Should mastectomies be called amputations?

June reminds me of many things: my mother’s, and other family members’ birthdays, Dear Daughter’s wedding, other weddings, graduations, summertime memories of all sorts, Father’s Day with and without a father — to name a few. And, oh yeah, June reminds me of my bilateral mastectomy. The date, I mean. Because frankly, I’m reminded of my mastectomy every day.

Words used in Cancer Land have always fascinated me. For example, so much of cancer language is based on war metaphors. As you might know by now, I find much of that realm of terminology bothersome, but of course, many find that sort of language totally appropriate — encouraging even. And, that’s fine, except when it isn’t.

But, I digress a bit. This post isn’t about all that. In this post, I want to zero in on two words in particular — mastectomy and lumpectomy.

Here’s a question for you to mull over…

Should mastectomies be classified as amputations?

Before we go further, what is an amputation?

Usually, it refers to the removal of a limb – such as an arm or a leg.

The definition below is broader and IMO, seems to fit regarding mastectomies too:

Amputation is the loss or removal of a body part such as a finger, toe, hand, foot, arm or leg. It can be a life changing experience affecting your ability to move, work, interact with others and maintain your independence. Continuing pain, phantom limb phenomena and emotional trauma can complicate recovery.

Johns Hopkins Medicine

I don’t know about you, but it’s always seemed to me that the words mastectomy and lumpectomy are inadequate. Both seem too small, too minimizing for such potentially life-altering surgeries.

Or, is this just me?

So again, should a mastectomy be classified as an amputation?

I look forward to hearing YOUR thoughts, so be sure to share them if you’re so inclined.

I wrote about this topic in my new book, EMERGING: Stories from the Other Side of a Cancer Diagnosis, Loss, and a Pandemic.

The following is a brief excerpt from EMERGING, Part 1 (Cancer) “Worry”:

Mastectomies should really be called amputations.

Amputation seems like a better-fitting word than mastectomy, which sounds like you’re talking about an exotic flower or something.

And why are tumors referred to as masses anyway? A mass sounds, well, massive. Yikes.

And the word lumpectomy conjures up, in my mind anyway, the image of a boil or pimple. A little lump. A little inconvenience. Nasty, yes. But not a big deal.

If you ask any woman who’s had a lumpectomy how she feels about it, she will likely not consider it a minor deal. Pimple-like it is not.

It’s more like having a piece of your femininity chiseled away at. Literally. Your breast gets chiseled out a bit when you have a lumpectomy—an inadequate, minimizing word.

When you have a mastectomy, it is not unlike an amputation.

Important body parts are lopped off. Gone. Taken. And they are not so easily replaced.

Prostheses are supposed to be limb replacements, not breast replacements, or “boobs in a box” as some women refer to them.

Lots of women these days choose breast reconstruction following their breast amputations, so they don’t have an interest in or need for boobs in a box.

Reconstruction or no reconstruction, most still don’t just get over this amputation.

No one expects other amputees to just get over losing an arm or a leg, do they?

Maybe that question at the end of the excerpt is why this matters.

Women are expected to undergo these amputations and breast chiselings and then put it all in the rearview mirror. Over. Done. Forget about it. Move on. (After completing parts 2 and/or 3 of the slash, burn, and poison trio of treatments are finished, of course.)

Forgetting isn’t quite that simple, though, is it?

Thinking about this post reminded me of a harrowing scene in an episode of HBO’s John Adams. His daughter endured a grueling, painful mastectomy — before anesthesia or modern surgery equipment. Hard to even imagine such a thing, but it happened. You can read about that here.

Yep. That was an amputation alright.

I’m here to remind you (again) that it’s okay to remember. It’s okay to feel the loss and feel it deeply. It’s okay to grieve for the old you. It’s okay to miss your breasts, and if you had the chiseling version of the slash, your breasts as they once were.

And you get to remember, reflect, and talk about these things not just once, but as many times as you need to. This type of grief, as with other types, has no neat and tidy endpoint either.

As I’ve said many times, this doesn’t mean you’re dwelling on unpleasantness, or that you’re ungrateful, or unable to move forward. No, it means you’re human.

So, if framing your mastectomy as an amputation, or your lumpectomy as a chiseling (or something else), helps in any way, go ahead and do so.

I find that it helps me. Go figure.

You might want to read, Breast Cancer Is a String of Losses and/or Things We Aren’t Supposed to Say

Should mastectomies be called amputations – why or why not?

How do you feel about the term ‘lumpectomy’ – adequate or minimizing?

Have you had either surgery; if so, have you been able to put it in the rearview mirror?

Do you find it hard to express or share about your grief for the old you?

If you like this post, thank you for sharing it!

NOTE FROM NANCY: I wrote about cancer language, cancer worry, survivor guilt, loss, pet grief, COVID-19, DIEP flap surgery, life as an introvert, aging, resiliency, and more in EMERGING. Available at Amazon and most other online booksellers.

I also shared candidly about my cancer diagnosis, bilateral mastectomy, chemotherapy experience, and more in my memoir: Cancer Was Not a Gift & It Didn’t Make Me a Better Person.

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