No Regrets: Living Fully After Breast Cancer & Mastectomy
Lyn, pictured with her newest Haynes flute.
Lyn Banghart reflects on the treatment choices she made 36 years ago, as a young wife and mother, after learning she had an aggressive form of breast cancer.
I don’t think about it much anymore. But this is my story. Please keep in mind that the choices I made were so very personal, and the times and options were very different then. Every woman is different. Every woman will make the right decision for herself.
I was 38 when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, and I was shocked by the diagnosis. I was too young. I was married and had two children — a son, age 16, and a daughter, age 12. I found a lump, which led to a mammogram. The lump was benign, but there was a suspicious area in another part of the breast that turned out to be cancer.
I was very, very fortunate that I had wonderful physicians who ordered all the right tests and did all the right things that were being done at that time. They had just started testing whether tumors were estrogen negative or positive. Mine was estrogen negative, which — as we know now — is a more aggressive cancer.
My tumor was less than 1 cm. As a treatment option, I was offered a lumpectomy followed by radiation. My surgeon also talked about reconstruction. But after long talks with my husband, I decided a modified radical mastectomy was what I wanted, and I opted for no reconstruction.
My memory is a bit clouded after all these years, but I do remember some things. The morning of my surgery, we left the house at 5 a.m. My very dear friend and neighbor looked through her window as we drove by and smiled and waved.
When they came to take me to surgery, I remember vividly my husband’s face and kiss, and his words, “I love you and will be with you.” I watched him standing there as I was wheeled away.
When I awoke from surgery, my husband was there by my side. I’m a little fuzzy on the timing of everything, but I remember having a drain, not having much pain, and waiting to hear about the status of my lymph nodes. My husband was hanging all his hopes on the outcome of those nodes. The surgeon came and informed us that they were free of cancer. Now we could move on to the next stage.
There is only one more moment I remember in the hospital: the day I got out of bed, walked into the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. I feel like I should say something profound about losing a breast and how I was horrified and saddened by it. But I wasn’t. For me, it was all about losing as much of the cancer as I could. I wanted to be around for a lot longer in this life.
When I got home, reality hit. Coping with losing a breast involved mastectomy bras and prostheses and putting cocoa butter on the very long scar on my chest every day. I couldn’t wear anything but a soft shirt for quite a while, and it was indeed very bizarre to only have one breast.
I don’t remember talking to my children about my breast cancer, but they say that my husband and I did talk to them and that we tried to reassure them so they would not be worried. Our son does remember being worried. My daughter remembers when I dropped my prosthesis on the floor and it made us both laugh!
After my surgery, I started six months of chemotherapy. Chemotherapy is awful. There is no way around that. The sickness, the lost hair, and the fatigue are overwhelming. Three Cytoxan pills every morning, an infusion of methotrexate every other week, and 5FU [fluorouracil] for six months. But I knew it had a job to do, and I wanted that job done.
My husband was my rock. Through everything, he gave me more love and support than any other human could have given.
When my chemotherapy was finished, we threw a huge party and invited all the wonderful people who helped me through the surgery, the infusions, and the blood tests, including family, friends, doctors, and nurses. And they all came. It was a glorious evening I will never forget.
A year and a half later, I decided to have my other breast removed. There was so much they didn’t know about estrogen negative cancer at that time. I had two female breast surgeons say they would do the same thing. So, I did it.
I have never regretted that decision for even a second. I am still here at age 75 and grateful for every day. I can wear prostheses or go without. I don’t mind being flat-chested.
I want to end here by saying that my husband is probably the finest human being I know. Our love has gotten stronger over the last 54 years. It is not easy having no breasts. There are still days when I miss them. Sexually my breasts have been greatly missed. But it didn’t seem to interfere with our sex life. Love and creativity have a great deal to do with that.
Keep in mind that now the medical community knows so much more, and breast cancer is often found earlier, when it can be easier to treat and when breasts can be saved.
I was very lucky. I know that all too well. A good doctor and a mammogram saved my life. Please get a mammogram, do self-exams, and know that there can be a long life after breast cancer. With or without breasts.
About the Author
Lyn Banghart, pictured with her newest Haynes flute, has been a professional flutist, vocalist, and piano accompanist since graduation from college. She also started playing the French horn at age 60 and has played for 15 years.