Three years ago tonight, at 4:45pm, my oncologist’s PA called me to confirm what we already pretty much knew. I had bi-lateral breast cancer. It wasn’t a surprise because the week prior the radiologist performing the biopsies told me she was quite concerned about one of the tumors and uncertain of the other. I said, “So you think it’s cancer?” She said, “Yes I do, based on my experience. I don’t want you to be surprised next week when you get your results.” Seems crazy but I was so grateful for her honesty. I knew she wouldn’t have put her career or my mental state at risk by telling me this if she were not absolutely certain. In fact, I was going to ask her opinion initially and decided against it because I didn’t think she’d say anything.

A week later, 15 minutes before I was to teach 2 acting classes back to back, the oncology PA Jen called to inform me that not one, but both tumors were cancerous. Ugh! She said Dr. Blackwood would call me in a few hours, once I finished teaching. Moments later my students came into the studio and for the next 3 hours I had to focus and teach and transport them into a world of fun, fantasy, my world of acting. It was my best role, to date.

On my short drive home Dr. Blackwood called. She said, “Lainie I’ve called your team and everyone is on the same page.” I had a team! Dr. Wagmiller, my medical oncologist who I’d seen a year earlier and started me on tamoxifen for preventative care, Dr. Blackwood my surgical oncologist and Dr. Spiro my plastic surgeon. He’s the one who found my high risk for breast cancer after he performed a breast reduction on me the year before. She said Dr. Spiro sounded like Eyeore when she told him the news. He was very sad but that’s a side he never showed me. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.

Most of that conversation has become a blur. But I will never forget these 2 sentences. They are forever burned into my memory. “Dr. Blackwood, am I going to make it?” “Lainie, you’re not going to die from this.”

We were headed to Ireland for spring break in 3 days. She said, “Go! Have a wonderful time. We will figure it all out when you get home.” And so we did.

It was an amazing trip, albeit with the looming anticipation of what was awaiting me when I got home. A double mastectomy. It was easy to say that’s what I was going to do. I said it to Tony on my way to the double biopsy. I was upset and angry and as we pulled into the hospital parking lot I blurted out, “If this is what my life is going like, constant biopsies, I’m done. Take them! It’s just not worth it!” Easy to say. But think about it. Wrap your brain around it.
Voluntarily cutting your breasts off. It’s barbaric. It’s mutilating. It’s lifesaving.

We spent a glorious week, with wonderful friends, in what is one of the most beautiful places in the world. The kids didn’t know, so it wasn’t talked about much. If you know me, you know I’m a talker. I need to talk things through, make sense of what’s happening. I didn’t want to bring everyone down and honestly I just didn’t think anyone wanted to talk about cancer on vacation. This was our escape. But it wasn’t easy.

We came home and I was surprisingly calm. I just kept hearing Dr. Blackwood’s voice in my head, “...you’re not going to die from this.” That kept me sane. It also kept me in control. I was choosing to cut my breasts off, not because I had to, but because I chose to. It was the right decision for me, for my family. Tony supported my decision from the beginning and I knew it was the right thing to do. What I didn’t know, was exactly what that entailed. Telling the kids, making the decision on which of many possible procedures, the many surgeries, the emotional pain, the physical pain.

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3 years ago today, my life, my body, my emotional state was permanently altered. I’m still Lainie but with more baggage, a lot more scars and more respect for this precious life. I have “new normals” and I wake up every day, remembering that I’m alive, I’m healthy and I’m incredibly grateful for all the love and support in my life.