I Miss My Breasts
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Hope & Healing for Your Breast Cancer Journey
By Linda A. Fiorenzano

Wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around my head, I stared at my body in the mirror and realized how much I missed my breasts. I always wondered if this day might come. After being diagnosed with Stage 1 invasive breast cancer six years earlier, I opted for a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction. The decision was a difficult one to accept and it made me angry, but at the same time, I felt clear about it after seeing what happened to my mother and my sister.

Cancer had always plagued my family. My mother had a single mastectomy only to die three years after her breast cancer metastasized to her bones. After a nine-year illness, my dad died of lymphoma. My sister — who was also my best friend — chose a lumpectomy and her breast cancer metastasized to her liver and lungs a year later. As if not to be left out, my own cancer diagnosis came along — and by that time I had seen enough. When confronting my own treatment options, I chose to be aggressive. I wanted to survive for a very long time. (Keep reading)