The last chapter

There's something about my husband making dinner while I'm at the gym that makes my heart spill with graditude (he made some bomb ass breakfast burritos-my fav). Not only did he take care of everything so I could work out after work, he also surprised me with a quiet night to myself, and even told me to leave the dishes for tomorrow. It's been a while since I've sat alone with my thoughts and haven't been overwhelemed by them. I became great at keeping myself so busy that I didn't have time to think. Eventually it all became too much and I broke. I wasn't ok and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Some viewed me as "that girl", and I didnt want to be her anymore. I didn't know who I was and didn't connect with my reflection . I thought about letting my blog go but soon felt guilty for not taking you to the end. SO here goes!!! Tonight I come to you from my kitchen floor with an honest update. Yes, you read that right, the kitchen floor. It's one of my favorite places to sit. I really couldn't tell you why but I always find myself sitting here on this cold floor writting.

It's been quite some time since I've written. I had fallen pretty hard and didn't want anyone to know how I was really doing. I grew annoyed with my feelings and embarrased by my emotions. It was a different kind of vulnerability, and I didn't want anyone to know. It was easier to pretend to be ok. I suppose I forget I am only human, and sometimes humans break. While broken, there can be something beautiful to be said about the cracks. Glued back together piece by piece they reveal a story, evidence that you've lived.

I tried to ignore that my entire being changed and my world shifted in the biggest ways. I went through a major major surgery, and a long road of smaller surgeries, more office visits than I can count, and some pretty terrifying moments. And while I may not have had cancer, I still went through the physical and emotional process of a double mastectomy and my family went through it with me. It was our life for the past three years and it became all we knew. Friendships changed, I got a new job and we are currently trying to adjust to life as it is now. We are finding ourselves, and ways to fall in love with life all over again. The process has changed our minds, bodies, and souls. To say that it hasn't would be a lie. It would change anyone.

I got to a point where I hated my reflection. I was in the midst of a real identity crisis. I couldn't do it anymore. I had a giant mental break down last week and realized it's ok to need help and admit when you aren't ok. My husband has inspired me in the greatest way. He has always been my light, even when his wasn't shining. Because of him I've been taking steps towards finding my inner self and regaining control again. I bleed my stresses out at the gym, I give myself time to meditate, and I've been making an effort to pick back up my hobbies. I am reading more and am writing again. I admit I need an extra hand in sorting my thoughts and how to properly cope. It is with the love and encouragement of my family that I've decided to start counseling next week. I need to take time for me. Because I don't have to vacuum every morning and cook every night, and sadly laundry will still be there waiting for me.

After much thought, I've finally decided what I'm going to do in terms of tattoos/nipples. I wasn't 100% sure until I met with my great friend and tattoo artist today. I have been on the fence about what to do for weeks. I was so torn that I avoided the decision all together. I wasn't sure I would ever feel peace one way or another so I took a leap and scheduled a consultation. I walked in there listened to my heart and suddenly I knew. I'm not ready to share my decision with the world just yet, but I feel excited and ready for all the amazing things to come. I am excited to rebuild and become who I'm intended to be. I'm ready to feel beautiful and find my confidence again. Most importantly I'm ready for the rest of my happily ever after with my family.

To dance beneath it with you

Because poetry melts my soul and has forever stolen my heart. It was the only healthy outlet through my teenage years full of hiding behind a smile while I slowly died inside. Notebooks upon notebooks filled with my deepest darkest thoughts, forever hidden away.

I've always felt as if I have to be everyone's ray of sunshine, even if I slip into another emotional coma when life becomes too heavy (still working on this). Always certain that I would be looked at differently if the world really knew me, and my humanly roller coaster of thoughts, emotions, or lack of. Then I realized I am but one voice among a world of others that may be feeling the same way. So I let down my wall, I opened up and began blogging.. leaving myself completely naked to the world and their opinions. It may seem like public suicide to some.. the world can be so brutal, how can I be so open??

My answer is this. I would be on this journey if you were here with me or not. I would still cry on the bathroom floor, or laugh because I can't shake the mustard, or become irritated because I can't get my own shirt off. None of that would change. But the person reading this, that can laugh because they've been there, or can wipe away tears because for the first time they don't feel alone, or maybe my words help them understand how someone they know may be feeling. To be reminded that life is full of storms, and while some may last longer than others, the clouds will always part and the sun will shine again.

Thank you to those that have been there for me through this crazy thing called life. I'm so greatful to you. Thank you to those that were there for the sunshine, but couldn't take the rain. Thank you to those that stayed for a few showers but couldn't stand outside while it poured. And thank you from the bottom of my soul to those that have ridden through the storms by my side, holding me up when my world flooded and I couldn't float alone.

I am and will forever be your Kritty-loo. I'm ever evolving as quick as the very earth we stand upon. This is my story. The words are written whether you are here to read them or not. I will feel darkness and pain, beauty and light no matter if you are there to see it or not. If you've stood there through my light, and remained through the darkness..even if you were afraid too, Thank you. The sun always shines again and I can't wait to dance beneath it with you.

Because life

Life never goes as planned. Just when we think we have everything figured out another curve ball gets thrown our way.

Megan joined me for another trip to Mayo yesterday. With her the almost 6 hour drive goes by quickly. Car dancing and lunch meat sandwhiches out of my trunk, and enough caffine that we remain wired all day. I've learned to make the best of things. You only live once right?!

I'm the girl that takes heels and a black jacket looking for the perfect location to pull over and snap a few photos. My body is about to change again. After next week my clothes will fit differently, my silhouette will change, and I will have completed another win. The winning location?? The rocks leading to the Mississippi river at the rest stop right before crossing from Minnesota back into Wisconsin. There were unsteady footing, fear stricken wobbles, snakes, and the most glorious view. A view that filled my soul and reminded me how infinite we truly are. If we aren't living, we are dying.

We arrived at Mayo with just enough time to hit up Starbucks. It's become part of our routine.

We enjoyed some time walking around downtown and soaking in its beauty.

Before I knew it, it was time for my chest MRI. They got my iv in, and took me back for a very uncomfortable 40 minute stretch. Laying on my stomach, with a bar going down my sternum separating thing one and thing two as they hung through little windows to be scanned. My sternum is still sore from it. I never wanted the MRI. I felt it was a waste of time, and an unessecary procedure that would reveal multiple necrotic fat cysts.. just as I had been told for the past six months. As directed by both my breast health Dr and my plastic surgeon I agreed to the mri to be safe. They were concerned and said the lumps just didn't fit the criteria of fat cysts.

Before heading home we enjoyed the most delicious dinner on the outside patio of The Half Barrel.

We finally made it back home around 1 am. My bed never felt so good.

I didn't expect the results for a good 48 hours, and I was certain the scans would come back clear so I didn't think much about it. Then I got the phone call. I was at Wal-Mart getting groceries for the family in preparation for next week's surgery. I never expected what happened next. Aside from the large number of cysts, My mri showed a sizable concerning mass on the right side. I was asked to come back to Mayo tomorrow! They want/need to see me to do an ultrasound and biopsy of it before surgery next week. If it is nothing to be concerned of then surgery will remain set for next week. If not, well then we cross that bridge when we get there. I'm exhausted in So many ways, yet have turned my emotions off. I don't have time to feel right now. I don't get to be affriad or play the "what if" game in my head. To me, this is another precautionary step to complete to be ready for surgery. Everything will be ok, because I'm here, and I'm alive. I've got my gas tank filled, a cooler of coconut water energy drinks, and am ready for trip number three. My mom's joining me for this one. I have to leave tonight around 2am, to make my 930am apt in the morning. I don't even know how to feel, so I feel nothing. This mri was supposed to be clear. But life is funny that way. I am doing ok, and I'm taking it all in, one step at a time. Just as I always have.

And so the journey continues

I don't even know how to start this blog. I've tried writting it in my head a million times. I know you have all been patiently waiting, and thank you for giving me the space I needed to wrap my head around the next step. I just don't know where to begin. It's been a long long 4 years. I can't even describe the pain you feel when you have a mastectomy. You say it's not that bad, but you hope like hell the pain meds cloud your memory of it enough that you don't remember much. Once the worst is over, you think you've reached the end of the road, yet you turn the corner and there's another long stretch, and another, and another, and before you know it you've been driving for years, unsure of where you are, or where you're going. It's sort of like that after a mastectomy. It is more than anyone could imagine. It is complex, and unique to every individual. Some have a longer race than others. One thing I know for certain is that a mastectomy is not an end, but the start of many new beginnings. Each better than the last.. but for no reason other than the idea that things will get better after this. So you continue to push, even though part of you doesn't want to.

Often times I feel as if I've been stuck on a carousel, dizzy and unable to climb off. I want to, but I can't. I want to leave this all behind me, but my journey isnt over just yet. You can't run a marathon and quit during the last mile. I never imagined things would be like this. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I also didn't imagine 8 surgeries. I pretend to be ok, but there have been moments I've been in so much pain I've literally felt insane. It has been so intense and nauseating at times that every part of me hated every part of them, and I wanted so badly to rip these implants from my chest just so I could breathe. My implants are beautifully constructed torture devices!! The weight of them is suffocating. Yet, while I hate them, I also have grown to love them. They have been part of my reflection for two years now.

Fake it until you make it has become my way of life. I've gotten pretty damn good at it too!! But, every so often I can't take the pain anymore. I tell myself it has to get better than this. I swallow my pride and call my Dr for an appointment. I have anxiety every time I walk into her office. Its the same thing every time. She tells me I shouldn't be in so much pain, it doesn't make sense. This last time she upped my gabbapentin and told me that I will never be the same again and at some point I'll have to accept that this is as good as it will ever get. I'm reminded I'm one of the 30% of women that has post mastectomy pain syndrome. This is my life now. She tells me I shouldn't be running, "it's bad for your knees anyway." Running is my passion, I need it back in my life. I've asked about the mass number of lumps developing in my chest and they've been said to be necrotic fat cysts, a side effect from the fat transfers I had. She says the lumps are just part of me now. So I ignore them, and pretend I can't feel the pain, I wear a smile, and refuse to let anything hold me back from the joys of life. This is the only life I have.

A friend and fellow mastectomy warrior reached out to me and encouraged me to see the plastics team at Mayo for another opinion. I contemplated the idea for some time. What did I have to lose?? The idea of being told the same thing as my Dr here has been telling me for the past two years terrified me. I didn't want to waste the time, and resources to travel all that way for nothing. With the love and support of my friends and family I decided to give them a shot. It was at that appointment that my entire world changed.

I LOVED everyone on my plastic surgeons team there at mayo. They were genuine, and had every bit of confidence that this is not my forever. I have a chance at a pain free life!!!! I am nervous about the road ahead of me, but I know, in the long run this is the best decision. I Will be traveling back to Mayo Monday for an MRI on my chest. My Dr there is very concerned by the number of masses I have acquired, and says they do not meet the criteria as being necrotic fat cysts as my Dr here has pushed them off to be. So that's step one. If my mri comes out ok then we continue with the next chapter of my story.

Mayo will become a second home, with a team that will feel like family. The journey will become routine and will be the subject of many car dancing, starbucks drinking, hotel staying adventures. It all starts now. They want to do surgery Sept. 7th, which is coming so insanely quick that I'm freaking out a bit. Never did I expect to hear there is a solution to the chronic pain I've lived with the past two years. The issue is simple. I'm tiny, and currently have giant implants placed UNDER my muscles. Not only are they too big for me in general, but they are too wide for my chest wall to contain. My muscles can't tolerate being constantly stretched over them... it's too much for my body and it's unnatural. Many surgeons don't even use this form of reconstruction anymore.. yet here I am. This is partly why I'm so uncomfortable and why simple daily tasks cause such nauseating pain. Things as simple as washing my hands, or cleaning the counters morph my implants in ways you couldnt believe. I excepted that this is my life. I have been living with a 25lb weight limit, and restrictions where my chest muscles are involved. (I really miss lifting weights and doing pusshups). The idea that I was given such large implants without choice really upset the team at Mayo. They appolgized for my experience and said while this may not eliminate all pain, I need to have the procedure done. These are too wide and too heavy for my small frame and should never have been placed on my body. So the day before surgery we will meet and together, my surgeon and I will pick a smaller more proportionate implant, with the perfect width, shape and projection for my body. I'm currently a large 32ddd. I would love to be a nice 32d again, as I was before this journey began. She will do a total reconstruction of my chest. She will relieve my muscle of it's strain and place it comfortably back against my chest wall, as it should be. My new implants will be wrapped in cadaver tissue and placed above my muscle in a nice new pocket. By going smaller and having to minimize my skin folds, I will lose my nipples...again. and be left with smooth bare skin mounds. I'm a bit torn, I hate them, yet they were my medals. Keeping them would mean a different inscicion and scar, and the risk of them sitting incorrectly once I'm healed. So I've opted to let them go, let my mastectomy scars go, and start fresh. I will be coming home with drains again, and starting another long six week recovery process. An amazingly talented friend of mine will be doing my nipples this time around. He can provide me with something greater than any cosmetic tattoo "artist" ever could. I'm nervous, terrified, excited, not prepared, yet more than ready for this. So here we go... #bulletproofonanotherlevel

If we're not laughing, we're crying

Yesterday my great friend Megan and I hit the road at 3am for the journey to Mayo hospital in Rochester,MN.

We walked around down town, drinking coffee and chatting with strangers. A wise man shared his journey with us, and reminded us that if we arent laughing we're crying. That moment will forever be engraved into my soul. I walked into my appointment, unsure of what to expect. Meeting with the breast health team was a required standard protocol that would earn me a referral to the plastics team if they felt it was a plastics issue. However, when I had spoken to them on the phone, they had expressed concern on my pre breast health, multiple hamartomas and questioned my having them elsewhere. I was nervous of the answers this trip could provide. I hoped they would be able to tell me that they've seen others like me before.I hoped for answers, even though I never wanted this appointment in the first place. It was a long day full of many (tired, over caffeinated) emotions. I left my appointment in tears, trying to get as far away from the hospital before I let them fall. I was a mess, I couldn't breathe and I tried so hard to keep the brewing panic attack at bay. I could feel myself slipping.

My visit with the breast health clinic didn't go as planned. My Dr told me that because hamartomas are so rare, doing any scans to look for them would be too confusing. They don't really know where to look and what to look for. So I will continue to live with whatever disease this is, and be treated when and if new symptoms arise. She wanted me back next week for a mri of my chest wall and at that time I would visit the plastics team. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I felt I made this trip for nothing. I felt lost, and alone as a mystery, just as I always have. I couldn't stop the tears from welling. I wanted to get as far away from the hospital as I could, and never go back. How could I force myself to come back next week?

We got back to our hotel and I took a step back. I walked next to the lake to sit for a while. And. Just. Be. I looked up at the blue sky, and suddenly it all made sense. If we are not laughing we are crying.

In that moment, I was able to catch my breath. I realized my emotions totally took over and I lost sight of what brought me to Mayo in the first place. To see the plastics team for a second opinion. In order to see the plastics team, I had to see someone from the breast clinic to refer me.. to ensure it was a plastics issue. It never mattered how the apt with breast health went. I don't have breasts anymore. There is nothing they can do for me. As for the mri, I'm supposed to have one every 5 years to monitor any damages or changes to my implants or chestwall. At this time, I have decided to opt against the MRI until my 5 year mark. Medically speaking I'm stepping off this carousel. No more needles, no more tests, no more trying to find which .3% of the population I belong to. I am a mosaic. But I am not alone. I don't need a diagnosis to remind me if that. I called the hospital to give my decision and asked if plastics could see me today. They had a cancelation earning me the time to meet with the plastics team this morning at 10. Not with the Dr I had hoped for, but I imagine they are all great. I'm walking in with an open heart and clear mind. It is possible that this pain is my new forever. But I've traveled all this way, the least I can do is see what they have to say. So. Here goes nothing... To be continued.....

These things won't break me

Many have asked me how I'm doing lately, and why I haven't blogged in months. Honestly I've written and re-written this post multiple times over the past few months and couldn't bring myself to hit publish. I've even contimplated giving up this blog all together. I promise I haven't forgotten about you all. I think you've inspired me more than I've inspired you. You keep me writting, even when I want to give up. A few weeks back a girl whom I've never met recognised me at a local bar and hugged me while thanking me for sharing my journey and being a voice of encouragement in her journey. Somehow the universe continues to send me signs reminding me of why I started this blog and why I must continue it. So here goes..

I first began this blog over two years ago with the intention of being a positive light for those embarked on a simular journey in life. To be completely open with you, I've just been trying to live and let go of that part of my life. Mentally I've tried my hardest to turn that page and forget it all. I'm slowly learning that some journeys never come to an end, but go with you and become a part of who you are. I dont want to be that girl any more. Yet I am. This is who I am. I am a mosiac, a beautifully broken work of art. I'm the loud, dance obsessed crazy almost 30 year old that had a double mastectomy at the age of 27 at the hands of a disease that no one knows anything about. Nothing will change that. So I've been trying to live, and enjoy life to it's fullest because I'm here and I'm alive. And I'm still trying to figure out how to identify with myself and who I am as a person.

A few months ago one of my best friends and I made the trip to mayo to meet with their gentics team. Having her by my side helped make it seem like more of a tiny vacation (aside from traveling 6 hours home in a terrible snow storm).

Mayo itself was incredible. Everyone was so kind, and accommodating. Sadly their team was just as speechless about my case as every other Dr I've seen. Genetic mapping, and chromosomal testing revealed nothing other than the fact that I'm a mosaic. This means I didnt enherit my condition from anyone. Whatever chromosomal abnormality I posses is uniquely mine. There was a flaw within the cells of my genetic makeup creating a mutation that lead to this beautifully broken soul. They have no idea what caused my hamartosis and told me I'm unlike any case they've ever seen. They suspect Cowdens syndrome, however the genetic testing for this disease isnt 100% accurate and many test negative even if they posses the disease. I tested negative, and while I do have some sympoms, I dont have enough to be clinically diagnosed. I am to touch base once a year with anything that may have changed with either my symptoms, or the genetics research field as its ever evovling. I was reassured that maybe one day they will have heard of another like me. I really didn't expect answers, it seems to be my luck, but I had every hope they would have an idea. All we really know is that whatever chromosomal abnormality it is, my daughter will have a 50% risk of being just like me. So I pray for answers at some point in my lifetime for her sake, and the sake of others. No one is ever truly alone in this world. I believe that with every part of my being. I laughed and told my husband that one day his family name will be made famous because of me.

I just reached the 2 year anniversary of my mastectomy. On one hand I can't believe it's been so long, yet on the other it feels like it was just yesterday. I wonder if it will ever truly feel real to me?? The Saturday before my surgery My family and I celebrated life on the beach in my swim suit, for one last time. It was the last time I actually felt the sun warm my chest. Every year on my anniversary we make the trip to Lake Gavena and celebrate life and love, and having made it. It has turned into one of my favorite trips of the summer.

I am at that point in the game where the hardest parts are behind me and the side effects of all the surgeries have become my new normal. I've tried to be very transparent and honest with the world while being a positive light for women everywhere. When I'm having a bad day (because I'm human and do) I try to keep it to myself because the world is full of enough negativity. There is always a silver lining. For me that is the rest of my forever with my family. I haven't blogged because I fear sharing my truth will bring you down. I am struggling and I've kept it to myself. Often times I forget that maybe you're struggling too, and maybe my honesty will help you feel less alone. Afterall, that has been my mission from the very beginning. I have no real reason to complain. So many others have it far worse than me. I think that's the part of this entire process that has been the hardest for me. How can I hurt, and feel emotions when I survived, while others didn't?. How can I stare in the mirror and cry two years later? Your mind can provide an annoying dialogue and sometimes our emotions demand to be felt. I think we often beat ourselves up and compare ourselves to others. Yes someone may have it worse, but does that mean we aren't allowed to hurt?? I'm still trying to find the answer to that question. I have many good days, an innumerable amount actually. Im am so greatful and incredibly happy. But as human as I am, I also have bad days, and sometimes they are very bad. I'm learning to cope. Truthfully speaking, I hate my implants. And I'm angry that I hate my implants. I'm angry that I have negative emotions about them, or that I cry when I can't do something as simple as open a bottle or do a single push up. I don't deserve to cry when others have it worse. So I fight with my mind and remind myself of every silver lining. I dream of a day I wont feel pain like this anymore. I didn't expect this. I was supposed to wake up from my implant placement and have this all behind me. So I try with all my might to pretend that it is. I smile, and live, and dance and love this beautiful life I've been given. For whatever reason, I was chose for this life, and I'm trying my best to embrace it. I just can't help my wondering shower thoughts. I see myself topless and smile because I'm proud, and because of how beautiful they are. They really are perfect. I cry because I wish I didn't hate them so much. I wish I had MY breasts back. I wish I had appreciated them more. I force myself to love my implants, but they hurt terribly every day making me wish they were gone. I am said to have post mastectomy pain syndrome. It's caused by severe nerve damage during the mastectomy. My Dr placed me on gabapentin, and it takes the edge off enough that I can sleep at night without the pain keeping me awake. I will have it forever, but I cant help but wonder if the pain would be less if I wasnt toting around these giant implants. They are too much for me. If it wasn't for it meaning another surgery, being out of work, another Dr bill, causing my family more worry, not to mention having to fight with my Dr to even think about it, I would highly consider having these implants removed. My chest walls werent left strong enough for these massive things. I wish I could have picked their size, I didnt ask for 32ddd's. I'm over the daily pain and pull, the deep ache and stretch when reaching my arms out, having to massage them daily while constantly fighting capsular contractor. I miss the freedom of being topless or sleeping without a bra. These are but some of the possible complications you aren't told of before hand. You think there is a clear end to that chapter of your life when you wake up from your implant placement. You even celebrate your finish line..convincing yourself its all over with. But they will always be there, and you learn to deal with your new forever because you're thankful the bad stuff is over and you survived. And because the world reminds those that are still early in life that "you are so young, you need them", and because your Dr told you " you wouldn't identify as a women without them", you continue to deal. You wonder if they are right, and the fear of the possibility causes you to deal. Because none of the domino effect that come with getting rid these silicone nightmares are realistic at this point in my life I deal, and fight to ignore the burning ache. I hate them as much as I hate the numbness that consumes me and protects me from everything that tries to break me. I will always continue to smile and push forward. I will continue to try to embrace my reflection and love these things despite everything that makes me hate them. Even though the bullets of life continue to fire, I will not break, for I am, and will forever be bulletproof. 😍#mastectomylife #BRA

Life after fat grafting

Today I met with my general surgeon for my 3 month follow up in regards to the lima bean and baby pea sized masses we found last fall. The duo reside in my upper outer quadrant of my left "breast" (I don't even know what to call them anymore?) Ultra sound had revealed that they were just oil cysts as a result of my previous lipofill. As with any mass, I have to go in for routine check ups to document any changes. The drill is once a month, then every 3 months, then every 6, then once a year. If you can make it that long without any changes. So far, I can't seem to get past that 3 month mark. Luckily I love my surgeon!

The original cyst (lima bean) has grown a bit and is visible in my tanks etc. She feels confident we can drain it for comfort and cosmetic reasons, but I'm not worried about it at this point. She counted and measured another 10+ masses, I've literally become a braille book 😂 I'm not sure what the book is about, but I hope it's a good one! I have to go in for another ultra sound to be sure the new guys are oil cysts or calcifications as well. My surgeon does not seem alarmed, but wants to be safe and have documentation of them and their diagnosis. It is important to know what they are and be sure none of the new masses are hamartomas forming. If they are cysts like we suspect, we will leave them be. With how many I have, and how close they are to my implants there is nothing we can do about them without putting me at risk. Honestly, I'm over the whole surgery thing and wouldnt do anything about them if I had options. It seems thing one and thing two will forever be the lumpy twins 😂

I know to some there is confusion, and I've received many questions. How can a girl that had a double mastectomy still form lumps? I'm trying to wrap my head around it myself and am honestly becoming quite annoyed by it. I never thought I would still have to have routine visits consisting of "breast" exams, mass measurements and ultrasounds. But it does happen, and it happens more than you would think.

I hope this helps clear some of your confusion. I had a double mastectomy as a result of multiple reoccurring hamartomas that took over my breasts. Hamartomas are a rare tumor entity that little is known about. With certain forms of hamartosis breast cancer is almost certain (85%) no breasts=no breast hamartomas and no breast cancer. The decision was a no brainer and to this day I'm happy I did what I did. I am worth more than my breasts. LIFE is worth more than breasts.

It has been about 18 months since the surgery and I remain hamartoma free. When a mastectomy is preformed all breast tissue is removed, however, cells are microscopically small and there is always a risk of a few cells being left behind. This is why many women with breast cancer go through chemo/radiation to kill off any remaining cancer cells that could have been left behind. I did not have cancer, so I didn't have any of these treatments. Could a few cells been forgotten in the cut? Anything is possible. Which is why routine checkups are common, even post mastectomy, cancer patient or not. Any changes or masses found require examination. It's always best to be safe because that small 1% exists. I have been among that group a few times before. The 2 original cysts I had found last fall were the result of a very common surgical complication of the fat grafting I had done to my chest. As time goes on the fat in my chest is dying. The necrotic fat turns into oil cysts that calcify and harden over time if the body is unable to absorb them. While it is very annoying, and a risk I wasn't made aware of before deciding to continue with the fat graft, it happens and is seen often.

And so I continue forward with life taking it one step at a time. Just as I always have, me and the lumpy twins.