Now, in addition to the nightmare of cancer, I had the nightmare of having to make a decision.

Two weeks post lumpectomy, the bruising and swelling were slowly going away. I stopped worrying about recovery and started agonizing about what lay ahead. If there were any benefit to doing chemo to decrease my chances of becoming metastatic, I should take it. I want to be alive when my kids get married and spoil my future grandchildren, even if that means torturing my body for a few months.

My husband, Kevin, a family practice physician, tried to talk me down. One-point-six percent is insignificant compared to how it could weaken your immune system, cause permanent nerve damage, osteoporosis it could even give you another cancer or kill you. You should trust your doctor. And your husband.

I wanted to. But the market researcher in me trusted information. I needed to collect qualitative and quantitative data and analyze which choice I would regret more. Which would allow me to live most fully and take care of the people I love?

At restaurants, waiters try to hide their irritation as I scroll through Yelp reviews on my phone to ensure the most popular dishes are being ordered. My notes on choosing a preschool were so robust I turned them into a how-to book. My newfound research project gave me the opportunity to feel as if I were actively doing something to heal myself.

Each night, once I heard Kevin snoring, I sat up against the headboard, turned on my iPad and lowered the screen brightness. I hurled myself down the rabbit hole of news articles, breast cancer websites and community forums. The TAILORx study was so new, however, there wasnt much information and no concrete answer.

In my support group, most of the conversation revolved around tips for getting through chemo the depression, mouth sores, numb hands and feet, and what to do when hair that fell out never grew back. I couldnt relate and didnt want to, yet somehow I envied them for being fighters.

One day I read about another test called MammaPrint. At our next appointment, my doctor happily showed me that those results also supported the argument against chemo. Time had run out and that was the final data point I needed. We arranged to start my month of radiation treatment the following week, followed by five years of daily hormone blocker pills. I apologized for second-guessing. She gave me an understanding smile and replied, Knowledge is power. She hugged me, said congratulations, and I was on my way. Decision made.

Originally posted here:
Is Everyone Doing Chemo Without Me? - The New York Times

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