I had a preventive mastectomy with reconstruction

The case of my mom

I remember that day when I took my mom to the doctor. These words will always ring in my head: "Ma'am, you have a cancerous tumor in your right breast, the surgery needs to be scheduled soon." The world was crumbling around me. My mother raised her 4 daughters, alone. She always had a healthy life, without alcohol, without tobacco, without vice. Thank goodness she was getting tested regularly, as her aunt died in 2000 from breast cancer.

I stayed with her for several months, I saw her spend her days on the sofa, without strength because too weakened by her treatments, chemo and cortisone. She had beautiful blonde hair. And then, over time, she started to see them fall. So instead of complaining every day in front of the mirror, we went to shave his head. I stayed strong with her, and we didn't cry. I saw her weaker and weaker. The only thing that gave me hope was telling myself that we were not done enjoying life together. She dreamed of traveling, and I promised her that we would travel together.

When you have breast cancer, it is recommended to have the breasts removed to limit any recurrence. She couldn't see herself without breasts at 46. I wish she had done it to limit the risk, but that decision was up to her. She kept telling me: "Coco, my breasts are one of the few things I love about me, I'm 46, I can't live with one less breast, I won't even be able to look at myself in a mirror anymore. " She ended up curing and conquering this damn cancer despite still intense medical monitoring.

In 2018, and because the family history recommended it, I took a battery of tests and was diagnosed carrier of the BRCA1 gene, which affects 1 in 800 women.

Doctors have always told me to start follow-up 10 years before my mother got sick, so when I was 36. So I thought I was still a few years old chill in front of me. Well, that's what I thought …

I am also a carrier of the BRCA1 gene and based on my family history my risks are up to 85% risks for breast cancer and between 25 and 65% for the ovaries. My sisters and I had a 50% chance of having it then. Marine and I are carriers. Charline is not, and Océane will be able to do the test in a few months. Shock. MRIs, mammograms and appointments with specialists are now expected every year from our 30th birthday!

This is my second year of intensive supervision. I am being followed in a hospital specializing in oncology and I have great difficulty going there regularly. The atmosphere, all these sick people, going from one department to another to do my 3 exams (MRI, mammography and gynecological consultation). It’s intense and I’m so upset with each visit that I spend my day crying.

A Psychological support is set up, taken care of in my case, but then I didn't feel like talking. I preferred to do it with my family, my friends. Today, I share it with you. And for now, that's enough.

You have to choose: surveillance or prophylactic mastectomy?

Women at high risk of breast cancer are closely monitored with a consultation every 6 months: mammography, ultrasound and MRI. A biopsy in the slightest doubt … This monitoring will make it possible to diagnose and treat any cancer early, but does not prevent its occurrence. When the risk is very high, as in my case, preventive mastectomy is offered from the age of 30. This is the only effective method of preventing the onset of breast cancer. The risk after mastectomy becomes very low: it drops to less than 5% (against 85% in the event of a confirmed mutation).

I did the tests in 2018 with an oncologist and had to wait several months for the results. That day, I went to the hospital on my own. I remember waiting forever in the waiting room. It was the first appointment of the day though, and I knew the doctor had been in his office with my results for over an hour. I understood that if they had been negative, she would have gotten to me. She greeted me and told me the results were positive. I held back my tears and it took a few days to tell my family.

Live freely like everyone else

I was conditioned, I told her on our first date that I had come to terms with the idea of ​​carrying the gene – I could feel it deep inside me. As if I had to be in the same “boat” as my mom to show her my support and unconditional love. That she wouldn't be alone. I want to live freely like everyone else, so I made one of the most important decisions of my life: I decided to get rid of my breasts by resorting to a preventive mastectomy of both breasts.

Many women affected by the BRCA1 or BRCA2 discomfort wonder about the preventive operation, the risks, the postoperative, the aesthetic result … When I decided to have this procedure, I went hours on the Internet looking for before / after photos to no avail. I said to myself : " I launch into the void »With the lump in the stomach. I saw my surgeon many times – I would say at least 3 times – before making my decision. Time seemed like an eternity until D-Day.

D-day

October 27 at 7:25, I arrive at theInstitut Curie de Saint-Cloud, where I have already been followed for 2 years. I am in my room, a little confused but confident, because I knew that this day that I have been waiting for would soon be behind me and I could not wait to wake up with surgery …

8:30 : I go down to the recovery room, I lie down on a bed, and my surgeon arrives to make the famous black felt-tip drawings on my chest, and set his marks for the operation. The time comes to anesthesia local, which is not automatic but preferable, to wake up painlessly (or very light), at the level of the pectoral block. They proceed by injections in the back (we compare this to the epidural, but with smaller needles I believe).

9h : Head for the OR before falling asleep this time in general anesthesia to 2 hours 30 minutes of operation. I obviously don't remember anything until I wake up.

1 p.m. : "Madam, you are in the recovery room, the operation is over" … I still hear the incessant beeps from the machines around me, so I don't feel like I'm in real life but in a nightmare. I can't connect with my body. I feel like I'm outside of him. Like it's no longer mine. I no longer have any notion of time. And the fateful question arrives. “Ms. Balligand, can you describe your pain to me from 1 to 10? ” I answered = 10, with the few votes I had left.

My first question to them is: "Is that pretty?". I have a few flashes of a woman who looks quickly while lifting my blouse and answers me "Yes it's very good”(Thanks for the answer…). And that's when I'm caught up in this pain. I suffer martyrdom! Incomparable pain. A mixture of tightness, burns, as if I had been run over, passed under a truck, and especially on the left side. I am awake but I cannot move or keep my eyes open for more than a few seconds. I don't understand why I wake up with pain of this intensity despite the anesthesia. I am paralyzed. And here we go for the worst hours of suffering of all my life.

Doctors, in turn, question this level of suffering very regularly in order to adapt painkillers, to no avail. None are effective. I stay in the recovery room for several hours, totally “high” on sedatives but well aware. When I finally come to my senses and ask the doctor "Why was it so painful?", I am answered: ‘You have already received too much morphine, Ketamine and Tramadol. We have to wait, otherwise there might be side effects ”. I am finally taken back to a room at 5 p.m.. I look forward to reassuring my parents and little sisters who must have died of worry.

I couldn't get up, using my arms was inconceivable, it pulled me so hard.

My first night

The first night was chaotic, obviously, I could not get up, using my arms was inconceivable so much it pulled me. The drains also bothered me a lot and made me suffer. Like a feeling of deep tearing at the slightest attempt at movement. I was still lying in my blouse, butt exposed and I had to pee in a basin. It was glamorous … At 3:30 in the morning, Astrid, my great roommate who had a breast removal the day before my operation, helped me get up to get dressed and put on a comfortable outfit. Strangely, she was in less pain than I was, although the operation must be ultra traumatic.

I slept an hour or two in the early morning. The nurses invited me to take a shower in the morning, but as soon as I got up I felt faint. I succeeded after several attempts and a forced breakfast because I had no appetite. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, discovered my new breasts. It takes 4 months to get a final result but I was already reassured by what I saw. I did not have a bandage on my scars which are under the breasts (about 2 inches). That day, in the afternoon, I had a spike in pain + fatigue. I was distraught, I even regretted the operation. My daily medication quota was still full and I was still in pain. The intravenous morphine injected every 4 hours and Tramadol did not calm me down.

I was physically and psychologically exhausted, I cried all the tears in my body. I couldn't see the end of it. With hindsight and after having discussed with the caregivers, it could be that unconsciously, my body has put itself in “self-defense” / paralyzed by the intervention that it has undergone and that it has made a barrier to all the substances that 'I was injected to protect myself. I should have left the hospital on D + 1 but the doctors wanted me to stay 1 extra night for observation and that reassured me too. I never imagined for a second coming out like this. Depending on the hospital, some women stay between 2 and 7 days. No need to detail the rest of my stay in the hospital, I suffered from start to finish. No appetite, no strength to stand. But I was relieved that the operation went well and to be surrounded by medical staff so well.

Back to home

I went home on Thursday October 29 at the end of the morning, with my drains. I began to understand that it was they who made me suffer more than my chest. Just getting in the car and getting me home was laborious. My mom had taken days to take care of me and I really needed it. I couldn't do anything alone, I walked very slowly, I couldn't get up or go to bed alone. I couldn't plug in an outlet, wear anything, raise my arms, get dressed, tie my shoes, put on my socks, open my front door … A nurse would come by every morning to redo my dressings (from drains) because these things are hung a little below the breasts, connected to them by pipes tucked under the skin on 10 cm, and hung by a small suture. I get chills writing this. I never looked at them, it scared me even more than my swollen breasts. They are used to prevent hemorrhages, infections. The nurse removed them on Saturday, October 31.

I have to wear a post-operative bra day and night for a month and I continued to take painkillers and anti-inflammatories every 4 hours for several days, luckily my mother was there to remind me because I only thought about it. 'to pain. And I could be relieved for a few minutes a day. I didn't dare to move, I didn't know how to settle down so as not to be in pain. The only comfortable place I had found was to sit on my wooden chair. I did not take morphine at home because I felt my body was having difficulty recovering. I had headaches, dizziness, nausea, and hadn't been to the bathroom for several days because of all the stuff I was injected into in the hospital. I wanted to stop the "massacre" and take my pain patiently.

I have spaced out the medication on D + 6 I believe. During the day, I could get used to it, but at night it was another story. The pain would wake me up around 2 or 3 in the morning, I would take a pain reliever that I had prepared next to go back to sleep and if I was unfortunate enough to want to go to the bathroom, I would wait for my mother to go to bed. gets up to ask her for help, I didn't want to wake her up at night. If she hadn't been there, I would never have been able to get out of bed on my own, the first week after surgery. Then after a few days, I picked up my bearings, and my habits, in slow motion.

Today, I still have some rehabilitation to do with the physiotherapist because my mobility is not complete but the pains are finally gone. I did not regain my sensitivity but the most important thing is to have passed the course of the operation and to be able to live more serenely before the episode of removal of the ovaries from the age of 40.

Etam launches yes !, its first post-mastectomy lingerie collection

Video by Clemence Chevallet