Voices of Hodgkin’s Blog
Voices of Hodgkin’s Blog
Voices of Hodgkin’s Blog

“One and Done”

By Rachel Gingold

That’s what one of my treatment options was called when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My breast surgeon laid out the choices in front of me. It was caught early—small, DCIS stage 0. The doctor who gave me the diagnosis called it “practically nothing.”

But when I got a second opinion at Stanford, I learned something critical: my breast cancer was located in the scatter field of the radiation I’d received 17 years earlier for Hodgkin lymphoma. That’s when the conversation shifted, and the options felt overwhelming:

  • A lumpectomy, with or without radiation, followed by monitoring every 6 months.
  • A single mastectomy, with or without reconstruction, and monitoring the other breast every 6 months with alternating mammograms and MRIs
    (aka scanxiety every 6 months).
  • Or, a double mastectomy (prophylactic on the “healthy” breast), with or
    without reconstruction.

Some reconstruction options would require multiple surgeries over time. Each path carried its own risks, its own uncertainties.

My breast surgeon looked at me, observed my escalating anxiety, and said, “You look like someone who would do better with a ‘one and done’ approach.” So that’s what I chose: a double mastectomy with simultaneous reconstruction. Major 11-hour surgery. A recovery that was longer and far more complicated than I ever anticipated.

“One and done” sounded like the best decision—the “let’s get this over with and get on with life” one. But no one told me—no one ever mentioned—the long list of other risks that could come from my original Hodgkin’s treatment. Not cardiac late effects. Not GI cancer. Nothing. I thought I’d chosen “one and done.”

But the truth? It’s never “done.”

It wasn’t until a decade later that I discovered Hodgkin’s International and began to piece it all together. The long-term risks. The late effects. The reality that no one prepared me for.

My medical anxiety shaped my Breast Cancer treatment decision. I didn’t know what else to do. I wish I’d known earlier. I wish I’d had the resources, the knowledge, and the support that Hodgkin’s International provides today.

Because medical anxiety is real. And it’s not just the cancer—it’s the silence, the gaps in communication, and the decades spent navigating the aftermath without a map.

We need to change how we talk about survivorship. Because being a survivor doesn’t mean it’s “done.” It means we need to keep asking questions, pushing for awareness, and supporting each other through the journey that comes after.

If you’ve experienced this, or know someone who has, you’re not alone. Hodgkin’s International is here to help.