Breast Cancer Diaries: Jen
Remote Photography by Dave Cooper
Text by Jennifer Cooper
Throughout the month of October, we’re sharing personal stories of women affected by breast cancer. This is part 3 of our series. Here are links to part 1, 2, & 3.
When we talk about cancer, we talk about the fight. But what about after the fight? You know, when people want to get back to the business of doing what gives them pleasure. I guess what I want to know is, where’s the sex in this conversation?
Because the truth is this: People are living long, full lives with and after cancer. And they’re going to want to get it on.
Jennifer Cullen is one of them.
It was a Friday morning and Jen was nursing a hangover when she found the lump under her right nipple. At first, she wasn’t sure if she was still a little intoxicated. But the soberness was real. “Fuck,” she muttered.
She knows specifically it was a Friday morning because she and her husband, Fred, always celebrated date night on Thursday when her kids were with their dad.
Jen and Fred enjoyed their dates. Going out on Thursday nights became their ritual. They ate excellent food, enjoyed a cocktail or two, took long walks, had sex—all the wonderful physical pleasures that bring people closer together. She was 50, feeling good in her body, sexy, desirable.
Then came cancer.
Jen’s first round of chemo propelled her into full-blown menopause. For a woman who still had a normal menstrual cycle, it was a stark transition. “I had one period and that was it,” she says.
And for a writer who wrote openly about her life, including sex—something that gave her immense pleasure—things were about to get very uncomfortable.
While facing a breast cancer diagnosis was scary, Jen felt strongly she wasn’t going to die. She knew she had support. She had excellent relationships with Fred and her kids. And she knew she had access to amazing medical care, including integrative therapies like acupuncture, meditation and massage, which Jen said were instrumental in helping her body fight and recover from cancer.
And she needed them. Because the cancer treatments were brutal and set off a series of other physical changes in her body like Hashimoto's Disease. Plus, menopause combined with her thyroid issue caused weight gain that made her feel uncomfortable in her body. Also uncomfortable? Sex.
“The first time I had sex after everything was awful,” Jen says. At first, she thought it was the lube she used, but then she realized it may have been something more. She made an appointment with her gynecologist, who did a pelvic exam. Jen was right, it was something more.
“My doctor said the tissue in my vagina was gray. It’s supposed to be pink. She did say that it wasn’t the worst she’d seen,” Jen says, adding, “but it also wasn’t the best.”
Jen’s gynecologist recommended something called the Mona Lisa procedure. It’s laser therapy that stimulates collagen in the walls of the vagina, which restores elasticity and blood flow. Meaning, sex won’t be a pain anymore.
The treatment, along with a prescribed vaginal suppository, worked. And while Jen is thankful for the treatment, she wants to highlight that, “it’s $2,100 and it’s not covered by insurance.”
And that’s a problem. Because being able to live our fullest lives shouldn’t be tied to our income level or an insurance company who only knows us by a dollar sign they’ve attached to our care.
It’s been four years since Jen found the lump that morning, and while she says she still doesn’t know if she loves her new body, she is learning to accept it. Thankfully, it’s once again allowing her to enjoy the things in life she loves.
“I’m definitely not that ‘cancer person’ who says their life is so much better because they had cancer. I have a lot of gratitude for a lot of things in my life, but cancer is not one of them. This is not part of my journey. This is a weird thing that happened to my body.”
And while this wasn’t a journey for Jen, there is something she says she learned: the power of reaching out to others.
“Once I made my diagnosis public, I received five or six care packages from people I knew but didn’t know that well. I got a chemo care package from a friend of a friend. Someone I knew in high school mailed me a blanket, socks, and Mad Libs.”
The care Jen received from people she only kind-of-sort-of-knew made her more likely to reach out to other people. “Before, I’d think, Is this too intrusive? Now I’m more like, ‘Fuck it,’—If I feel like reaching out or sending something, I’m going to do it.” She says that those little acts of connecting and letting someone know you’re thinking about them can really help.
And as far as other lessons Jen offers, she’s got a few.
“Talk to people who’ve already been through it. Let them be your guide. Get your teeth cleaned before chemo because you can’t do it after.”There’s also this one for all of us regardless of our cancer status, “Think about all the women who do not have good healthcare. Our system is so fucked up.”
So with that, when you cast your vote this election season, remember to keep those women in mind.
Here’s a sneak preview of our next story…
Dr. Brown
When breast surgeon Dr. Anjeanette Brown sits down with her patients, the real talk begins. They discuss cancer treatments, yes, but the conversations inevitably lead to so much more.
Work, relationships, sex, parenting, race. Nothing is off limits because everything is affected by the reality of breast cancer.
Additional editing on this piece was provided by Kathy Cornwell
Additional story development for this series was provided by Cassie Boorn
Here’s a sneak preview of our next story…
Dr. Brown
When breast surgeon Dr. Anjeanette Brown sits down with her patients, the real talk begins. They discuss cancer treatments, yes, but the conversations inevitably lead to so much more.
Work, relationships, sex, parenting, race. Nothing is off limits because everything is affected by the reality of breast cancer.
Additional editing on this piece was provided by Kathy Cornwell
Additional story development for this series was provided by Cassie Boorn