A Way in the Wilderness: The Decision, and the People Who Showed Up (Part 2 of 4)

Editor’s note: This is the second installment in A Way in the Wilderness, a four-part series following Laurens County resident JoDee Watkins through her breast cancer journey, told in her own words and with her blessing. In Part 1, Watkins learned of her diagnosis four days before Christmas and began leaning on faith and a few close friends to steady herself. Readers who missed the first installment can find it on the Buzz website. Part 2 picks up in the anxious weeks that followed.

For JoDee Watkins, the 28 days between her diagnosis and her first meeting with her medical team were agonizing. They were also, she came to believe, a gift.

The Laurens County resident, who runs JBW Farm with her husband, Jonathan, used that stretch of waiting to research her options. One of them, she discovered, almost no one had mentioned to her. After coming across the account of a woman on social media who had chosen it, Watkins learned about aesthetic flat closure, a procedure performed without reconstruction.

She also learned that under the federal Women’s Health and Cancer Rights Act of 1998, insurance would authorize removing both breasts and would still cover reconstruction later if she ever changed her mind. She decided on a double mastectomy with aesthetic flat closure, a choice she believed offered the fastest path back to her family and most likely meant no chemotherapy or radiation.

On Jan. 15, Watkins, Jonathan and a close friend met with her interdisciplinary team for two hours. She described her surgeon, radiation oncologist and oncologist as incredible, and said they supported her decision. Surgery was scheduled for Feb. 24.

Then came the part she dreaded most: telling her children.

Watkins and Jonathan have four children (Elijah, 30, AnneDee, 20, Chesney, 17, and SaDee, 15). Their oldest, Elijah, and his wife, Tess, had quietly known for months after Tess noticed a doctor’s appointment on a shared calendar. The couple decided to wait until after surgery to tell their daughter, AnneDee, who was away at college, because of how deeply she absorbs the emotions of those around her.

They gathered the family in the kitchen to tell SaDee and Chesney. Watkins began by asking her children to think of hard times when God had proven faithful, the loss of a business, Hurricane Helene, a car that was given to them when they needed one. Then she told them she had breast cancer.

SaDee sobbed. Chesney sat silent, then broke down. In the weeks that followed, both children began calling their mother every day on the drive home from school, a rhythm Watkins now protects on her calendar so she does not miss the conversations.

She was carried, too, by friends. Jessica, Kelly and Grace coordinated schedules, meals and care. Her friend Wendi, walking through her own pain, booked a flight within 24 hours of a single honest phone call.

And there was Jess Hanna, who had publicly shared her own breast cancer journey in 2020. The two spoke daily. Watkins said that in helping her, Hanna rediscovered a calling, launching a platform devoted to life after cancer that has grown to thousands of followers in a matter of months.

“If the only good thing that comes out of my journey is Jess finding her calling and impacting hundreds of thousands, that’s worth the one,” Watkins wrote.

Part 3 follows Watkins into surgery, an unexpected call, and the hope she hopes others will find.