, as I became more educated, I wanted to expose people to the world of Rare Diseases. The reality that we are among the lucky ones has been a potent lesson.

I want people to know that Rare Diseases are not always visible. That even though we don’t “look sick,” the suffering is part of daily life.

These realities have made some people uncomfortable, and have brought some others closer to us. Lessons learned. Life changes.

So when I blog, I try to focus on my own experiences, but without fail they are intertwined with Meghan’s. What can I do to protect her? Not too much.

She wants this blog to continue. She is proud to be part of an awareness raising effort. So, I have given her editing privileges and the constant reminder that once I hit “publish” I can not take it back.

I think in some ways this level of awareness will help her – when she takes more control of her own digital footprint.

“Beating Cowden’s” is about our daily struggles – sometimes with doctors, our bodies, medical tests, surgeries, and just people in general.

I have thought so much about privacy, and how it is almost a work of fiction these days. I have worried about hurting people’s feelings on my private page – but I am starting to get over it.

If you make a conscious choice to put yourself out there – there has to be a purpose. And, you have to be willing to stand behind every word you type.

There is no privacy on the internet.

Beating Cowden’s will continue as a means to raise awareness of a virtually unheard of Rare Disease.

My own personal Facebook page will take a bit of an overhaul in the next few weeks.

Don’t take offense.

I am just getting our feet ready for spring!

Maybe…

Published on April 10, 2013 by beatingcowdens2 Comments

And that is what we took.

Stuck in a corner – a stifling corner, with anxiety, and all of its evil friends – we decided to break free.

And I can not think of a better thing we could have done.

Today was Meghan’s 3rd full day at her new school, and while she misses her friends – she is adjusting beautifully to the welcoming students and professionals that have greeted her.

She received an outstanding foundation at her old school – teachers who worked alongside her right up until we made the move last week. She received a foundation from them that will allow her to soar here.

I am eternally grateful.

But there is a time for moving on.

Sometimes it happens neatly at the end of 5th grade. And sometimes it happens before that. This was her time.

Which shouldn’t surprise anyone because nothing really seems to be wrapped up in a neat little organized package – not in life, and certainly not in Cowden’s Syndrome.

She changed schools, but the Syndrome stays. And sometimes that’s a hard reality to swallow.

See she is so excited to meet new children, and to run and play and socialize – we hoped that maybe the release of tension would eliminate the pain. It took a few days for the pain to catch up. But, it moved too. It lives with her – no matter what school. Although I am convinced it is less than it was.

Stress is evil. Tension is its nasty twin. The conbination wreaked havoc on her already struggling body.

Now, there is much less stress and tension, but there is still pain. A knot in the hip that doesn’t want to quit is pestering her still. And while I am grateful that the tolerance is higher, I am not sure if the pain is any less.

Any time an injury lingers, or a pain persists for more than 2 weeks – even if it is intermittent – we have to ask ourselves if it is time to go for imaging.

Xrays are not good for Cowden’s Syndrome. Radiation can send our sensitive cells into a tailspin. And the alternative – MRIs, are taxing – on everyone. But how long do you wait for a pain to go away when you have a syndrome that provokes tumor growth? How do you know what is the right time?

We scheduled the summer appointments. I was hoping to wait until then for all the check ups and tests.

Somehow, I suspect we will have to see someone a bit sooner.

But, I am stalling. Maybe the happiness will cure it.

Maybe swim season – her first ever competitive sport she ADORES – will straighten it out.

Maybe.. just maybe… we won’t have to add one more confused doctor to the list of clueless professionals who don’t know how to help us anyway.

Maybe… her blood results from Dr. Elice will come in this week, and maybe there will be an answer or two.

Maybe…

Maybe I will just go fill up my wine glass again.

Thinking outside the box

Published on March 22, 2013 by beatingcowdens4 Comments

And so began the week that was.

A “simple” annual review – not so much. But that’s OK. Mamma Bear remained calm. I am most strategic that way.

I am however exhausted, and facing another battle.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep the chin up this week, as I often felt like her:

But, I didn’t act like her. Not even once. (Well once I cried – but I got yanked past it.) And that’s about all of that story I can share here, for now.

But these last few ~~weeks~~ months, have left me with a lot of questions.

See, there is this constant battle to do what is right, or what I perceive to be right, as I advocate for Meghan, and for my family. But inevitably, because I am so introspective – I am left with a ton of questions at every fork in the road.

Last week when we took her to 4 doctors and an ER about her shoulder, I ended up being told I went to the wrong ER – that we didn’t belong there. But it is a cancer center, she is already a thyroid patient there, and my child grows things. While we are blessed that none have been cancer yet – I am not of the “wait and see mentality.” But, still I paused and wondered if I had done something wrong.

In the end, the rheumatologist gave her a muscle relaxant. We began rehabilitative PT and I am seeing progress. The shoulder and neck remain wickedly sensitive – but she has back almost full range of motion.

Still we watch the lump behind her shoulder blade, in hopes it continues to decrease in size and doesn’t turn out to be the “soft tissue tumor” we were advised to look out for.

Really – no one has even a bit of a clue. And it is often just downright exhausting.

Physical Therapy this week was refreshing. At least I deal with professionals who have made themselves aware of Meghan’s needs and focus with a goal of eliminating, or severely managing, her pain. Thank God we found them.

Because of them, Meghan will swim in her meet tomorrow. No freestyle – it hurts the neck. But that was OK with her.

Backstroke seems by far to be her favorite. I love watching her swim. She seems so at peace.

It gives me a time to break from all the questions. The wondering. The worry.

It is easy to doubt yourself sometimes when so many things are changing at once. Whether you are precipitating the change, or reacting to it out of necessity, when there is so much at once I think it is normal to wonder.

We are not super difficult to get along with. Yet we go through doctors like a toddler goes through shoes. We have very few close friends – confidants to be trusted. Those who will be honest and open minded. We spend a lot of time alone. We get along really well – thank goodness.

I think what we look for is doctors, friends, associates, people who can practice:

I just wish there were more. No one really fits in a box. And that’s not just us, and our “rare disease.” Everyone is unique, and special. Everyone needs to be looked at with a fresh pair of eyes. Everyone needs to be viewed through the perspective of the other person. Only when we start to look at things through someone else’s point of view do we solve anything.

It is the outside the box thinkers that solve IEP problems, medical problems, friendship concerns, desires to make the world better…

Daring to think outside the box is risky. It is hard. It is necessary.

Especially in this season of “test prep” where I have seen this scenario one too many times…

Mine, yours, all of them – they are individuals. They have specific needs. We should never be discouraged when advocating for them and their needs.

In many cases – we are their only voice. We MUST think outside the box for them.

Mamma Bear

Published on March 17, 2013March 17, 2013 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

Tomorrow is Meghan’s annual review for her IEP meeting.

It should have been an easy meeting. Continuation of PT and the paraprofessional until her triennial next year.

The Cowden’s Syndrome clearly warrants PT. We already have 2 sessions a week outside, and THEY want her to receive additional services inside the school.

She hurts, (by her own words)

https://beatingcowdens.com/2013/03/03/moving-backwards/ (This is a link to a speech she gave in school)

all the time. Some days she is just able to make the best of it.

Last week we lost 2 days of school (and work.) We saw 5 doctors, including an ER in those 2 days because of severe pain and virtual immobility in the left shoulder. No obvious trauma. Just the life of a 9 year old with Cowden’s Syndrome.

Cowden’s Syndrome can often be accompanied by hypermobile joints, making injury during daily activities much easier.

Cowden’s Syndrome is also a condition of over exaggeration by every body part. The smallest injury warrants a full, and sometimes incapacitating inflammatory reaction.

We manage a lot of things with Celebrex. But it is not a miracle drug.

We can not keep her in a bubble. She is 9 and wants to run and play.

But, that doesn’t mean her PT needs “don’t affect school function.” They do affect it – in so many ways.

So that is my job tomorrow. To get my point across. To speak for my girl.

Mamma bear is almost ready…

To protect baby bear… She WILL get what she NEEDS!

“I’ll get you my pretty…”

Published on March 12, 2013 by beatingcowdens12 Comments

It is late, but I need to decompress. my apologies to those of you I meant to reach out to personally.

Really – the last few days again have been a whirlwind.

The Wizard of Oz seems the appropriate metaphor – so bear with me.

Some time last week Meghan began complaining of shoulder pain. Left shoulder – mildly irritated. So, we gave some tylenol and kept on moving. But come Sunday afternoon it seemed to take a marked turn for the worse. And that is where the story began.

She was struggling to move it at all, and the pain face was coming. You know – the face that tries to be brave but is so strained it just ends up looking exhausted? That one.

We got her to bed Sunday night but started to wonder if she would make school the next day. We waited until she was sound asleep and began poking at the shoulder. Sounds mean I know, but we figured if we got a pain reaction out of a dead sleep… and we did.

So I began to Email her awesome PT who did her best to help guide me and keep me calm. She also got me a 1:15 appointment for Monday.

I emailed my boss that I would be out and I let her sleep in Monday. Then she woke up. I guess that’s where it started to get trickier.

Well, maybe not quite that tricky yet – but close. The pain was intense. We decided to try the Urgi Care to see if she needed an Xray. We waited and were seen by a perplexed doctor who decided against the Xray and suggested we see the pediatrician. Great plan. He was on my list but I was hoping to get a jump start since his hours didn’t start till 2.

In the mean time, we went to see the PT. Have I mentioned Jill and Lauren at Leaps and Bounds PT are the absolute BEST? We saw Lauren who calmly assessed Meghan through careful range of motion activities. It was clear she was in great pain. Lauren told me she was worried about the muscles – clearly strained, and the potential that there might be a slight injury to the rotator cuff.

At this point I swear I heard the sound of Cowden’s Syndrome, like the Wicked Witch, cackling in the background, “I’ll get you my pretty…!”

My heart sank. The shoveling hadn’t helped I am sure. But the swimming. That had to be the real culprit. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach, or perhaps that someone had dropped a house on me.

It had taken years to find a sport that she enjoyed. One that she was ENCOURAGED to do. The pride and excitement on her face – amazing. And now the threat that maybe it caused this injury. My thoughts flooded with wonderings about the future.

At 2:30 we headed to the pediatrician. He evaluated her but wanted an orthopedist. We tried three. None took my insurance. Finally they found one local that takes my insurance who would see her Weds. (tomorrow) at 4:40 – but don’t worry because they are triple booked and we should plan on waiting 3 hours.

Um… no.

So as I stood at the window of the pediatrician’s office I asked him to order the MRI that seemed inevitable. He reluctantly did. Then I asked him what to do for her for pain. He called us back in and looked at her again.

He said what I already knew. He said, ” No one around here has a clue about Cowden’s Syndrome, and they don’t want to touch her.” Take her off Staten Island. Go up to Memorial Sloan Kettering where they first diagnosed her AVM. Go to the ER up there. We have no way of knowing if the knot behind her shoulder is a muscle or a soft tissue tumor. (Thank you Cowden’s)

“I’ll get you my pretty…” There goes the cackle again. And a firm reminder to Cowden’s that it WILL not get us

This was at about 5. So, we had a quick bite to eat and headed up to 68th and York. They were perplexed by our arrival, but they handled it fine. They got an Xray, and made Meghan comfortable with heat packs and pain medicine. The Xray wasn’t read because there was no radiologist on, so we were discharged hours later with the pain pills, and orders to see an orthopedist – the one who diagnosed the AVM, and to call our endocrinologist for the Xray results in the AM since he is the one we see at Sloan.

At this point Felix had joined us and we were all a bit punchy. Meghan was stiff and in pain. I was over thinking and exhausted… together we made quite a sight.

We arrived home after 11 and I headed down the street to the 24 hour pharmacy for her pain medicine. Except – they didn’t have it. And they offered me no suggestion as to where to get it. So, at 11:20 – armed with my smart phone, and facebook, I relied on the guidance of a few night owls to get me to a pharmacy. Medicine retrieved, heating blanket purchased, and Twix consumed – I headed home some time close to 1AM.

Felix was staying home Tuesday. It was Parent Teacher Conferences for me. So my head touched down on the pillow some time around 1:20 AM.

Too tired to even think, I could still hear the cackling of the witch – reminding me so much of Cowden’s Syndrome… threatening… “I’ll get you….”

I headed out to work by 7:30.

I called for the Xray results and got a reprimand by our doctor at Sloan that was appropriate for a child. He was annoyed that I had even brought her to the ER last night. I told THAT doctor to take it up with my pediatrician. I really despise arrogance.

In contact with Felix and Meghan we got an appointment for the orthopedist, on the 21st of MARCH!

Since that wasn’t going to work a long term plan, a call to the rheumatologist led to an appointment at 2:30 PM today.

Basically she feels the lump is a muscle and not a tumor…. (So take that bucket of ice water witch!)

She gave Meghan an order to rest for a week. Better than a season! She also gave a script for PT and a muscle relaxant for a week. We will reevaluate then…

In the mean time, she is asleep. Resting with a heating pad. School tomorrow will be tough, but she will make it.

I got through hours of conferences and stayed alert and awake!

I will find the number and call the coach about swimming.

We will not give up. But apparently she needs PT AND swimming, not PT OR swimming. We have time. Not a worry. We will fit that right in.

You know what, it has been a wild two days. But it could have been a whole lot worse.

Everything with Cowden’s seems to have a sense of urgency. There is always the “what if…” Her joints are hypermobile because of the Cowden’s. She injures easily. But all that means is we have to teach her to get in control of her body. So the PT is a have to. That’s ok. Could be worse. Least we love our PTs.

AND… it will be PT AND Swimming. My girl loves to swim. And she’s not half bad.

A few readjustments. A few more bumps in the road. A few more skipped meals, and some more gray hair. But it will be OK again.

Cowden’s Syndrome gives us obstacles. We work around them, through them – whatever is appropriate. As long as we don’t stop.

And well – if anyone says we can’t… we just melt them. It’s much quieter now.

Hopefully tomorrow runs smoothly.

But for tonight…

Soldier on

Published on March 8, 2013March 8, 2013 by beatingcowdensLeave a comment

When I was a little girl, we lived on the first floor of the two family house where my grandparents still live.

I feel like it used to snow a lot more when I was younger than it does now, and I can remember watching my grandfather take his snow blower and clear out the block – both sides of the street. It was one of the many times I was amazed, at his compassion, and Christian attitude towards his neighbors. Pop was my very first lesson in how to”Pay it Forward.” Always giving with no expectation, or desire that it be recognized or returned.

The years have changed a few things, but not everything. Pop still gives whatever he can, to whomever he can, whenever he can. But, at 93 he can no longer shovel the snow. We often laugh that if that is his only restriction – he is in pretty good shape. And truly, he could put most of us half his age to shame.

It snowed in New York today. The weather forecasters didn’t have it quite right, and what first was to be major, and then not so much, seemed to fall somewhere in the middle and it lingered all day. Since the forecast is for weather in the 50s this weekend, as the day went on the snow got wetter and heavier.

I aways leave work at lunch to let my dogs out. Today the roads around my school weren’t looking so good, so I decided to chance it and leave them. They lasted until 2:45 when we got home. Meghan let them out as I began to shovel the heavy snow off our walk. One of my neighbors had left path down the sidewalk. I don’t know who, but I can make some guesses. Either way, it was the kind to remind me of my grandfather, and all the walkways he cleared when I was a kid.

I told Meghan she had to come with me to shovel at GiGi and Pop’s house. She was more than willing. As a matter of fact she was excited, and insisted she would help. Heart bursting with pride, I reminisced about my early snow shoveling days. The days I probably did more harm than good, but I felt so important – so proud to be helping. I have always been so grateful that I was allowed to help shovel at a young age. I believe it motivated me to be a bit more of a team player. Snow shoveling was always just something we all did. So – it is a natural occurrence for me, and one I am happy to share with Meghan.

My grandparents don’t live far, and they have been blessed with neighbors that always seem to help with the shoveling. Often before we have had a chance to dig out our cars to lend a helping hand, we will get a call not to worry – the neighbors did it. Of course, we still head down to do what we can, but those neighbors and their kindness have helped us on so many occasions.

So when Meghan and I arrived – my grandparents were not home. They were out at a funeral for an old friend. Meghan and I went to work. While she was working on the front of my grandparents, I began to clear the neighbors. Finally we were there first! She was confused at first, but when I explained to her how kind they are, she insisted on clearing their driveway herself. She was actually annoyed when I told her she had gone far enough.

As we got back in the car, she was chatting me up about how much “FUN” it had been to shovel. She was so genuinely excited to be helpful, and I was glad to have a helper.

But, then there was the pain. There is always the pain. The snow was heavy. Ice and slush. She persevered. Then she came home and did some homework, and had dinner. It started with the elbow. Then the knee. Darn Celebrex just can’t cover it all anymore. A rub from Daddy and a Tylenol with the nighttime pills. Hopefully she is not too stiff for her swim meet tomorrow.

My big girl. Finding her way. Strong willed and determined. Brave and in pain. Stubborn, and refusing to quit. Cowden’s Syndrome will never own her. It will never leave her, but it will not determine her movements. Tonight even through the pain there was talk of “next time when I shovel.” She keeps me motivated.

The chiropractor told me not to shovel. But that was yesterday. She also told me that the degenerating disks in my back are likely a direct result of the car accident in November. Ok, so that explains the pain. But really I will not go quietly either. Cowden’s Syndrome has created havoc in my body. But I will not retreat. Nor will I surrender.

I am leading an army of 2. We will hold each other when we need to, but we will soldier on.

BEATING COWDEN’S!

Happy Birthday to my boobs!

Published on March 4, 2013March 4, 2013 by beatingcowdens12 Comments

Remember where you were a year ago?

I do.

A year ago this evening I was pacing the floors. Making sure Meghan was packed for school. Triple checking my hospital bag. Planning my last meal by midnight, and pacing the floors – quite sure I wouldn’t sleep.

I was right.

I hadn’t arrived at that moment in my life by accident. It was the result of years of breast biopsies for suspicious masses. MRIs, sonograms, mammograms – and a mother who was a bilateral breast cancer survivor. Not to mention my diagnosis of Cowden’s Syndrome that had been confirmed only months before I met the warm, caring, and decisive surgeon that was about to remove part of my body. Don’t wait till the summer – she somehow convinced me. March 5th. Get it done.

One year ago, on the morning of March 5th 2012, after vomiting repeatedly from terror, my husband and I left and headed to NYU hospital for my “prophylactic bilateral mastectomy.”

We checked in by 6 AM. I can remember every detail of the morning. It is imprinted in my subconsciousness. It may fade over time – but for now…

My brother in law called my cell phone by six. We prayed together. Then, I just focused on breathing.

Checking in takes forever. Everyone stopping in. Lots of waiting. I paced that small room so many times I swear my footprints are probably still there.

And my husband – my pillar of strength – just waited with me. When I wanted him to pay attention – he stopped and held my hand. When I wanted him to ignore me, he dutifully read comics on his iphone. I would not have wanted to be him.

I had to explain to the resident filling out the paper that I was not having “tissue expanders” put in. Well this was not an easy concept for him. Apparently that is just what everyone does. The expanders are placed during the mastectomy, and then “filled” until the tissue expands to the size you would like, and then the silicone is placed.

Well I had already had a long talk with my plastic surgeon. I had no desire to have giant boobs. Nope. I was sure.

She can keep her award... — She can keep her award…

At 38 years old, and the mother of a nervous 8 year old, all I wanted was to leave the hospital and not have to return for another surgery. (The sweet irony of that wasn’t realized until I returned 10 weeks later for my hysterectomy… but anyway)

I had convinced the plastic surgeon to use whatever silicone implant she could – and put them right in. After a lengthy discussion, she agreed. It was more important for me to get right home to Meghan.

This resident was having a hard time wrapping his head around this, but finally we got the papers right. They were to put in whatever one of these fit best – preferably a matched pair.

Finally it was time to head to the operating room.

I have had lots and lots of surgeries, but the thought that I was engaging in such a major procedure “prophylactic-ally” was literally making me weak at the knees. Fortunately I managed to hook up with an absolutely awesome surgeon/plastic surgeon team. Two women who are talented, compassionate, and understanding. They gave me the peace of mind I needed right before the anesthesia. The last words I recall before I woke up – “You’re doing the right thing.”

They expected a “clean easy procedure.” After all I had had an MRI just a month prior to confirm I was cancer free.

Recovery from anesthesia isn’t my forte, although I have improved with experience. I got to visit with my sister, and enjoy my husband.

The peace I felt after this surgery can not be understated. I was so relieved. The storm had been calmed. It was done.

I left the hospital about 28 hours later on March 6th. I couldn’t wait to see my girl. The drains were still in place and they would stay for another week, but the hardest of the hard work was done.

So, on March 5th – my boobs are officially a year old. At least that’s the day I adopted them.

And what a year it has been.

A week after my “prophylactic” mastectomy, I held in my hands a pathology report that clearly stated I had DCIS – early stage Breast Cancer. Among the other “precancerous” conditions embedded in that report was the reality that I no longer had to be concerned with the “what if?” It was done. I was OK. By the Grace of God alone – the cancer was out before it was ever a problem. And, whenever I doubt, or get angry or frustrated by our Cowden’s Syndrome journey, I am reminded of that moment. Without Meghan, and without her diagnosis. I would have never proceeded with such an aggressive surgery. God gave me my little girl, and spared my life. We will use that gift as often as we can.

The weeks of recovery went smoothly, with lots of help from mom.

And then it seemed – no sooner was I back at work, that I was being told by another surgeon that I NEEDED a complete hysterectomy – now. So, in May we went back. This time at least everything was benign.

This is the year that included 2 surgeries for Mom and a thyroid biopsy for Meghan. It included a car accident that I am still healing from. (And the very first thing I checked after I realized I had been in an accident was that my silicone was intact!)

It included Grandma’s fall, and ongoing recovery.

It included circumstances that caused me to step away from my church, and blessings that led me to a new one.

This year I laughed deep laughs, and I cried gut wrenching tears. I got re-acquainted with old friends, and I met new friends in support groups online.

This year I learned there are some benefits to small silicone boobs… (with no nipples!) I got to go bra-less for the first time in YEARS!

This year we vowed to make a difference,

This year we gave out over 2,000 denim ribbons, and taught a whole lot of people about Cowden’s Syndrome and Rare Diseases, and the Global Genes Project.

This year was only the beginning of the rest of our lives.

One year without my old boobs. One year with the new and improved CANCER FREE version. One year of countless blessings. One year of boobs that will never sag!