Too Young to Die

The past month has been a whirlwind of incredible experiences and varying emotions. For a few weeks I completely immersed myself in spending time with my family and friends, only thinking about my mastectomy a handful of times. In fact, I nearly forgot about the big life changes heading my way. But just a few days ago, as I was walking the streets of Georgetown on a beautiful sunny afternoon, the word “mastectomy” flashed across my mind and stopped me dead in my tracks. The sun continued to shine, the cars and pedestrians were still buzzing past me under the shade of the fresh, new summer leaves. I had to catch my breath and grasp, once again, the fact that my life is about to drastically change. How could I forget??

I’ve tried to downplay the significance of my surgery to myself, my friends and my loved ones almost to the point that the word “mastectomy” seems too formal, too drastic. I’ve felt that this word gives people the wrong impression. Before I tested for my mutation, I assumed “mastectomy” meant scary, jagged scars that left a woman flat-chested and formless forever. Since the surgery is so different today, I’ve tried to think about it differently and describe it differently. Don’t worry, I say, I’ll keep my curves! The doctors are just going to carve me out like a pumpkin and replace the cancerous goo and seeds with pretty implants. Out with the old, in with the new. But at the end of the day, I’m still having a mastectomy. There’s no getting around that word and the seriousness that comes with it.

On Saturday evening, I was reminded why I must have a preventative double mastectomy now, at 23 years old. I attended the Tigerlily Foundation’s 2nd Annual DIVA Night Out, which was a fund-raising gala to support young women before, during and after breast cancer. Maimah Karmo, founder of the Tigerlily Foundation, was diagnosed with stage II breast cancer at the age of 32. When Maimah found the lump, she was in shock and denial. Her doctor told her not to worry, she was too young for breast cancer. Come back in six months, he said. When she returned, the doctor continued to ignore the symptoms and told her to wait another six months. But this time Maimah insisted upon a biopsy. And, sure enough, the doctor was wrong. It was breast cancer, and it had already developed past the beginning stages.

Unfortunately, Kristy and Maimah were among the 11,000 women under the age of 40 that are diagnosed with breast cancer every year in the United States. On a broader scale, more than 250,000 women age 40 and under will be diagnosed with breast cancer during their lives. To make matters worse, young women often have more aggressive forms of breast cancer that carry higher mortality rates. It doesn’t help when doctors repeatedly tell young women not to worry, young women don’t get breast cancer, so just ignore the lump and come back in six months (!!!)

On Saturday, the survivors were given pink feather boas so they could fearlessly show off their courage and their youth. Everywhere I saw young, beaming faces framed by these soft pink boas. White women, African American women, Latina women, you name it – a young lady from every background had feathery representation. Breast cancer does happen to women my age. Even though it’s still pretty rare, it happens to young girls every day, every year. With my BRCA1 mutation, I could very well be the next diagnosis. Too bad, cancer, I got a heads up. I intend to act before you ever get a chance to, and I intend to act now. No one can tell me I’m too young to do this.

In the meantime, I don’t know how I’d be able to go through any of this without my dear, dear friend Kristy. After her cancer diagnosis, Kristy learned that she had also inherited a BRCA1 mutation from her father. But she took this all with a grain of salt and battled the cancer ferociously. After the chemotherapy, radiation and partial mastectomy, she continued with her school work and will now graduate from law school in two weeks. Kristy is absolutely one of the bravest women I know.

Needless to say, I’m beyond blessed to have her as a friend and role model. Along with the other young women who have shared their stories and bodies with me, Kristy is also my inspiration. Like my grandmother, Kristy has shown me that life is too precious to risk for anything. We must take it by the horns and show this nasty cancer who’s the boss. We’re too young to be sick and far too young to die.

Since I’m the oldest in my family, there was no older sister or mother to pave the way for me, to show me how to brave this battle with grace and undaunting courage. Kristy has filled that role for me. I hope that I can one day be as strong, bold and beautiful for my sisters, as Kristy has been for me. I hope I’m already their Kristy.