The Phone Call
The day I was diagnosed with breast cancer was the most terrifying moment of my life. I had no family history. I was pretty healthy. Yes, I had needed a biopsy, but I’d had biopsies before because I have dense breasts. I wasn’t expecting this.
I was home alone when Dr. Sue called. That was weird. He wasn’t even the doctor involved in my biopsy - that was my OB-GYN. But I picked up, and he sounded very solemn.
He told me the biopsy had come back positive for cancer. He said we had quite a road ahead of us. Blah, blah, blah. My head was spinning. I was convinced there had been some office mistake. Why was he calling me?
But it wasn’t a mistake.
I hung up and let out this wail - a sound I didn’t even know I could make. I was completely freaking out. Thank God Ted and Sofia weren’t home. What the FUCK was happening?
The Cancer Center
At 7:00 that evening, the head of breast surgery at Cedars called my cell. A surgeon?
Already? What the hell was happening? I made an appointment to see her the very next day.
The Breast Health Service Center in Los Angeles was beautiful and eerily calm. The fourth floor was silent, white, and pristine. I felt like I was walking into heaven. I’d already imagined myself dead and buried, and I hadn’t even spoken to a doctor.
The Decision
The surgeon came in and immediately put me at ease. Damn, she’s good.
I had stage 1 breast cancer - it was about as good a cancer diagnosis as you could hope for.
There were options, and there were pros and cons to each.
One path was a lumpectomy, radiation, tamoxifen for five years, and ongoing scans. The other was a bilateral mastectomy followed by reconstruction. The mastectomy meant three surgeries, including one that could take 11 hours and a hard recovery. We used to debate choices like this on The Doctors. But suddenly it wasn’t a segment on a television show. It was my body and my life.
For me, the bilateral mastectomy felt like the right choice. I didn’t want to deal with this ever again if I could help it. And, I thought, maybe there was a bonus boob job in the deal. It’s a very personal choice - Is that an aggressive treatment? Maybe, but it was the right treatment for me.
What Do We Tell 11 year-old Sofia?
We didn’t want to frighten her. She was just 11 years old. And the truth was, we were frightened ourselves.
I remember telling her something like, ‘You know how Mommy is so on top of her health?
Thank goodness, because they found something that could have turned into a real problem.
So I am going to have to take care of it.’ She said OK and went about her business. I don’t think I even used the word cancer.
The Shame I Never Expected
At the same time, the Doctors ended its run and I was trying to figure out what to do next. In my mind, nobody could know I had cancer. Cancer was bad for business. Who would hire
Patty if she was sick?
I told a very small circle of friends, but otherwise kept it on the down low.
What I can admit now is that I was ashamed. I felt defective. I blamed myself for all those years of drinking, smoking, running around, and making plenty of bad decisions. How could I have done this to my own health?
I had zero compassion for myself. I thought: This is my fault. I deserve this.
Clearly, I was not processing any of this particularly well.
When someone tells me they have cancer, I don’t judge them. I don’t blame them. I feel empathy. So why on earth couldn’t I offer myself that same grace?
The Surgeries — and the Little Blessings
The BIG surgery was the second surgery. I had my first surgery in November, and then the second in December, two weeks before Christmas.
One of my favorite friends, Dom, was coming to LA to do his stand-up show. Whenever he came to town, he stayed in our guest house. Thank God Dom was in town. He’s one of my favorite people, and, well, he IS a comedian. So the house was full of laughter in the days leading up to the surgery.
Little blessings pop up.
The surgery was 11 hours, and I was going to spend four nights at Cedars. We didn’t want to disrupt Sofia’s school schedule or all the pre-Christmas fun.
Our wonderful friends stepped in, taking Sofia everywhere from Disneyland to the snow. She had the best Christmas break with her besties while I recovered. A big blessing.
Honestly, I was terrified to leave the hospital. After four nights of almost no sleep and tremendous pain, I couldn’t imagine even getting to the car.
And God bless Ted, who was in charge of cleaning my drains. I hated those things —especially when one got caught on a doorknob. OUCH!
The Reconstruction
The third surgery was the reconstruction. I’d always had teeny-tiny boobs, and I never particularly liked them. I’d thought about implants for years, but I was always too busy. So if I was going through all of this, I figured I might as well come out with some boobs. I was thinking a C cup.
My plastic surgeon quickly talked me out of that idea. He was right. I would have hated going bigger.
I loved my plastic surgeon. He was very excited to learn I was the executive producer of The Doctors because he was a Dr. Ordon superfan. I mean, who isn’t? He’s a Beverly Hills plastic surgery legend.
I will never forget when I was going in for the big second operation and I was about to go under and my plastic surgeon ran in. He said, ‘Guess what? Dr. Ordon just called me to check on you!’ He was so excited. All I remember saying was, ‘Let’s make Dr. Ordon proud.’
Dr. Ordon makes my heart smile….another blessing!
And you know what? I actually like my boobs now. They’re still small, just a little fuller and perkier, they fit my body. He did a beautiful job.
What stayed with me most was the extraordinary care. These doctors and nurses dealt with cancer every single day, yet they never seemed jaded. They cared about my scars, my mental well-being, and how I’d feel in my body afterward. They genuinely wanted me to feel whole again. Pretty amazing when you think about it.
Cancer Changed My Life
When I started feeling better, I set up meetings to pitch a new show I had created. There was just one problem.I wasn’t excited about these pitch meetings. And the thought of actually producing these great shows made me sick.
I was miserable.
As I was tweaking my pitch for the next meeting, I got an alert on my computer: “Good News About Turmeric!” I clicked the article and spent way more time reading it than I should have. I was more interested in turmeric than my big network pitch meeting. Something changed. I changed.
As much as I loved television, it was very stressful - I walked around with this feeling of dread. But after a cancer diagnosis, suddenly the things that used to keep me up at night seemed pretty trivial.
And I realized something.
I don’t HAVE to do this anymore...I could do something else.
After my surgeries, I finally got the green light to go back to hot yoga class.
I was SO excited. Class started with gentle slow movements. And then completely out of nowhere...
I started sobbing. And I was mortified.
What is happening right now??? After class, the teacher told me it wasn’t unusual. She described how movement can sometimes bring up emotions we’ve been carrying.
Six months of everything I’d been carrying came pouring out on that mat.
Cancer.
Surgeries.
No job.
No money.
Fear.
That was very powerful to me. The mind-body connection. Some people go their whole lives
and never feel that release. And almost immediately, something clicked. I knew I wanted to
create a place where people could experience that kind of connection, too. I was going to
open a hot yoga and Pilates wellness studio.
My family was on board. We sold our house, moved to Delaware, and on June 24, 2024,
Hiatus 24 opened.
Opening Hiatus 24 has been one of the hardest things I've ever done. It’s also been one of the most rewarding. I’ve had plenty of stress, self-doubt, and moments when I’ve wondered what the hell I was thinking.
But I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’m doing something I love, on my own terms, and I know this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Would I ever call getting breast cancer a blessing? Absolutely not.
But some unexpected blessings came out of it.
