Breastless in the City
If you want to learn what it would be like to face breast cancer as a single woman in your early thirties than read Cathy Bueti’s memoir, “Breastless in the City.”
In the book (as it was in her life), Cathy’s breast cancer diagnosis and treatment was intertwined with her search for love. Most of us at least faced breast cancer with our spouse by our sides — not Cathy.
See, Cathy’s husband was killed in a car accident when she was 25 years old. Nobody should be widowed that young!
Then she got breast cancer … can you imagine?
Right away the introduction to the book intrigued me … “The probability of becoming a widow at the age of 25 is infinitesimally small; the probability of developing breast cancer around the age of 30 is far less than one in 10,000. If we really think about this, what is the likelihood that these two events would happen to one woman?”
As I reached the end of her story, not only did I want her to thrive as a survivor, I wanted her to find love — I think she deserved to.
But let me take a step back.
Cathy’s breast cancer story is not unlike many others: she found a lump when she was in her early thirties, she went to her doctor, got a mammogram, needed a biopsy, found out it was Invasive Ductal Carcinoma (IDC), she’d need a lumpectomy, perhaps radiation, perhaps chemo … she got a second opinion (something I always, always recommend), and though the two doctors concurred, she still opted for a mastectomy with reconstruction (a wise, wise personal choice because there was indeed lymph node involvement!) … she chose the TRAM flap and MAN don’t I know what she was talking about in terms of her recovery … then needed six months of chemotherapy.
Cathy’s description of the post operative ‘trauma’ and the side effects of treatment were so similar to my own: “The first thing I remember after surgery is feeling as if I’d been run over by a truck! I guess I am still alive, I thought. From my breasts down to my thighs, everything felt like a combination of a burning pain and numbness.”
Yup. I definitely felt that way after my double mastectomy/TRAM flap. Almost exactly that same way. Except that I’d most likely use the phrase ‘hit by a train’ in my memoir (still unwritten, of course, but maybe some day).
Here’s another experience you might recognize as your own: “As I knelt on the floor hugging the bowl, it felt as if all my insides were going to come out. I was shaking, sweating, and wondering how the hell I would get through this. I screamed and pounded my hand on the side of the bowl. Then I started crying. I felt completely alone.”
It was painful to read about someone else’s pain but even more jubilant to read about someone else’s survival — and of course by the end of the book she gets there.
I have to say that the other thread of the book, Cathy’s trials and errors in the dating world, weren’t as easy for me to relate to. Not that I didn’t date but I never utilized online dating services — Cathy’s method of choice.
After dating EIGHT different guys (yes, I counted) I started to wonder if she would ever find another soul mate. Poor Cathy, I kept thinking each time she’d start dating another loser … this sucks. These guys were total schmucks.
I’m so glad this was our April book club selection. I enjoyed reading about Cathy. I love survivor stories in general and this one brought an entirely new issue to light … dating through breast cancer treatment.
I’ll bet you’re wondering if Cathy ever did find someone to share her life with. Well, you’ll just have to read the book yourself to find out, I’m not giving away the ending.
Now it’s your turn … if you read the book, tell us what you thought in the comments below (just don’t give away the ending!).
April 26th, 2007 at 9:49 am
Reading this book was like visiting with a good friend. Cathy is very down to earth and completely honest about her surgery and treatment, and their effects on her relationships with other people. I found the book difficult to read at times because of the painful experiences she went through. Some of the most wrenching parts were when she had to face the thoughtless comments of other people. She describes one time when she decided not to wear her wig to work, and another time she went to the mall, and both situations just made me so sad. Our culture just doesn’t have good ways of dealing with illness and tragedy - we are still living with the vestiges of a mentality that forced sick people to hide in their bedrooms and suffer, silently and alone. So, bravo to Cathy for putting it all out there! I think it would be great if Cathy wrote a sequelt talking about life as a survivor.