When Susan was 40, her doctor recommended a routine mammogram. Just before she put her breasts into the machine, the tech said, “Good luck,” and Susan knew at that moment that she had breast cancer. It was December 8, 2004 when her doctor called her with the biopsy results, but she wasn’t surprised. She took each step one day at a time. Because her risk of bilateral disease was so high, she elected to undergo bilateral mastectomies. When her mastectomy margins were positive and her sentinel node had cancer, she faced radiation and chemotherapy as the logical next steps. She had tissue expanders placed to prepare for reconstruction and had implants. But just before her celebratory trip to Hawaii, the incision over the implant opened, leaving a gaping hole in her breast with the implant exposed. The trip was postponed, and she underwent further reconstruction with a tram flap, deciding against nipple reconstruction. When she undressed for her casting session, she said, “See, my breasts are winking at you.” One breast has a linear scar in its center, while the one with the wound separation has a circular scar. She thinks she’ll get areola tattoos one day, “so they look like nipples from far away.” Overall, she is happy with her cosmetic result, pointing to her chest under her fitted shirt, saying “they never looked like this before cancer!” She says her husband doesn’t care what they look like. He just wants her alive and happy to share in the rich, full life they cherish. 

When her hair started falling out from the chemotherapy, she had a “pull out Mommy’s hair party” with her boys. It gave her a sense of control, and her sons laughed as they removed every hair from her head. She never minded losing her hair, and now relishes the blond curls that have replaced her previously straight hair. She decided against BRCA testing, since she doesn’t have daughters, and she opted to have both ovaries removed, as she’s done with childbearing and wanted to do anything she could to reduce her risk of recurrence or ovarian cancer. While she occasionally has hot flashes, she doesn’t miss having periods and is happy with all of her decisions. She feels that the worst is over, and looks forward to the next phase of her life, when the treatments and surgeries are over, and she can return, cancer-free, to being a school-volunteering mother, a loving wife, a committed friend, an ambitious executive, a gourmet chef, and a world traveler.

When I asked Susan how I should paint her cast, she said, “Well, my family is everything to me.” Liam and Aidan, ages four and six, have been gentle, making sure they don’t hurt Mommy’s “ouchy breasts.” She works for the Dr. Seuss Foundation, and made a point to tell me that she never missed work for cancer treatment, even on days when she was getting radiation or chemotherapy. I asked if she ever felt too sick to work, and she said she never let herself think that way. “My cancer doesn’t define me, and it was important to me that my life go on.”

She loves to travel, enjoying the planning and anticipation of the trip as much as the experience of the journey, with her favorite trip being a visit to Bali, where she stayed at the Four Seasons. She also loves to cook and throw dinner parties, entertaining her guests with filet mignon and braised lamb shanks. The night I had the pleasure of experiencing her cooking first hand, I appreciated her attention to detail, down to the decorative favors on our plates, the flowers on the table, and the wine chosen to complement the gourmet meal.

But all that aside, it always comes back to her sons. She relishes the details of her life- the school birthday parties, her oldest son’s creative and colorful mind, her youngest son’s easy-going spirit. She wants life to go on, and is ready to finally put cancer behind her. Her favorite Dr. Seuss book is McElligot’s Pool. A boy’s unbounded optimism allows his imagination to soar when fishing in a small crack in the earth, in spite of the discouraging words from the pessimistic farmer. He imagines a colorful swirl of sea creatures hidden underneath. “Oh, the sea is so full of a number of fish. If a fellow is patient, he might get his wish! And that’s why I think that I’m not such a fool, when I sit here and fish in McElligot’s pool.”

I am not surprised that this one is her favorite. Susan is like that boy. Even when facing unfavorable circumstances, when negative outcomes pile up and many would lose hope, when fear and doubt might plague those less optimistic, Susan grabs hold of her family, holds her head high, and smiles broadly, braces gleaming, imagining all of the new experiences the future holds, underneath the crack in her life she is putting behind her.