By Tabby Duff ----- I guess it makes sense to just start from the beginning – from the moment I found a lump to today: one week on since being told the words no-one ever wants to hear, “I’m really sorry, it’s cancer.” October 2020 I’d woken up late on a Sunday morning with a slight wine hangover, but in one of those really positive, how-great-is-life moods. As I lay there basking in my naïve, happy little state, I suddenly felt some sort of twinge in my right boob. Not too sure what this feeling was, I went to touch it just to see what it was all about. And that’s when I felt a lump. A marble-sized, rock-solid little thing that seemed to have set up camp in my boob overnight. Now, I’m rather ashamed to admit I wasn’t checking my boobs as often as I should have (please don’t make that same mistake), but I truly believe that twinge was my body’s way of telling me I really needed to check. I could say I remained calm and collected upon this discovery but that would be a total lie. I am a MASSIVE hypochondriac. Seriously, even the slightest sniffle sends me into the pits of WebMD hell. So instead of my usual Sunday morning ritual of binging Gilmore Girls with a bowl of Aldi’s own Crunchy Nut, I was on the phone to my mum in tears. Next thing you know she and my dad were driving up to Manchester to take me out for lunch and try to calm me down. I'm such a bloody drama queen. Luckily, the next day I managed to get an appointment with my GP. A quick look and feel, and she told me it was most likely nothing to worry about – I’m only 26 and have no family history of breast cancer – but she’d refer me to the breast clinic anyway just to make sure. 2 Weeks Later My boyfriend took me to the breast clinic after work. For some reason (perhaps deep down my gut knew what was coming), I was nervous – I don’t think I uttered a word to him the entire journey. But after initially seeing the consultant, I was straight onto WhatsApp telling him everything was fine. I believe my exact words were, “good news – the consultant says it’s a benign lump, but we’re just doing a few scans to make sure.” Not-so-spoiler alert: it was not good news. That same evening I ended up having an ultrasound and a fine needle aspiration biopsy. Now, prior to this experience I thought I had a fairly high pain threshold – I’d sat through two tattoos, microblading, and numerous piercings including my nipple – but WOW this really hurt. I cried many, many tears. I almost passed out on the examination table. Fairly embarrassing. I just remember the drive back home, clutching my poor, battered boob and sobbing in pain. Did I mention I’m dramatic? ...Another 2 Weeks Later Finally, the day arrived after weeks of playing the waiting game. At last I’d find out what was going on with my boobies! But alas. My results were inconclusive. I needed to do another biopsy. Fan-bloody-tastic. 1 More Week Later This time, I had a core needle biopsy under local anesthetic (thank the lord). With no aching boob, and no big fat *CANCER ALERT* flashing up on the system, I left the appointment feeling more confident than ever that this was just a cyst or something. Seriously, I’d convinced myself at this point that this was all just precautionary. They did this to everyone in their 20s. I had absolutely nothing to worry about. My family and friends I’d confided in had said the same. Who gets breast cancer at 26? Well, me, apparently. On 10th November 2020 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was given the news completely alone (thanks COVID) and all I remember next is crying, begging for my mum to be let in the room, and holding on to her until it was time to go home. Today Since that day, it’s been an emotional rollercoaster – and that’s putting it extremely mildly. I’ve been upset; sad for my family, friends, and boyfriend for what I’m about to put them through. I’ve felt guilty that it’s my body and I’ve somehow allowed for this to happen. I’ve been so bloody angry – how dare my body do this to me? I’ve treated her so well for 26 years, and this is how she repays me?! But I’ve made it through, with only a few minor breakdowns and HOLY F*** AM I GONNA DIE moments in tow. I’ve had to make huge decisions about my future which I’d never even considered this time last month. I’ve moved back home with my parents. I’ve discussed my fertility options. I’ve told friends, family members, and colleagues about my diagnosis. So yeah, my life has completely turned upside down in a very short space of time. But honestly, I feel good. I feel overwhelmed with love, positivity and good vibes. Everyone has been supportive and amazing. And with each day and every hospital visit, I’m one step closer to beating this thing.

A breast cancer diagnosis is hard news at any age, but being diagnosed in your 20s can be uniquely challenging. For young, otherwise healthy women, it can be especially difficult to accept that this truly can happen to anyone. Since women in their 20s and 30s account for less than 5% off all breast cancer cases, it can feel especially lonely and more difficult to connect with other survivors the same age. Additionally, for many young women who may have still been planning to have kids, fertility becomes another concern. If this is a concern for you, two of our past podcasts that specifically address fertility preservation and egg retrieval may be of interest. In the articles and conversations below, young women share their experiences with breast cancer diagnoses in their 20s, and doctors provide advice about early detection and treatment. Triple Positive Breast Cancer Under 30 (SurvivingBreastCancer.org) In a recent episode of our podcast , Tabby shared with Laura her experience of being diagnosed with breast cancer in her 20s. Triple Positive Breast Cancer Under 30 bring about a unique set of experiences. No one expects to get cancer, let alone, in your 20s. Tabby shares her experience being triple positive (ER/PR HER2+) and how she managed side effects of her chemotherapy regiment. She brings a positive light to a dreadful disease and we can all learn from her realistic optimism. Read More. Too Young to Screen: Breast Cancer in Younger Women (Yale Medicine) If you’re under age 40, which is when it’s recommended that women begin having screening mammograms, you may think you are too young to get breast cancer—but that’s not true. While breast cancer in younger women is rare, it is the most common cancer among women ages 15 to 39. “While breast cancer is most typically diagnosed in post-menopausal women, this is a condition that can and does happen in young women, too,” says Yale Medicine radiologist Liva Andrejeva-Wright, MD, who specializes in breast imaging. Even if you are too young for regular mammograms, it is still important to be "breast aware" to potentially detect cancer early on. While there’s no way to predict who will get breast cancer, some factors put women at higher risk at a younger age. Breast cancer risk is higher in women with a family history (a mother or sister) of breast or ovarian cancers at a young age or who have an Ashkenazi Jewish heritage. Having had radiation therapy in the chest (for instance, for lung cancer treatment) is another important risk to know about. Read More. What It's Like To Have Breast Cancer in Your 20's (The Cut) In this article from The Cut, a young woman shares her experience of being diagnosed with breast cancer at age 28. When she first noticed the lump, she figured it couldn't be breast cancer at her age, but because of the pain she decided she needed to talk to a doctor about it. After her diagnosis, she recalls a lot of shock and denial. "From the day I got my diagnosis until the end of treatment, I didn’t really cry; I was in this state of permanent of disassociation, this prolonged out-of-body experience. I probably didn’t go longer than a minute for the first month without asking someone in the vicinity if I was going to die. They sent someone into my hospital room one day to help me draft up my will; I picked out what I wanted on my grave; I had to think about potential palliative care. And I was so reluctant to do any of it, because there was no part of me that was at peace with dying so young; I was really angry." Read More. If Something Is Off, Get It Checked Out (SurvivingBreastCancer.org) Rebecca, who was diagnosed at age 27, recently shared her story with us on the blog . As a healthy, active young woman with no family history of breast cancer, she never expected to be diagnosed with breast cancer. After painful symptoms that lasted for over a year and were initially dismissed by her doctor, she decided she needed to get a second opinion. She encourages others to get a second opinion if they believe there is something wrong. Along with her doctor, she has opted for a double mastectomy and reconstruction. And, now a medical student, she's not letting her diagnosis stand in the way of her dream of becoming a doctor herself! Read More.

By Jennifer Reynolds Hi, I'm Jennifer. I am a mother of three and have been married for twenty years. We have a great life. I worked as a postpartum/ newborn nursery nurse and lactation consultant for a large hospital for almost twenty years. For the last few years, I have been self-employed with my own business; I do home visits for new moms and babies as a doula and lactation consultant. My job is very rewarding and I love it. Lately, I have not been working much. This year was supposed to be a good one after last year not being the best. But unfortunately, it wasn't. After a routine mammogram, I was called back for more tests. They did ultrasounds, biopsies, scans, and more. I was then diagnosed with breast cancer, left side IDC stage 2b. I had it in my lymph nodes. This was the most shocking news, and I never... ever anticipated THIS. I was very overwhelmed and so was my family. They knew I had to fight. I was started on chemo after my tests, blood work, and more. My chemo was six rounds, every three weeks. I had a port which did end up being a good thing. I did cold capping which is very expensive, but my family wanted to pay for it to keep as much hair as I could. I am glad I did. They also found out that I am PALB2 positive which complicates my case. I have no idea how or why I have this. My mom and daughter have since been tested, and they are negative. So recently, on June 30th, I had a DMX with reconstruction and lymph dissection. Six were found, and they took eight. This has been very difficult. I am emotionally up and down. I have a long road ahead. I have been healing well and have had three fills. I have my radiation MD consult this week. That will be for six weeks. I also have to be on two different meds to help prevent reoccurrence. I have an amazing family and support. I have a very busy and full life... but what happened to my old life? Everything has changed. I will keep working on getting stronger to fight this and do my best. Some days are really hard, and some are better. I pray and look forward to better, more stress-free days. Thank you for sharing your story, Jennifer. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Positive Thinking for Healing Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups

By Susan Hi, my name is Susan. I’m a breast cancer survivor. I’m a warrior, a fighter, and a strong woman. This is my story. I was initially diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS). A small cluster was found during my annual mammogram. I was 44 years old. Waiting for that phone call, that several people assured me would be negative, was in fact DCIS. I made an immediate appointment to meet my breast surgeon. This gracious doctor held my hand during 2 lumpectomies , a seroma , and making the decision to have a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction . On September 11, 2018, I had my surgery. I said goodbye to my old breasts and was ready to battle ! I woke up from surgery to be told that my sentinel lymph nodes were cancerous. All my lymph nodes on my right side were removed. Further testing was required and that I was going to have to have further treatment. My initial thought was, I am so glad that I got a bilateral mastectomy . On September 17, I was told that 2 tumors were found in my right breast tissue, and that they were riddled with DCIS as well. I had 3 tumors in my lymph nodes . Thankfully my left breast tissue was clear. I have zero regrets about this decision. My life is more important to me. Stage 2a Invasive Ductal Carcinoma was my diagnosis. ER+, PR+ HER2-. I chose to be aggressive with my treatment. I compiled a team of doctors to guide me through. I had 4 rounds of AC (red devil) , 12 rounds of Taxol and then 25 rounds of radiation . Chemo was physically draining. Radiation was emotionally exhausting. I’m pretty sure I cried for 2 weeks straight. Through all of this though, from the moment of diagnosis, my husband was by my side, and my best friends, Janet and Jen, guided me through this. And my community, Beverly, MA, just amazing. People came out to support us without a second thought. We were showered with love, food, baskets of goodies, friendship, and so much more. They’re all part of my tribe. When faced with breast cancer, it’s so scary. Find your tribe. Your people, who will be there no matter what, because you’re going to need help. Let people help you. I couldn’t have made it through this without the support of my tribe. Thank you for sharing your story, Susan. SBC loves you! Read More Diagnosed with DCIS After a Clear Mammogram SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Positive Thinking for Healing Online Support Groups

By Tonya My name is Tonya Thomas, and in February 2019, I was diagnosed with an aggressive stage 3 breast cancer . I completed 16 rounds of chemotherapy over a 5 month period. On Tuesday, August 27th, 2019, I underwent a double mastectomy . I wasn't sure how I would feel after the surgery. Would I feel devastated, angry, sad, or less than a woman? Would I feel less than a whole person? Surprisingly, I didn't feel any of the things listed above. I feel free. I feel free to welcome this new version of me, and I love her even more. SHE IS STRONG! SHE IS AMAZING! SHE IS ME! Thank you for sharing your story, Tonya. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Positive Thinking for Healing Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups

Submitted by Rod Ritchie of MaleBC.org, in honor of Gary Wong, 1955-2021 Diagnosed in February 2019, Gary was just 55 when he passed in hospital, in May of this year, surrounded by the family he loved. Gary’s cheery disposition and optimism infected those around him. He was determined to never give up, and he espoused a healthy diet and regular exercise, not just to give himself extra time, but for better quality of life. To his siblings, his kids, and his partner, he gave love and attention. As he said, he wanted to bring all who he encountered happiness. Gary knew breast cancer is not just about men or women, rather it was more about beating cancer itself. He had just been appointed to the Board of Advisors for ProjectLifeMBC, a survivor initiative based in San Francisco, for those with metastatic breast cancer. He was a diligent advocate for all guys with breast cancer. Gary doubled his prognosis estimate, and we’re all so much richer for the extra time we had with him. Thank you for honoring Gary, Rod. His legacy will live on. SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Affirmations & Meditations Guide Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups

By Cheri In honor of #breastcancerawareness month, I thought I’d share a few things I’ve dealt with as a survivor! #cancerfighter 1. “I’m sicker than you are.” There’s no need to out-sick me. I appreciate but don’t necessarily want all this attention. I actually had “friends” delete me from their life and social media because they felt like their cause was worse but I was getting too much attention. Seriously? You can have it. I just want my boobs back. Thanks. 2. “There’s people everywhere raising money for you.” My friends and I have raised thousands of dollars for breast cancer patients. I’m not eligible for a cent because I have insurance and am employed. So if my amazing friends want to host fundraisers for me, it’s because I’m a good friend to them and would do the same thing. You should try it. Not to mention the money they did raise is just a percentage of the money we owe. I'm not going on extravagant trips. I don't even get my hair done. I don't have a maid. I have an 11-year-old car and live in a house from the 80’s. I'm just trying to keep my life as normal as it was before and not worry everyday about the "what-ifs." 3. “You get a boob job!” I didn’t choose this. When they removed my breasts, I became concave. So even with the biggest implants that an ethical plastic surgeon will use, I’m still smaller than I was before. Plus, I have 7-inch-long scars where my nipples used to be. Pretty sure no one requests that at their plastic surgeon appointments. 4. “I don’t know what to say to you.” Did we talk before? Why can’t you say the same things? I haven’t changed. But if you stopped talking to me, then you changed. Give me a hug. I love hugs. 5. "My so and so died from that cancer." Why do you think I want to hear this? Do you think you are encouraging me? I get that you are trying to connect with me and let me know you understand how bad it is. I wake up every day thankful that I WOKE up so I don't need a reminder that it could kill me tomorrow. Life is tough. I could feel sorry for myself every day. But I choose life. To get up and be strong and fight. Do I cry and get upset? Just about every day. But this life is better than the alternative. I’m going to live my life and enjoy every single day I have left. I'm going to spend time with my family and try and keep some normalcy just in case I ever have to hear those words again, "It's cancer." I hope you never have to hear those. Thank you for sharing your story, Cheri. SBC adores you and your realness! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Positive Thinking for Healing Check out our podcast Online Support Groups

By Emily Cook I’m a 32-year-old United States Capitol Police Officer who was recently diagnosed last month with triple negative invasive lobular carcinoma. Previously, I was on Metropolitan Police Department’s mountain bike team and currently live in Maryland with my girlfriend and two French Bulldogs. I lost my mom to breast cancer in 2013 and my dad in 2020 to Covid. I fight this fight for those who have lost, those who continue to fight, and those who have survived. Connect with Emily via Instagram: @Emiliah_halfpint Thank you for sharing your story, Emily. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Jennifer Douglas In 2019, I was diagnosed the day before my 42nd birthday with DCIS - Ductal Carcinoma in Situ- Stage 0 Breast Cancer. I sat in shock in my surgeon’s office with my best friend taking notes next to me as the doctor discussed the findings of my biopsy the week before. I walked out of the office with appointments to make, a tentative surgery date on the calendar, and a feeling of overwhelm cascading over me. I had no idea how to break the news to my husband and high school-aged sons. How could this be happening to me? I didn’t have time to be a breast cancer patient. How did this process start? It was my annual screening mammogram that caught my DCIS . The mammogram revealed calcifications in my right breast that prompted a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound. After all that imaging was complete, I was referred to a surgeon for further care. I was no stranger to abnormal imaging because I have several fibroadenomas in my breasts. These are benign breast findings and feel like marbles in my breasts when I do my self-exam. I had seen this surgeon several years previously for a biopsy on these findings. I was not excited to be heading back to another appointment with him. I came prepared with lots of questions for my appointment. However, the surgeon was focused more on reassuring me that it probably wasn’t cancer rather than addressing my concerns. The appointment abruptly ended when he got called away on an emergency. I had more to ask, but he was gone. The nurse directed me to the scheduler to get a biopsy set up. Something inside me went off like a warning bell. I felt frustrated and scared, and I hadn’t been diagnosed yet. I needed to have a surgeon who would take the time to answer my questions. I decided to seek out a second opinion. This decision turned out to be one of the most important things I did during my diagnosis process. The appointments and care at this second medical group were thorough, individualized, and not rushed. Imaging Galore and Biopsies... So Many Biopsies Once I decided to establish care with my new breast surgeon, he ordered new imaging- mammograms and ultrasounds on my breasts and then biopsies on the calcifications. One of the things I appreciated about the diagnostic imaging at this new facility was having a conversation with the radiologist immediately after my imaging. I was able to ask him about my calcifications and get his opinion on them. He was especially concerned with them because of their shape and urged me to get a biopsy. Throughout my diagnosis process, I ended up having five biopsies. The first and second biopsies were on the findings from the mammogram, and the other three happened after my MRI showed areas of concern in the opposite breast. The biopsies were what I hated the most throughout my diagnosis and treatment. During my first mammogram-guided biopsy, I passed out during the procedure. Thankfully the radiologist was able to continue the biopsy and get a sample. I made sure to warn the radiologists before my other biopsies that I might faint. I did better during my ultrasound and MRI-guided biopsies because I was lying down. There was something about sitting up during the mammogram-guided biopsy that didn’t work for me! I opted to have genetic testing done because of my age at diagnosis. My surgeon had recommended a lumpectomy for my DCIS, but wanted to make sure that I didn’t have any variants that would impact my recurrence rate. I was thrilled when the additional biopsies performed after my MRI were benign, and my genetic testing came back clear. These final steps in my diagnosis meant that I could make a surgical decision. Surgery- Finally I ended up deciding on a lumpectomy to remove the DCIS . The DCIS was only about 4 mm, and my surgeon was confident he could remove it and minimize any disfigurement. He also removed a benign fibroadenoma from my opposite breast during the surgery. I had never been under general anesthesia before, and I was terrified of the process. When I talked to other people about my fears, they made it seem like no big deal. But it was to me. I remember talking to my nurse just before they took me down to the surgery floor about my fears. She encouraged me to think pleasant things right before they put me under, and I would wake up feeling those emotions. So as they put the mask on me, I thought of my husband and the wonderful times we’d had together. The next thing I knew, it was all over. I laughed and cried. I couldn’t believe it was over. I woke up feeling relieved and happy. The lumpectomy was done as an outpatient procedure, so I could come home that night. It was wonderful to fall asleep in my own bed. The following day I woke up, disoriented at the light streaming through the shutters. For the first time in months, I slept all night and woke up without anxiety. A few days later, I got a phone call from my surgeon. He was in between surgeries but wanted to call me to say they had gotten clean margins in my lumpectomy . So, I wasn’t going to need another surgery! What a relief. I could concentrate on recovery and think about the next treatment options. Post Surgery Treatment: Radiation and Tamoxifen After a few weeks of recovery, my surgeon cleared me to see the oncologist. He discussed that I had the option of doing radiation and taking tamoxifen for five years. The radiation would eliminate any DCIS not yet visible on imaging, and the tamoxifen would reduce my risk of recurrence by lowering my estrogen levels. I made an appointment with the radiation oncologist, but I wasn’t sure if I would go through with radiation. The thought of getting the treatment was pretty terrifying. I had done a lot of research, and I knew that pairing radiation with a lumpectomy would reduce my risk of getting breast cancer again. My family had been through so much disruption with my diagnosis and surgery over the last few months. A part of me wanted to be done with this cancer treatment and skip the extra month of treatment. My radiation oncologist was amazing. During our consultation, she addressed every single one of my questions. She was patient and also extremely knowledgeable. As we discussed whether or not I should do radiation, she was candid with me. She said, “If you were older, I wouldn’t advise you to do this treatment. But you are only 42. Hopefully, you will have 40 more years of life. There’s a possibility other areas of DCIS are in your breast, but imaging can’t see it yet.” That did it for me. After that, I was committed to the radiation. I had 20 treatments of radiation spread over four weeks. It was exhausting, and my skin burned and peeled twice. It was tough to go through Christmas season 2019 going to treatment every day. My husband was able to work from home at that time and drive me to my daily appointments. The location was close to our house, so it was about an hour from start to finish each day. I had a severe case of radiation fatigue and couldn’t do much during that month except rest and put lots of lotion on. I finished radiation on December 23rd, 2019. That Christmas with my family was precious. We had made it through the trauma of cancer together. I began tamoxifen on January 1st, 2020, and was able to stay on the medication for about nine months. Unfortunately, the side effects, especially the persistent rib pain, impacted my quality of life to the point that my oncologist recommended I stop taking it. Nevertheless, I’m happy I tried taking it. I’m also grateful that my oncologist was willing to listen to my concerns and cared about my side effects. Life After Treatment I was surprised at how hard this cancer treatment was on my family and me. I was diagnosed at stage 0, didn’t need chemotherapy, and only had one surgery. Yet I was physically, mentally, and emotionally drained in ways I had never been before. I realized that a Stage zero diagnosis doesn’t mean zero challenges. Shortly after finishing radiation, I decided to write a book about my experiences. I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing. Each morning I typed until I had nothing left to say, then closed the lid of my laptop and went along with my day. For months this was my routine. I poured out my heart, delved into the emotions, shared what I had learned , and then went back to my day as a virtual school parent and homemaker. In the spring of 2020, I realized I had the first draft of a book. I was delighted that I’d followed through with my writing. I had always dreamed of being an author but had never completed a manuscript. Breast cancer taught me that I might not have unlimited time on the planet. I needed to share what I had been through and help others facing the same diagnosis. Over the past two years, I have embraced a new calling of being a writer and a breast cancer advocate. I didn’t expect that a surprise diagnosis of DCIS would lead me to this new vocation, but each time I’m able to share my story and offer encouragement, I feel inspired to continue. Connect with Jennifer via social media: Twitter (@mmejendouglas) : https://twitter.com/mmejendouglas Instagram (@mmejendouglas) : https://instagram.com/mmejendouglas Thank you for sharing your story, Jennifer. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Charmica Knight Last weekend I went to my special place (the bathroom lol) to think and reflect. This ultimately resulted in soggy eyes as I read through a post on a support board that I follow. The discussion was legacy and how this mother of 3 young children wanted to capture the moments of her life in a time capsule. I read and follow a lot of postings but this one just really hit home and shook me to the core. My fellow breastie was no older than 35 and had received a similar diagnosis, which was stage 2 cancer. After following all of the standard protocols for treatment she was saddened to find that cancer had returned a year later but this time it was metastatic. For those of you not familiar with the term metastatic, it means that those pesky breast cancer cells migrated to another organ or bone. So just like that she was catapulted to a stage 4 diagnosis and was told to plan for worst case scenario. This all can be so overwhelming and hard to manage when I truly pause to think about the severity of my type of disease. To think that the first medical "something" I face is the one with the worse prognosis and highest recurrence. Now don't get me wrong 69% percent survival and 50% recurrence aren't terrible odds but when you look at other types of breast cancer and see 90% - 98% for both it can be disheartening. I try very hard to not live in the space that I sometimes visit that is plagued with worry and doubt. Why? Because I remember that I have survived 100% of my worse days and this will be no different. Not to mention I owe myself the opportunity to live which means I will fight this with all that I have in me. You know what also helps? You! The person taking the time to read this post, the ones who still send me texts and emails just to check in, the cards because anyone who knows me would know that I love to receive mail, and the prayers that I cannot hear but I know are coming in on my behalf. Thank you. This all keeps me focused on the prize which is beating this disease! I am happy to report that my last round of tests showed that my tumor and lymph nodes have shrunk by 50%!! This is huge because I am still early in my treatment so plenty of time to see continued progress. Please keep sending those prayers, well wishes and thoughts for continual response to these treatments. I appreciate you all and thank you for keeping me lifted. I will rise up… I'll rise up Rise like the day I'll rise up In spite of the ache I will rise a thousand times again And we'll rise up High like the waves We'll rise up In spite of the ache We'll rise up And we'll do it a thousand times again ~ Song by Andra Day Thank you for allowing us to share your journal entry, Charmica! SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Cora Fahy As I sit by the fire on this cold winter night, I am contemplating my upcoming birthday, while remembering previous birthdays that had a big impact on my life. I had hoped my 47th birthday would bring better tidings than the previous few years had. At 45, my husband divorced me, telling me in no uncertain terms... I’m DONE with you! 46 had challenged me to learn what it was like to live alone again, AND also almost took another of my siblings away from me. Forcing me to face the grief of loss square in the eyes yet AGAIN!! But instead of a wee break from the chaos, 47 brought me breast cancer instead. And what does one do when faced with ANOTHER storm ……well, you pull on your wellies (aka Wellington boots) and figure out how to navigate it! That’s what. And here I am, almost 7 years later and about to turn 54 in a few days, still navigating as best I can, and advocating so that others might have less to deal with on their own journey through cancer. And my advocacy is not big stuff, like starting organizations or organizing big fundraisers etc. It’s the small things, like being available when your friends reach out and say, ”Someone I know just got diagnosed, would you be able to talk/listen to them." Or like working in the PT community as a Cancer Exercise Specialist PT Assistant, and being able to offer some real world experiences to my patients, as I have walked the walk with some of the same treatments they are going through themselves. I’ve learned a load of things since being diagnosed with breast cancer, and one of them is to just “show up. ” To show up is defined as “to proactively commit to something; to seriously (rather than casually) pitch in and work.” To be there for others, in some way is also being there for yourself. It makes sense of the chaos, and helps give you a focus. A purpose. It helps lessen the loneliness that all of us feel when we hear the words, “It’s cancer.” So show up as best you can, because you never know how much that may help the next person who hears those awful words. Or is faced with ANY life changing challenge for that matter. Connect with Cora on Instagram: @boobambassador Thank you for allowing us to share your story, Cora! SBC adores you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Heather Glover I'm one of the 55,000 women diagnosed with breast cancer, and one of over 10,000 women who lose their breasts as a result of the disease each year in the UK, and DON’T have reconstruction. In my mid 40s, whilst living an active and happy life, I found what felt like a large breast lump in my right breast whilst taking a shower. I wasn’t worried at all. I had a shower in the morning, worked as a nurse all day, returned home and ate dinner with my family, before heading out to the gym that evening. Cancer couldn’t happen just like that (so I thought). Besides, since being a teenager I had experienced many breast lumps. I had undergone investigation and scans - I’d had a mammogram 23 months earlier for a breast lump - it always turned out to be “nothing,” so I wasn’t worried on this occasion. Having been a nurse all of my working life, I never knew there were so many forms of breast cancer (triple negative, HER2+, lobular, inflammatory, etc.). Breast cancer had touched my life very recently as my sister in law was diagnosed 7 months before me. She was two months older than me, we went to school together, and she too had TNBC. Unfortunately, we still do not have a cure for breast cancer and Catherine passed away before she reached 50, in March 2020, just as the Covid pandemic was announced and the UK lockdown began. After my Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC) diagnosis , I received chemotherapy from the summer until just before Christmas 2017. When I had surgery in January 2018, a lumpectomy and Wide Local Excision (WLE) and removal of my lymph glands (as cancer had infiltrated one of my lymph nodes) - I was informed that the tumor was exactly the same size as before all that chemo. That worried me a lot. What if it had escaped and spread and was resistant to the toxic effects of these drugs? I completed my course of treatment with radiotherapy in March 2018. I returned to nursing in May and trained for a half marathon, which I ran in under 2 hours, in Sept 2018. At the beginning of December 2018, I was feeling tired - but isn't everyone exhausted on the run up to Christmas? I was woken in the night with severe breast pain in my affected side . Of course, paranoid, I got checked out straight away. Despite a really thorough examination, there was no abnormality except a slightly swollen breast. I had suffered with a seroma when I had my initial surgery, and the opinion of the breast care nurse was that my exercise regime (press-ups) had caused localized trauma and this in turn caused the pain and swelling. Nothing sinister to be found, phew, all was ok. Seemed like a logical explanation to me. (My sister-in-law’s breast cancer had recurred by this point.) Just 4 weeks later, on New Year’s Eve 2018, while taking a shower, I found a big lump on my scar line. I was devastated. I felt immediately sick this time around. I was petrified. Fast forward to the end of my investigations, stage 3 TNBC had returned , twice as big and twice as aggressive. This was due to the increase in the tumor marker Ki67 (also sometimes referred to as a biomarker) which was 18% at my first diagnosis and 78% subsequently. This actually led to some debate as to whether this was a recurrence, or a new primary, but either way, the treatment plan was the same. In Feb 2019, I had a single mastectomy . My surgeon had agreed to perform a bilateral mastectomy as a preventative measure, but I would have had to wait an extra week for his theatre time. My right breast was so painful and I couldn’t sleep due to the worry and pain, so he brought my surgery forward and I underwent a mastectomy without reconstruction. They were worried that the skin wouldn’t heal due to previous radiotherapy, so I was unable to have reconstruction, or even an expander. I didn’t have enough flesh anywhere for a flap reconstruction, hence I remained flat. I then underwent 4 of 6 months chemotherapy- I just couldn't tolerate the full course. Whilst I didn’t lose all my hair this time around with a different cocktail of chemotherapy drugs , and I wasn’t even sick, I felt like I was slowly being hammered into my grave. I felt like my heart would stop or I’d just stop breathing - just like that. After the first dose I said I wanted no more - this terrified my family. I said the same after every dose, until I finally reached 4 months and said that was enough. In spring 2019, I joined the charity Prevent Breast Cancer, and I think this is what helped pull me through that chemotherapy regime , as well as my family. 100 women from the Greater Manchester area were invited to become “BooBees” and we travelled in a big pink bus raising both awareness amongst the community, and funds for the charity. The camaraderie and friendships, the laughs and the tears and having a purpose apart from just surviving, had a real positive impact for me. I now do as much as I can to raise support and awareness for the important work they do, as they believe they can predict who is at risk of breast cancer, and can prevent the disease from developing with targeted screening, protecting the lives of our future generations. In January 2020, I had risk reducing and symmetrizing mastectomy to my left breast. Reconstruction wasn't a possibility for my first surgery due to my skin having had previous radiotherapy. So my second mastectomy was performed to look the same. I couldn't get along with using prosthetics - I felt like I was changing character every time I put my bra on, I felt fake, I felt constantly reminded that I'd lost my natural breasts. I still wanted to wear pretty lingerie under summer blouses and dresses or just to tease my husband though, and I couldn't find any. Fast forward to 2021... the birth of the Skarlette - a beautiful flat bra designed by flat women, for flat women . This was the result of my friend Kate making me my own most beautiful flat bra, as I was so disappointed and frustrated with the poor selection of lingerie available for a flat chest. I felt so incredibly amazing that I wanted to share this experience with every woman in a similar position to me. I hadn’t even realized how “unfeminine” I must have been feeling, but I was overwhelmed with emotion when I put on my Skarlette for the first time. And that's when we decided to launch our business. Don’t get me wrong, it’s liberating not having to wear a bra, but every woman deserves the opportunity to feel sexy and attractive when she wants to. Our Skarlette lingerie is achieving this. Connect with Heather: Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheSkarlette Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/theskarlette/ Thank you for allowing us to share your story, Heather! SBC adores you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events Read On Tripple Negative Breast Cancer In Your 20's and 30's

By TJ Hills My breast cancer story began about 15 years ago, at the age of 42. At that time, I was a very busy working mother- a stereotypical, New York City, Type A professional. I had 3 young children, my husband worked nonstop, and I had a financial consulting business where I worked about 40-60 hours a week. I got paid to be rigorous and methodical about data and research. It was a well-developed skill that I never once applied to myself. Ignoring My Health For the 18 months before my diagnosis, my menstrual bleeding was becoming more and more irregular. I was gaining weight, and I was easily becoming tired and sleeping more than I had ever in my life. I saw a few OB/GYNs to try to get some help with the bleeding, but basically, I ignored my health and did not take the time to get to the bottom of my symptoms. In early 2009, I found a lump in my breast. My Diagnosis After a biopsy, the lump turned out to be Stage 3, aggressive estrogen/ progesterone receptor positive cancer, or what oncologists call “garden variety breast cancer,” which refers to an estrogen positive breast cancer which is more than 85% of all breast cancers. I went into a state of shock. In 2009, I was the first person in my extended family, just like more than 80% of all women diagnosed with breast cancer, to have any form of cancer. Why I had cancer was a complete mystery to me and my family. The odds I was given, back in 2009 before some of the individualized testing, like Oncotype was widely in use, was a 30% chance of the cancer coming back within 5 years if I successfully completed surgery, chemo, and radiation. It seemed to me that to leave my children without a mother was a horrible thing to do. I was determined to improve those odds somehow started with using my research skills. Estrogen Gene Testing and Remedies Luckily for me, soon after my diagnosis, I met Dr. Veltmann, an expert in nutrigenomics, which is broadly defined as the relationship between nutrients, diet, and gene expression. The very first thing he asked me was, “Have you had any irregular bleeding?” My story and my cancer were not a mystery to him. On the contrary, he was working with a large group of female military veterans, all of whom had a similar story and a 30% chance of their cancer coming back within 5 years. None of his patients had their cancer come back. That was a success that I wanted to learn more about. He gave me an estrogen gene test which showed damage on every single gene- genes like CYP1A1, CYP1B1, COMT, MnSOD, GSTP, and others. My body does not get rid of excess estrogen properly. That means it may not all exit in your urine or sweat and may recirculate in your body, potentially becoming toxic. It is especially important for women diagnosed with estrogen positive breast cancer to improve their estrogen health and get rid of any excess estrogen. What are excess estrogens? It can be drugs that some of us take for decades. In the beginning, it’s birth control pills, and at the end, it’s hormone replacement pills in a prescription pill or a cream or something you picked up at Whole Foods. Some women may take fertility medications ranging from Clomid, to a full in vitro fertility cycle. And in America, we are surrounded by chemicals that mimic estrogen in our food, our water, our skin care, shampoos, cosmetics, and especially on our lawns. If you have questions about your estrogen health, definitely speak with your oncologist. Dr. Veltman prescribed simple remedies starting with a supplement called Dim-Pro which is essentially concentrated broccoli, Fish Oil, and strong antioxidants like Vitamin C. That’s the regimen that I use to improve how I get rid of excess estrogen. If Only But I kept thinking… IF ONLY I had taken an Estrogen Gene test earlier and learned about my lifelong estrogen health, I might have made different choices about drugs like birth control pills, fertility treatments, and hormone replacement therapy. IF ONLY I had learned about Estrogen Genes earlier, I might have started the remedies to get rid of the excess estrogens and might have prevented my breast cancer or perhaps had an earlier or less aggressive cancer. We still will never know why some of us develop breast cancer in the first place. IF ONLY every woman everywhere could take this test and learn about her lifelong estrogen health as early as possible. Applying My Skills After I finished treatment, I applied my professional skills to my own cancer. I investigated many options, including estrogen metabolism genes and decided to improve how I get rid of excess estrogen, in hopes of improving my cancer odds. I learned a lot about estrogen along the way, including that estrogen exposures are the primary risk factors for breast cancer. I also learned that while I didn’t have any cancer history in my family, I discovered an extensive background of estrogen metabolism dysfunction. Endometriosis, fibroid tumors, ovarian cysts, infertility, polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), or acne so severe it required pharmaceutical intervention. Apart from the PCOS, I had every one of these conditions running rampant through my family. Why I Share My Breast Cancer Story I have been sharing my story for more than 10 years. I tell my story because hindsight is 20/20. I continue to believe that if I had stopped to listen to my body and I had sought help earlier, my garden variety breast cancer might have been a lesser one or maybe even have been prevented entirely. Whether you are someone diagnosed with breast cancer or a family member or friend reading this, I hope my story inspires you to take care of your health above any and all obligations. Don’t ignore an ongoing medical issue and get yourself an estrogen gene test. Some of the testing companies may call it a detoxification or hormone panel. It is important that you choose a company that includes protocols to improve your gene expression that you will review with your healthcare team so you get rid of any excess estrogens as well as possible. Know your lifelong estrogen health, make healthier decisions, and use the simple remedies to improve your estrogen health like dim-pro, fish oil, and vitamin C, but of course always check with your healthcare team before starting any new medications Take the same time, money, and energy that you would spend on your children’s health and spend it on yourself. Thank you for allowing us to share your story, TJ! SBC adores you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Veronica Novy I would have never imagined that one of my biggest accomplishments in life would be living! My lifelong dream was to say I just defended my research and now have a doctorate in education. One day I hope to fulfill that dream! Today, I can actually smile and say that I am so proud of myself, of the courage that I have had to muster up, the multiple surgeries, and the four needles in my breast on the day of my mastectomy. I wanted to scream when the technician told me, and I said to myself, “You’re taking off my breast why do I need more injections.” I survived that day and many more to follow. I cried when I learned about my breast cancer diagnosis; it was Stage II. One doctor informed me that I had cancer even before I was scheduled for a biopsy. She just blurted it out, you have cancer! She didn’t even ask me how I felt, or if anyone was there with me. I rode the bus home alone trying to hold back the tears. My treatment was fragmented. I had four doctors and not one of them was located in the same location. I had chemotherapy and radiation treatment at separate locations. My plastic surgeon, as well as my primary care physician, were all at other places all over Queens County. My claim to this life is not just living but thriving! I learned how to cope when no one was there to hug me. Each week, I prepared a bag for chemo that included my special blanket, my favorite pillow, and my favorite songs on my iPod. As I reflect back on my early prognosis, I want to thank the many nurses and technicians that offered me a hug or got me an Uber home. I learned how to cope in moments of utter sadness. I think the hardest person to share the news with was my mother. She became my rock, my guiding light, and my prayer partner. Sadly, she passed away in February of this year. However, she leaves me with indelible memories of love and the strength to live my best life. My sister Regina has also given me encouragement beyond compare. It was difficult for her at first, but after she saw my tenacity and willingness to fight this diagnosis, she has been my biggest supporter. She is my best friend forever, as well as my telephone buddy when we are separated by miles. Today, I am four and a half years cancer free! I learned how to smile again. There are even days when I try not to let the burden of living with a cancer diagnosis define my life. I joined the Surviving Breast Cancer support group, and I met so many beautiful survivors who helped me. We meet in a virtual chat room every Thursday night, no matter what. I am happy to share the news that I am the recipient of the Susan G. Komen Treatment Assistance Program Award, as well as the Cancercare Financial award. These two awards give financial assistance to patients who are currently in treatment. The grant can be used for transportation, medical expenses, or anything directly related to your treatment. They are given out annually to qualified candidates. I feel truly honored and blessed. I will continue to wake up each morning with a song in my heart and a determination to survive. - For further information, contact 1(972) 866-4233 or TreatmentAssistance@Komen.org . For further information about Cancercare, please call 1(800) 813-HOPE (4673). You can also check out my podcast interview on the Surviving Breast Cancer website.

By June Chapko In my husband’s tears, he couldn’t make my cancer go away. In my husband’s embrace, encircling me with his protection. I saw love when he cleaned up after me on my worst days, held my hand before surgery, and wore a smile in the recovery room. Love was visible as I watched him play fetch with Chai when I had no energy. I saw love when losing my hair became a game of “It’ll come back before you know it,” and him being first to find new growth. I saw love in his patience, waiting for treatments to end. Love was written on his face in lines. I saw them grow last year. Love was drawn in his smile when the words, “cancer-free” were spoken. I saw love in his tears of joy because the cancer had gone away. I saw love in his embrace trying to protect me forevermore. Related Poems You Will Love I Bloom With Grace , by S helley Caruso I Saw Love , by J une Chapko After Cancer Me , by M eagan Miraldi Run , by Sara Kandler Cloudy , by Heather Lockerman I'm Still Me , by Julie Gaughan Spink Truth at the time of a breast cancer Dx by William Laferriere

By Rod Ritchie This is the first of a monthly column which I hope will educate and inform readers. Over the coming months I’ll tell you how men I know handle diagnosis and treatment, how Stage 4 men struggle with the perpetual treatment, how the stigma of having this disease holds men back, and how early-stagers handle their fears of recurrence. While men make up only one percent (1%) of new cases, we are usually diagnosed with a later stage, and generally have a poorer prognosis. My underlying aim in all this advocacy work is to shine a light on a genderless disease which is burdened with too much pink hoopla by well-meaning charities in fundraising efforts. I’m well connected to the breast cancer community on social media, mainly Facebook and Twitter, and draw strength from the many women and men living with the disease and from those treating us. My Story It took me a few months to convince my GP that I needed a scan for an inflamed left breast, And, this despite having a recorded family history of breast cancer. I noticed the monographer’s eyes widen as she watched the monitor reacting to her ultrasound device. Sure enough, a biopsy a couple of days later confirmed Stage IIIB Inflammatory Breast Cancer. Neo-adjuvant treatment was what my MO jokingly called, “the kitchen sink”. Chemo lasted 18 weeks, and was one day each three weeks. There were three lots of FEC (Fluorouracil, Ellence, and Cytoxan) and three of Docetaxol. The Surgery that followed was extensive, since 2/23 lymph nodes tested positive, all those under my arm were removed along with the breast tissue. Pathology following surgery showed the tumors to be still active, so pCR was not achieved. My surgeon was amused when I asked if there was any reconstruction. While it is possible to rebuild a facsimile of a guy’s breast, she explained, the lack of extra material makes it harder and actually inhibits the surgeon who is concentrating on removing the affected tissue, since cancer often travels further in male breasts. Following surgery, I started 33 radiation treatments, five a week for seven weeks. I have been taking the hormone blocker Tamoxifen for the past eight years. Three years ago, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer and the treatment, much simpler than for breast cancer, consisted of a robotic prostatectomy. I’m currently NED for both. All this happened eight years ago when I was 64. Today, having closed down my internet publishing company, I’m pretty well a full-time advocate for men who find themselves dealing with breast cancer. I’ve been fortunate to have my patient advocacy efforts recognized and in 2018 when I was invited to attend the Project LEAD course in San Diego. The chance to meet up with so many patient advocates was very uplifting, while connecting with medical professionals, was just as important. In 2019 I was awarded a patient advocate scholarship from the Alamo Breast Cancer Foundation to attend SABCS, in San Antonio, the world’s premier breast cancer conference. When I was going through treatment, my MO gave one fine bit of advice that has stood me in great stead. She said, never have any preconceived notions about any aspect of treatment. Only after I had handled the worst of it, did I understand her point. Worry and fear lie within us, and are naturally ever-present. Hope, based on logic and science, on the other hand, will keep us all in a better space. --- About Rod Ritchie: Rod Ritchie is a Sydney-born writer, internet publisher, and breast cancer patient activist, living with breast and prostate cancers. Currently he’s NED for both. He’s president of the Male Breast Cancer Global Alliance, has a website at MaleBC.org and you can follow him on Twitter @malefitness His articles for Health Union can be found here: https://advancedbreastcancer.net/author/traveltext

By Vance Stacks My name is Vance Stacks, Jr. and I am a 3x male breast cancer survivor! I am also a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a father, a grandfather, cousin, a friend, and a mentor. I am a native Memphian, and I graduated from Central High School in Memphis, TN. I enjoy speaking about my life experiences, being out in nature, and giving back to my community. The Car Accident That Saved My Life I was involved in a vehicle accident in 2013, flipped my vehicle and from that vehicle accident, my breast cancer journey began. I went to have a chest x-ray done and they noticed a dark spot on my left nipple. My primary care physician sent me to an oncologist for a biopsy. I had no pain. There was no lump, and I had no symptoms. The first doctor conducted a biopsy and it came back negative. Three to four weeks later a knot formed and this time it was big enough for me to touch and fill with my hands. My Primary Physician sent me to another oncologist and that doctor conducted a second biopsy when it came back positive for stage one breast cancer. I was 43 yrs old and advised that a mastectomy was my best route of treatment. So in 2013, I had my first surgery and luckily I didn’t have to go through any chemotherapy or radiation. So I decided on having a single mastectomy. Take 2 After enjoying 6 years of remission and no evidence of disease, in October 2019, I started feeling lethargic at a family reunion. I advised one of my cousins that I believe my cancer had returned because of the way I was feeling. Upon returning to Memphis the first thing I did was set an appointment. West Cancer Center in Memphis TN conducted a biopsy and my breast cancer had returned and the cancer was in stage three. It was very aggressive and had attached itself to my chest bone but did not penetrate or metastasize my bone. I underwent a second Mastectomy in the same breast area and underwent 27 rounds of Chemotherapy. The Third Time's a Charm After chemo, I was enjoying being cancer-free again!! I went for my six-month check-up in 2020 and I thought it would be just a routine check-up. It was not even close to a regular checkup. The oncologist conducted a biopsy and advised me that it appears my cancer had returned. After a week of waiting on the results which felt like a year to me. I underwent a third Mastectomy and underwent 32 rounds of radiation. April 29, 2021, I rang the bell for the third time being cancer-free. Breast Cancer Side Effect and Hormonal Therapy I went through the loss of hair, and my body changed drastically. I love 150 pounds and even lost my toenails and fingernails. But I am so grateful to my support team. It makes a huge difference when you have a great support team. I am currently taking tamoxifen for the next five years. I do experience some side effects which are really bad hot flashes and some insomnia. I was assigned a pain doctor to manage my pain after being diagnosed in January 2022 with what’s called Mastectomy Pain Syndrome. Today, I am so grateful to say that I am cancer-free and feeling well! If it was not for my three F’s I would not have made it. FAITH, FAMILY, AND FRIENDS! I am so grateful to Methodist and my team of caregivers who helped me through these scary and challenging experiences. Many members of my care team went above and beyond to give me the best care possible and to make me feel as though they truly cared. I am so grateful because they helped me be here today. Timothy Garrett (like a son), Jay Cole ( Best Friend), Roselynn Brown ( Bestfriend and B/C survivor), and Mrs. Madelyn Barksdale (Breast Cancer Survivor ) would come over on days that I could not cook or wash. My team of caregivers assisted me at appointments, cleaning my house, and just doing general things that I could not. I do not want to forget the staff at Methodist Hospital oncology department AND West Cancer Center Memphis east location. Their compassion and commitment to their patients are above compare. As a three-time male breast cancer survivor, I am also so grateful to share my story with you all today and to share my message – PINK AIN’T WHATCHA THINK! – to make sure that all of you know that men are also at risk for this disease. In fact, I founded a non-profit by the name “Pink Ain’t Whatcha Think!” that is working to give support and hope to patients undergoing cancer treatment that I am so proud of and excited to grow. I hope by sharing my story more people know now that breast cancer is a disease that can impact ANY of us. Thank you for allowing me to share my story. I am so very thankful… and remember, Pink Ain't Whatcha Think! Pink Ain’t Whatcha Think is bringing awareness that men have Breast Too. That men can get Breast Cancer. We are helping all cancer patients' families of loved ones that transition without funeral expenses. We offer free cremation to those families that can’t afford a proper service for their loved ones. In addition, we also offer to send terminally ill cancer patients on their ultimate wish before transition. Facebook @ Pink Ain’t Whatcha Think, Instagram @ Pink Ain’t Whatcha Think

By Elise Anna Harris Before I start, you need to know something about me: I am usually a very private person, and I really don’t want people knowing my business. I didn’t want to reveal that I had breast cancer because of the unease of what people would say or think if they knew. I realize that I don’t have to share anything if I don’t want to, but after some thought, I can’t be silent anymore! I have to tell someone about it; I have to tell you! A Breast Cancer Diagnosis I remember it like it was yesterday. It was Friday, May 22, 2002; I was 36 when I received a message that would rock my world. I thought I was going to die. I remembered how cancer had stripped my mother down to bones. The doctor came into the room and told me that I had developed Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, also known as breast cancer. I was doing a self breast examination when I felt a lump. I set up an appointment and went to the doctor. I went there with Auntie Shirley. When he gave me that message, it felt like everything just stopped. I don’t remember hearing anything he said after that; I just burst into tears. When I got that message, I just let out a scream, and the tears just started rolling out. I thought I was going to die. It was the worst news that any woman could receive. My mother always taught my sister and me to learn our bodies. I remember her showing us the lump, and it was the size of a grapefruit. You see, my mother had breast cancer twice, and she died at the age of 47. I also learned that my family has a history of breast cancer. I knew that my grandmother died of breast cancer at the age of 44; I’m not sure how my great grandmother died. I am the 3rd generation named Elise, a survivor of breast cancer. I am so glad that there have been breakthroughs over the years. My mother took chemotherapy without anti-nausea pills, and I remember her saying that after a round of treatment that it was like she had sucked on a penny. When she took her treatments, she was usually sick for a few days. Thanks to the advancements, I was able to work through treatment. They now give you medicine for anti-nausea. My mother didn’t have this. Although treatment has come a long way, there are some things that still need to be improved. One of the side effects from chemotherapy is hair loss. During the 1st round, I lost my hair and after the second round, even more came out. I remember falling into a bout of depression because it felt like I was losing my femininity. I persevered. I made it through 6 rounds of chemotherapy. A Breast Cancer Recurrence Five years later, in May 2007, I was diagnosed with breast cancer again at age 41. I was devastated because I just beat it. It felt like I was being sucked back down into a black hole. I couldn’t help but ask, why do I have to go through this again? Why me? Why does this keep happening to me? The third time was January 2018, age 52. I felt another lump in my breast. So, just like before, I made an appointment with the oncologist. I went into the office with Auntie Shirley. The tech explained that the area of blackness was cancer. Auntie Shirley hugged me, and I just bawled like a baby. After crying, I went through treatment again. After the 2nd round of chemo, I found myself totally exhausted, not wanting to do anything. Round 3, 4, 5, finally, six rounds of chemo completed. I found myself lying in bed. My sister came into the room telling me I needed to eat. I could not eat; I was completely out of it. She slapped me on my face (tough love) and said, “eat”. I began crying again. Finally, I did eat. I am blessed to say I have endured 12 rounds of chemotherapy and 33 rounds of radiation. Breast Cancer Support As a three-time survivor, I want everyone to know that support is essential. I received support from two places. Those places are my natural family and church family- two sisters stand out. The first sister was Julie Weem. Our families grew up together, so because of that, it was easier for us to connect. She was the reason why I gave my testimony in October 2010. As a survivor, I can assure you that every day is a day for awareness. The Lord also had different plans for Julie Weems; she died of breast cancer. That was a sad day for me because she was married and had kids. The next sister I connected with was Winona Hae Jones. In September 2019, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. We would exchange phone numbers and would talk weekly. I began to share my experiences with chemo and radiation. I told her I had cancer three times. She said, “What! You are my “Shero!” (female version of a hero). She also called me an “Encyclopedia.” She said, “You know a lot.” I told her I would do research and would find a lot of information. There was a strong, supportive bond I had with her, just like I did with the other breast cancer patient, Julie. I told her it was like the Lord wanted me to share the information. One year later, the Lord had other plans for Winona Hae Jones. She died in December 2019. That was a sad day for me. I wanted to share my experience as a survivor, so it will encourage women to become familiar with their bodies, know the family history, and to get the yearly mammogram. Take action!

By Ann Fonfa My Story I was diagnosed with lobular breast cancer in January 1993 and was not told it was multi-focal. Our breasts have lobes and ducts, thus the delineation. At that time, I was suffering from extreme Multiple Chemical Sensitivity, a still not recognized illness. I avoided chemotherapy, hormonal, and radiation treatments using surgery and natural strategies to survive. I was told I was stage IV in 1997, due to a series of tiny tumors on the chest wall, so I then added personalized Chinese herbal prescriptions to a complex complementary protocol. I might have taken hormonal therapy such as Tamoxifen or an Aromatase Inhibitor if there had been a test to see if I was among the small percentage of those who would benefit. Nowadays, testing can be done to see if a person will benefit from chemotherapy or hormonal treatment. This is a great advance. I didn’t use the natural, potential replacement dietary supplements Indole-3-carbinol or DIIM. Both have been studied, especially by a doctor at Weill Medical Center in NYC. See the Library of Medicine online pubmed.gov for studies and more information. My Advocacy In 1999, I founded Annie Appleseed Project, an all-volunteer cancer nonprofit to share evidence-based information on complementary therapies (Integrative Oncology). As a breast cancer advocate, I have spoken at many conferences and events, have been interviewed, and have presented posters. My work continues to educate and inform the community of people with cancer as well as all in oncology. The Annie Appleseed Project has presented substantial information on males with breast cancer and on the LGBT community. The website had an International section, as well. Unfortunately in 2012 and again in 2015, the site was cut in size and content. We are still working to update it, but meanwhile we use our Facebook page (not my personal page) to offer current studies and articles, information on events, etc. As part of my advocacy work and engagement in the breast cancer community, I serve on the board of directors for the National Breast Cancer Coalition and have been an active grant reviewer for journals and the Dept. of Defense, for which I recruit other cancer survivors. (Get in touch if you have never reviewed for DOD, but would like to know more about this annual event.) Please contact me directly, as I recommend breast cancer survivors as Consumer reviewers each year. There is a mentoring and training program - our views and opinions as we represent our community, are what is welcome at DOD. I am very proud of my work, but I don’t take personal credit for the interest around Integrative oncology. I was the charter Advocate member of the Society for Integrative Oncology. And first advocate member of MASCC (Multi-National Assoc. for Supportive Care in Cancer). It’s time is NOW. Today, many in oncology acknowledge the need and value for exercise, nutritional changes, handling stress, and more. The most important thing about complementary therapies, is that they NEED to be done ALONG with conventional, at the same time in order to best benefit. Luckily, they may work afterwards also. ASCO (American Society for Clinical Oncology) has now recognized and acknowledged that conventional medicine does harm us even as it may help. They are not ready to recommend that ALL patients receive this care, nor that insurance cover it. That will come as I continue to hope and advocate for these points. What’s On The Horizon Annie Appleseed Project hopes to host our 15th educational conference February 23-25, 2023 in West Palm Beach, FL. We offer scholarships for people with advanced cancers (any/ all types) and also to unpaid Advocates. All meals except Friday night dinner are included in the $299 cost (not increased in years). Speakers come from all over the US and abroad, representing a variety of medical approaches and professions. It’s a great place to meet like-minded others; everyone eats lunch together including the speakers! There’s free yoga classes both mornings - we start Thursday afternoon and run through Saturday late afternoon. There’s a FREE shuttle from the airport to the conference hotel and reduced rate rooms are available that can sleep 2-4 people. All food served is organic and much is locally grown. Our giveaway bags introduce the participants to healthy and interesting products. I hope to get back to traveling soon so that I can be an in-the-room Advocate and ask the penetrating and important questions I am known for. -- Connect with Ann on Instagram: @annieappleseedpr and on Twitter: @annieappleseed

By Rod Ritchie October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month (BCAM) and that’s when breast cancer charities go all out to raise funds. Naturally, these groups are particularly keen to raise both funds and “awareness.” Obviously, money raised for research is a good thing, even if these projects are often duplicated. However, the old adage of having to spend a buck to make a buck is true, and because of the plethora of charities, more often than not, half or more of the funds raised are spent on marketing and publicity. This means that, so often, our donations are only a half as effective as they should be. And my Stage IV sisters all tell me that October for them is often a crass and derogatory exercise. As well, many companies take advantage of the month to “pinkwash” products and only offer a small part of the profits as a donation to a breast cancer charity. Who needs a pink excavator? Awareness? Yes please, make us all aware about breast cancer. It’s important for women to check their breasts regularly, and get regular mammograms to ensure early detection. But what about men? After all, the disease is genderless. Where are men in the promotions and pink hoopla which have come to dominate this month? From the advertising blurbs, to the pretty crude publicity about what is a very serious disease, the message about gender inclusivity is being lost. Studies show that less than 50 percent of the general population know that breast cancer is a genderless disease. It's Time for Change The time is right to recognize that the 2,700 men diagnosed in the United States annually deserve a fairer go. To this end, we’ve created a Manifesto , a pathway for change in the way breast cancer institutions and charities might take on board protocols for inclusion. The aim is to build and promote a consistent profile and narrative within all cancer groups for male breast cancer that enables a more balanced perspective and supports improved health outcomes. The Manifesto asks breast cancer groups to: Provide inclusive imagery and de-gendered language across all mediums to acknowledge the disease exists in men as well as women. Build a sense of importance and belonging within cancer support groups for male breast cancer patients and their caregivers. Provide easy access to relevant up-to-date information for men that is prominently displayed and accessible by all groups. Institute breast cancer research and development funding to the equivalent of one percent of the total amounts raised. Set aside a day in October to publicize male breast cancer. Institute public breast screening programs for all BRCA1 and BRCA2 males. As a man with breast cancer, I’ve often been asked to talk about how men find out they have this disease, and what on earth they need to know to find out if they are at risk. At each event, I have had women and men come up to me and say, I never knew men could get breast cancer. This got me thinking why, after decades of awareness-raising for women’s breast cancer, have we not put the message out there better that men can get this disease too? About Rod Ritchie Rod Ritchie is a Sydney-born writer, internet publisher, and breast cancer patient activist, living with breast and prostate cancers. Currently he’s NED for both. He’s President, Board of Directors, Male Breast Cancer Global Alliance, has a website at MaleBC.org and you can follow him on Twitter @malefitness His articles for Health Union can be found here: https://advancedbreastcancer.net/author/traveltext

By Alison Moen I was diagnosed with breast cancer in July 2022. I had my annual mammogram on June 9th, 2022 and exactly one week later on June 12th, a Friday, I received a letter from the hospital letting me know there was an abnormality on my mammogram. “Great!” was my first initial response. Slightly irritated because this happens almost every year thanks to having " dense breast tissue ." What is even more frustrating is that I learned of this through a standard letter from the hospital and not from my doctor. About three days later I received a call from my doctor explaining what they found, using words I had never heard before like spiculated edges. So here we go...panic, fear, sadness, and anger - just a few of the emotions that were running through my mind. A few days later came the ultrasound, then the MRI, then the biopsy. Then the waiting. Whoever thought it was a good idea to make a woman wait seven days for the results of a simple biopsy should be fired. So after a week of waiting and waiting, and then for almost two hours at the surgeon's office, he finally comes in. His exact words, "We have some things to talk about." In all honesty, I wasn't surprised; I had already convinced myself it was breast cancer because well… WHY NOT? This isn't my first cancer rodeo. I was diagnosed with T-cell lymphoma about 11 years ago. Been in remission for several years after tumor removal, radiation, and a bone marrow biopsy. But it is my first breast cancer rodeo and quite honestly, I was not interested. I didn't want the label. I didn't want my friends to treat me any differently. Because it’s cancer. The first response is always to feel sorry for someone. I don’t want that! FIGHT alongside me and wipe my tears when I need it! I didn't want to die. I am not a grandmother yet. My boys haven't settled down yet, my youngest is still in college, and what about my husband?? We were being robbed of our future. To say I was upset would be an understatement. I was digging my grave and planning my funeral. Until I listened to my surgeon who honestly is a blessing from above. I can only hope that all women have a surgeon like this. He is AMAZING. Long story short, I was diagnosed with stage 1B. My tumor measured at 1.2cm. I had a lumpectomy and he removed two lymph nodes , one of which had cancer in it. I am two treatments away from finishing radiation . I was blessed to not have to have chemotherapy. I will be taking Arimidex, an aromatase inhibitor (AI) since my tumor characteristics were hormone driven , for five years and praying hard we never have to go through this again. I long for the person I was prior to my diagnosis . I miss the carefree feeling. The feeling of finally being empty nesters. Cancer took more than just some tissue from me. I am working my way back, and as my skin begins to heal, I hope to forget some of this time. Like the nuclear test- that was fun. The terrible itchy rash from radiation and the scars. I am working to overcome the fear and embrace the new normal. I know I am blessed because in the grand scheme of things, my case wasn't as bad as it could have been. I want to give back. I want to be there for women who don't have anyone to lean on. I realize my healing needs to start from the inside and being a part of this community will help me do that. Thank you for listening. Thank you for letting me share my story. Thank you for sharing your story, Alison. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Nichole Maiorana This past January I turned 50. I didn’t have a big celebration because everyone was still dealing with Covid, and I didn’t want to take any chances. The years 2020 and 2021 had been challenging enough. My boyfriend had Covid in 2020 and was still dealing with long Covid effects. I became an empty nester when my son went away to college in August of 2021. I had felt positive about 2022. I was definitely wrong. In April of 2022, I scheduled my routine mammogram. I hadn’t had one since pre-Covid and my friend urged me to get one because her mother and aunt had breast cancer. I didn’t have a family history because my mother never felt it necessary. Her mother didn’t have breast cancer and she never went for mammograms. In May 2022, I was told I needed an ultrasound. June was when everything in my life would take a nosedive. My mother would be diagnosed with uterine cancer after a trip to the ER. She had a hysterectomy in August and she is starting chemo soon. My breast also had a biopsy and at 12 noon on July 7, I received the phone call no one wanted to get. I had STAGE 1 BREAST CANCER. I saw the breast surgeon the following day. I was raw. I didn’t know what to think. She laid out my options, lumpectomy or mastectomy. I would need an MRI and genetic testing. There was so much information and I didn’t know what to do. Why me? After a negative BRCA test, I decided on a lumpectomy . It was scheduled for August 2 at St. Peter’s Medical Center. The doctor said I would probably need a few radiation sessions but she didn’t think I would need chemotherapy. The doctor felt positive I would make a full recovery. The lumpectomy was a success and the margins were clear . I was triple positive which means my tumor characteristics were HER2 positive, estrogen positive and progesterone positive, neoplastic . I would need chemo and Herceptin. I would need 12 weeks of chemo, 12 months of Herceptin, and 6 weeks of radiation and Tamoxifen. There isn’t much I could find about HER2 positive . My doctor told me only 20% of patients are HER2 positive. Years ago, this would have been horrible news for me, but the Herceptin would make all the difference. I’m still going through chemotherapy. I have 2 chemo treatments left. It’s been a long 10 weeks. It’s been a long year. Sometimes I have felt like giving up , but then I think about my son and my parents and I keep fighting through the side effects. Some days I do sit and cry from the pain in my legs. Some days the diarrhea is so bad I can’t believe this is happening to me. How did this happen? Was it because I’m overweight? Was it because I like to drink wine? Was it something else I did? I guess I will never understand. I just have to keep pushing, keep going. I will see my son graduate college. I will dance with him at his wedding. I am going to beat breast cancer, it is not going to beat me. Thank you for sharing your story, Nichole. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

November 24, 1980 – December 31, 2024 https://www.dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/cleveland-oh/melissa-niskala-12151278 Memories from Our SBC Family: Elisa:   Melissa was an admirable human being, she was a teacher who left her job to heal after her breast cancer diagnosis, she participated in most of our programs, she was part of our Expressive Arts class, we shared some beautiful moments being artsy, she shared about her journey and we shared her process from our screens. I wish we had more time to meet in person. She touched my soul with hers, and I hold her memory, her resilience, her bravery in my heart. Gloria: Our beloved SBC Sis-star, Melissa; we hold you in our individual and collective heart as you journey back to Source on angel wings!!! From the very first day of your attending Encourage & Empower Cohort 5, your essence of discovery, exploration and new learning in awe and curiosity struck me as the gift that you came to earth to share with all of us as we journeyed together. Whether that journeying was for a short couple years or a lifetime - it sure impressed upon all our hearts and minds the opportunity of always being open to a new POV (Point of View). These combined with equanimity were truly your gifts that you shared with me and I would daresay all your SBC sis-stars that you met at the various programs you attended. I thoroughly enjoyed your presence in our weekly Meditation and our conversations around therapeutic touch and other energy modalities of healing!!! May your soul soar as you reconnect to the collective One Source that we all originated from and I look forward to seeing you when next our souls connect again!!! For all aching hearts - we hold peace in our loving active compassionate hearts individually and collectively for each of you in your own divine timing!!! Namaste - May Peace Be With You Gloria Marie:   Melissa and I met in one of the SBC programs. We shared with each other our appreciation of Reiki energy. Melissa in her sweet kindness and generous spirit shared information of two on-line distance Reiki programs. We would see each other upon occasion in these zoom platform programs. I continue to remember and honor Melissa's caring spirit each time I attend and benefit from her shared Reiki programs.  Maria:   Melissa I do not know where to begin, I was very shaken by the news of your passing. But I have comfort in knowing that you now are in a place where nothing hurts and you’re at peace. I want to say that I admire you for fighting so hard. I will always remember you for your bright smile and for showing up even when you weren’t up for it. You were an extremely extraordinary person. When I read your obituary it made me kind of sad we never got to discuss your life story because wow I would have loved to hear about your museum days and your travels abroad!  I hope that our souls connect again one day under an extraordinary circumstance and not because of “this.” May you continue to feel the love of your friends and relatives who have to continue without you for a little while. To Missy’s family and friends I offer my sincere condolences sending you all love and light as you navigate this life without your loved one.  Peace out Melissa catch you on the flippity flip Your SBC friend  Maria Tawnya: Melissa— When we began SBC’s E&E group and you, Kris, and I quickly learned that we were the three triple negative girls, I instantly appreciated your candor, realness, and bravery. I am so very sorry that your fight didn’t bring you the outcomes you so desperately wanted in this life. My heart aches for you and your loved ones. May you rest in peace.  Tawnya Kristin:   The big thing I remember about her is the multi-colored Christmas lights she had up in her home during the Encourage & Empower calls. It was well past Christmas but she said she left them up because she needed the light. And apparently I did too because it really was a joy to see them, such a small thing but it brightened my day. And that’s how I will always remember her- surrounded by those joyful multi-colored Christmas lights.  SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Becki Berkeley As I look back, it seems like a blur in so many ways. In 2020, there were exciting moments, there were new moments, and there were moments that I’d love to forget. In 2020, the pandemic had hit, and it impacted so many people across the globe. For my husband, Jeremy, and I, 2020 marked a new house that was closer to his parents. Our first baby, Carson, now had his grandparents nearby. We had met the perfect neighbors, who became friends and then family. It was like the universe had aligned perfectly for us and was blessing us with so many wonderful things, but by the end of the year that would change. Diagnosis In October 2020, things changed dramatically, leaving me in a fog of disbelief. In early October, my baby sister Audrey got married, and I hosted all the bridesmaids for brunch and getting ready at my house. I remember being in front of my mirror, changing into my dress, and thinking to myself, “Hmmm, that doesn’t look right. That’s new. Oh, it’s probably nothing.” At 38 years old, I was thinking this about a new indentation on the bottom part of my right breast. Just as quickly as it entered my mind that it could be something bad, it was removed from my thoughts. I mean, it was my sister’s day, and there was no room for negativity, doubt, or myself. As the month pressed on, I continued to see this thing, this doubter, this uncertainty in the mirror. I finally decided it was time to ease my mind and go to the doctor so they could tell me I had nothing to worry about. So, at the end of October, I told my Jeremy, “I’m going to make an appointment to see Dr. Kistler (my OBGYN) to make sure there is nothing wrong with my breast.” On October 27, 2020, my nurse practitioner told me she didn’t think there was anything to worry about (thank goodness!), but that she was going to order a mammogram just to make sure (oh, well okay). Later that week, I had my first ever mammogram and breast ultrasound. At the end of the ultrasound, I was asked to wait in a separate room to meet with the radiology doctor. The doctor came in, sat down, and said, “I have reviewed your ultrasound, and I have some concerns. The scans are very suspicious to me. I want you to have a biopsy done.” I sat there in disbelief. What? No, this isn’t happening, I told myself. I cried on the drive home, even though there was still a chance that it was nothing. On November 2, 2020, I went back for the needle biopsy where they took breast tissue and lymph node tissue for testing. I waited. I called the doctor on November 4 with no results. I called the doctor on November 5, and still no results. I called on November 6 and finally talked to Dr. Kistler’s nurse. She said that they hadn’t received anything and that they would call me back. I did not want to go into the weekend waiting and thinking and driving myself nuts with all the possibilities of what it could be and how bad it could be. Finally, a little after lunchtime on November 6, I got a call from the doctor’s office. I was wrapping up a meeting at work, and I rushed to get off the call. I answered the phone with my heart pounding, and I remember it being Dr. Kistler and not the nurse or nurse practitioner. It was the doctor. I said, “I am guessing this is not good news since you are calling me and not the nurse.” She responded, “No, it isn’t good news; you have breast cancer.” She was so surprised and said she was trying to get up-to-speed as she didn’t even know I had had the biopsy. She said she was going to refer me to a specialist for further review of the results, and she was unable to tell me the stage of the cancer or much more around the specifics. I hung up the phone and didn’t know how to process what I had just heard. I was back to the worst-case scenario. I was back to thinking: I am leaving my baby and husband and I feel like life is just getting started in so many ways. I can’t leave them behind! As soon as I composed myself, I headed downstairs to tell Jeremy (we were both working from home during that time, due to COVID). He was outside mowing the backyard, I believe. I said, “It’s cancer.” He didn’t know what to say, and just hugged me. I went back upstairs to go back to work, but I just couldn’t concentrate. I called my boss, Holly, and I just went into freak out mode. She was like, “What’s wrong?” Bawling, I replied, “I have breast cancer!” She told me to slow down, asked some questions, and got me to a calm state. She told me to take the rest of the day off to relax, gather my thoughts, and try not to get ahead of myself. My next call was the one I dreaded the most. I called my sister, Deana. Deana and I are 10 months apart to the day, and we have always been close. I was her maid of honor and she was my matron of honor. We did everything together and told each other everything. This was going to be a difficult conversation. I remember she was at her beach house for a long weekend with our friend, Michelle. She picked up the phone and we started chatting, and I said I have to tell you something. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, the phone was silent for a few seconds, and she said, “This sucks. This isn’t fair.” I could picture her on the other end of the phone in tears, crushed, which crushed me even more. I knew this was even harder for her because our good friend, Madlen, had been diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer just months prior, while Madlen was pregnant. Before hanging up, Deana asked me, “What can I do?,” and that is where the Pink Squad was born (more to come on that!). A couple of weeks later, Jeremy and I met with my surgical oncologist, Dr. Deberry. We were prepared for the worst, but the results were rather promising. I found out I had stage 2 breast cancer that was estrogen positive. Additionally, they found lymph nodes that were positive for cancer, but the cancer had not metastasized to other parts of my body. The tumor was very large, but it was growing at less than 15%, which is a slow growth according to what we were told. I was also negative for the BRCA gene mutation , which was great since I have three sisters and two brothers, and this was good news for our hereditary cancer risk. Dr. Deberry told me the next steps were to meet with my medical oncologist, Dr. Lang, and to get my chemo port installed . Dr. Lang would explain my treatment plan and answer any and all questions I had. Since you, the reader, do not know me, I should say that my story with cancer does not start here. When I was 10 months old, my left eye was removed due to having a cancer called retinoblastoma. So one could ask why I wasn’t holding a self-pity party, but that simply is not in my makeup. I did not have time to think, “Why me?” I could only think that it was time for me to fight for my life. I had to fight not only for myself, but for my family. I was not going to let this beat me. I had too much to live for. That is all I could tell myself. During my meeting with Dr. Lang, she explained that I would go through eight rounds of chemo , which would happen every other week. At the end of chemo, I would be scheduled for a single or double mastectomy based on my preferences and conversations with my plastic surgeon . Dr. Lang also stated we would want to look at having my ovaries removed within the year after chemo to prevent cancer from spreading to my ovaries, since my cancer was estrogen driven . She told me I would lose my hair with chemo, and that moment is when I broke down in tears. To this day, I am not exactly sure why. I knew my hair would grow back and that it was only temporary, but the tears definitely started flowing. Maybe everything together just hit me and at that moment, everything just seemed so real. I also remember Dr. Lang told me the cancer I had was curable and that I should beat this. It was encouraging news, but I also knew I wanted to be realistic and that maybe treatment wouldn’t work. The Pink Squad Deana created a support group for me called the Pink Squad. After asking me how she could help, I told her that if she could be my middle man it would be very helpful. I hated putting that burden on her, but I knew so many people would want to help , and I figured I wouldn’t have the energy to respond. So, she created this support group full of family and friends and named it the Pink Squad. I often called them my behind-the-scenes angels . My friends and family would sign up to bring meals or deliver food, they would send me gifts ahead of chemo treatments, they would send me inspirational videos, and so much more. It was incredible and turned out to be so much more than I ever asked for or thought it would be. COVID made it difficult to be around people, so I didn’t really get to see many of the people who were helping me, but I knew they were there. On my way to my first chemo treatment, I got a video collage from some of my supporters ! Wow, it was just incredible. They really helped me focus for my first treatment. I will be forever grateful for the love, energy, and time that people spend on me. I also received weekly letters from my aunt Lacey, which always put a smile on my face. Chemotherapy My first chemo treatment was on December 23, 2020. I went to the Start Center for Cancer Care in San Antonio, Texas for all of my cancer-related appointments and treatments. I didn’t really know what to expect, and I didn’t know how to prepare, so I sat there reading and watching movies as my body was pumped full of the drugs that were going to cure me. My mother-in-law, Pam, dropped me off for a lot of my appointments, and Jeremy picked me up for most of them. After my first treatment, I felt fine until the evening, and then I felt pretty tired. Over the next four days I had extreme stomach pain, but other than that I felt pretty okay. As treatments continued (I had Adriamycin and Cytoxan every 2 weeks for 4 cycles, and after that I had Taxol every 2 weeks for 4 cycles. I had a port installed where the medications were administered. I was also given Neulasta after every treatment, which was placed on my arm where it pricked the skin and delivered the medicine to stimulate the growth of healthy white blood cells in the bone marrow.), I would notice that it was the four to six days after treatment when I would feel the worst. I would often feel dizzy, and it was hard to concentrate. Concentrate on what, you may ask. Concentrate on work, that is. Yes, I continued to work full-time throughout my treatment. (Even though cancer changed my life, I didn't want to get down about it. So, I tried to keep my routines essentially the same to help with that. So, continuing to work really did help me find and keep the normalcy in my life. And, it helped me become a stronger person. I believe that if I made it through that, I can make it through anything.) I would take every other Tuesday off for treatment and return to work the following day. I never wavered. It was tough, but Jeremy, Carson, and my Pink Squad pushed me through. By early January, I had lost most of my hair, and I realized it was time to let it go. I made an appointment at a salon that shaved people’s heads for free and gave you a wig for free if you had cancer. The weather was cold and rainy, so Jeremy stayed home with Carson, which I insisted on. I thought it may be easier to do it on my own anyway. I remember walking up to the salon. It was brutally cold, and as I was walking up, I noticed someone standing there that I knew. It was my dad. He had driven over an hour to come help me through the experience; he knew it was going to be a difficult one. As we walked inside, I was handed a rose. The salon employee said that it was from my friend, Kenya. Let’s just say that at that moment all the emotions were running through me. I sat in the chair and took off my head wrap. This was the first time my dad saw me like this, and he tried to put me in good spirits. I think he noticed I was tearing up, so he steered me in another direction so I wouldn’t cry. At the end, the hair stylist asked what wig I wanted. I ended up getting one and later throwing it away. That just wasn’t me, and I realized I didn’t want one. I was going to rock the bald look. My dad and I got a picture afterwards. I’ll never forget that day. From then on, I would attend virtual meetings in a beanie, but my direct manager was the only person at work who knew what was going on. After a period, some would ask, and I would tell them, but I didn’t want to be treated differently, and no one ever did treat me differently. April 6, 2021 was my last chemo treatment, and I rang the hell out of that bell ! I definitely got emotional, but I saw this as a huge step in kicking cancer to the curb. It was on to the next treatment step. Surgery The next step was to have a mastectomy to remove the tumor. I decided to have a double mastectomy. Both my surgical oncologist and plastic surgeon said there was only a 15% chance that the cancer would go to the other breast, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance. Since this was my second time having cancer in my lifetime, and I was still young, I wasn’t about to take the risk, even if it was a small one. The surgery was set to take place on May 18, 2021. Dr. Deberry would remove the breast tissue, including the tumor, and also locate and remove a portion of the lymph nodes. To locate the lymph nodes a little easier, she would use a blue dye called isosulfan blue dye. After this, my plastic surgeon, Dr. Chrysopoulo, would place expanders under the skin in my chest area that would be in place until breast reconstruction took place at a later time. On May 17, 2021 I had dinner with Jeremy, Deana, and my aunt Lacey. I can remember feeling uneasy about the surgery . I had had many surgeries in my lifetime, but I had never felt nervous like this. I can remember thinking and saying, “What if this is the last time I see Carson?” Jeremy lost it and had to leave the table. He was just as nervous as I was. The next morning, we made our way to the hospital. As I was being rolled away to surgery, I remember Jeremy being so scared, and I grabbed his hand and said it’s going to be okay. The next thing I remember is waking up in the ICU. The surgery had gone terribly wrong, and I almost died. Unfortunately, we found out the hard way that I was deathly allergic to the isosulfan blue dye that was used to locate the lymph nodes. I went into anaphylactic shock and ended up coding off and on for 12 minutes before they were able to stabilize me. I remember waking up with a breathing tube in my throat, knowing something was wrong. I saw Jeremy in the corner of the room, and I tried reaching for him, and that’s when the nurse told me I was in the ICU. Jeremy was a wreck, and he said he had to leave. I wasn’t sure if he had to leave because they were making him or because he didn’t want to see me like that. He later told me it was because he could only be in there for an hour, due to COVID protocol, and it had been close to two hours. I spent almost five days in the hospital before I was released. As a result of these unfortunate events, the mastectomy did not take place and was rescheduled for June 8, 2021, and as you can imagine, I was extremely nervous. This time they did not use the blue dye, and the surgery was a success. Madlen As I mentioned previously, my friend Madlen was also diagnosed with breast cancer in 2020. Madlen and I met when we went to college at Texas State University and worked at the same clothing shop together. Madlen and I remained good friends over the years, and Madlen and Deana became really good friends and were college roommates. Deana was even in Madlen’s wedding. And, my sister Katy introduced Madlen to her husband, James. Madlen was diagnosed while she was pregnant with her second child, a girl. Her baby, Abigail, and Carson ended up being a week apart in age. She was ahead of me in her treatments and was going to Houston, Texas to get treated at MD Anderson. Her cancer was triple negative , which I had learned was more aggressive. In April 2021, I finally got to see Madlen. She was great! Her hair was growing back, and she and her family were planning a Disney trip in June, just a couple of months later. As soon as we saw each other, we hugged. We hugged like we had never hugged before and just cried. We were happy, full of emotion, and just relieved. After saying our goodbyes that day, I told her I was sorry we hadn’t seen each other as much the past few years and I was going to make a better effort to get together more. She said I shouldn’t be upset and that it was part of life and that we would get together more. Two months later, after getting back from Disney, she found out her cancer had spread to her lungs. She was stage 4 now, and I just lost it. After talking with her, she said that they were going to start another type of chemo immediately, and she had to have her lung drained due to a lot of fluid. Deana and I FaceTimed her in early July one weekend, when Madlen was in the hospital at MD Anderson. She was in great spirits. That was the last time I talked to Madlen. Unfortunately the chemo did not work, and they ended up moving her to hospice. From there the disease overtook her quite quickly. I remember reaching out to Madlen’s husband, James, one day, and he said that it wasn’t good and that he was driving back from work (a five-hour drive, I believe) to get back to her. I immediately called Deana and told her that Madlen was declining rapidly. We took off to Victoria, Texas that day to say our goodbyes. By the time we arrived, she was non-responsive. This was August 3, and Madlen passed away on August 8, 2021, just one week before her 40th birthday. There hasn’t been one day since her passing that I haven’t thought about her. I can remember vividly, during one of my radiation appointments when I was already having a hard day, and on my way home, I felt her with me. I felt her saying, “Chin up, Becki. You got this.” Typical Madlen. Radiation and Other Treatments After surgery, I went through 25 radiation treatments, had my ovaries removed, and had a bilateral breast reconstruction. (Side note: If I had it to do over again I would have gone with a tissue reconstruction, which is what my plastic surgeon had recommended. Since the reconstruction, I have had rippling in my right breast (the radiated side), which I was told was a risk.) By February 2022, I had completed all of the major treatments and surgeries. I continue to meet with my doctors on a regular cadence, and I go every six months for bone injections. Since my cancer was estrogen positive, and I had my ovaries removed to prevent future cancer, I am at risk for bone loss. Maybe my journey will never be completely over, but I am thankful and blessed to have overcome everything I was faced with. I couldn’t have made it through without my family, friends, and the Pink Squad , and I am forever grateful for all of the support and love I was provided. What I have learned through all of this is that life is entirely too short. We have this one life to live, and that is what we should be doing with it… LIVING! Let go of the small stuff and really focus on what is important to you. Don’t ever let a day pass you by, because as Aaron Watson says in his song “Bluebonnets,” “We’re only here for a little while, so make the most of every mile.” “Long gone like bluebonnets in the spring We’re only here for a little while It’s beautiful and bittersweet So make the most of every mile So pack light and love heavy Give it all your heart and soul So in the end you won’t regret one thing Life is like bluebonnets in the spring” Thank you for sharing your story, Becki. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Michele Schwartz Hope seems like something everyone tries to hold onto. A feeling of wanting something to work out for the better so badly, but a feeling that is sometimes so undeniably hard to fathom having when you are faced with some of the most unthinkable tragedies that this world has to offer. But sometimes, hope is all we have to get us through. I was 37 years old when my world was flipped upside down. It was almost the end of 2018. At this point, my husband and I had been married for 9 years and I’m a mother of two young children—our two precious boys were 4 years old and just 7 months old. Babies. I was an elementary school teacher on maternity leave at the time, trying to enjoy what was left of my leave. Then, the night of December 9th, my world stopped. My kids were with my husband and I was in my room changing my clothes. My left breast felt really weird. Itchy. Like I wanted to scratch my skin off itchy. It was red and inflamed so I knew something was wrong. And that’s when I started to feel around, and I found a lump . The days that followed were consumed by doctors and scans and imaging and poking and feeling and looking , and by the end of that same week, just five days after I discovered a lump, a biopsy . That was rough. 37 years old, with literally two babies at home, and my life was about to change. All of our lives were about to drastically change. As I’m lying on that table, awake, the doctor trying to make light of the situation as best as he could and the nurse squeezing my hand at any sign of discomfort, one might ask, what do you do at that very moment? You hope . Hope that it’s nothing. You hope that if it is something, that it’s not that bad. You hope that whatever it is, it can be cured. You hope that, at 37 years old with a 7 month old baby and a 4 year old child at home, you’ll be able to see them grow up. There’s nothing left to do but to hope, because if you give up hoping, then that’s when the darkness sets in—and the darkness cannot come in. I have two babies at home. They need me. A few days later, after waiting for what seemed like a lifetime, the results came in. Breast cancer. Invasive ductal carcinoma . Not sure what stage yet, more information to follow. Now it’s game time. Forget about maternity leave, and nevermind that I’m a mom of two young kids with a husband who works long hours. Now, it’s breast surgeons and figuring out the next steps and… hope. Hope now that this cancer is not too advanced. Hope that I can still parent my kids. Hope that I am not going to… die. But keep hoping. Don’t let that darkness in. Over the course of that week, I got more information about my breast cancer. I found out that it was stage 3 , which was advanced, but it’s not stage 4 (silver linings). That it was hormone positive and HER2 negative , which means that it had the potential to respond more effectively to treatments and that chemo was definitely the next course of action. What to do now? Hope. Hope that the chemo kills it all. Hope that I can get through this. Hope that I can handle my hair falling out. Hope that my kids are not affected. Hope that I can still act like a mother and spend time with my baby. Hope that my husband has it in him to handle what is coming. But I could feel the darkness coming. My hope was slipping. The clouds were closing. I was scared, and rightfully so. I went from maternity leave to disability leave in a matter of weeks. Thrown into a world that I never imagined that I’d ever be in, let alone at 37 years old. I had just had a baby. How am I supposed to do this?? I kept searching for answers on how to parent kids while battling breast cancer , but I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I just had to hold onto that hope, as hard as it was to do so at this time. I started chemo on January 16, 2019, just two weeks after my 38th birthday. Some birthday that was. Sixteen weeks of chemotherapy (4 rounds of Arythromyacin and Cytoxin and then 12 rounds of Taxol), followed by a double mastectomy with reconstruction, with expanders. Here’s the hope again . Now we hope that I heal quickly, we hope that the cancer didn’t spread, and we hope that the expanders work. Well, during the reconstruction, it was found that I did have lymph node involvement . And two weeks after my expanders were placed, I ended up with infections . So the expanders came out , I was closed up, and on I went onto 28 rounds of proton radiation. Here’s the hope again…. Please let this be over soon. Hope that my infections heal. Hope that I can lift my arms again soon. Hope that the pain subsides quickly. Hope that the radiation kills whatever cancer is left in me. Hope that I don’t have burns from the radiation. Hope that I have the strength to go on with this torture. But this torture is how I fight to make sure that I’m here for my kids. My kids were my hope, my strength, and how I got out of bed every single day throughout this craziness. I finished radiation in October 2019—10 months of the most intense, grueling kind of treatments that a body can endure. Or try to endure as it breaks your entire being down. I chose to remain flat , as I didn’t want anything else placed inside my body and I wanted to get back to my life and my kids. Those 10 months were rough. Every single possible side effect that could be had throughout, I had, including pretty severe burns on several areas on my chest, the underside of my left arm was pretty charred, and I had a big burn on the left side of my neck that extended down past my collarbone to my chest. I was extremely fatigued and had difficulty moving my left arm because of all of my surgeries before radiation and having to lie in the position with my arm over my head. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, and I literally had to figure out a way to pick myself up and put myself back together. But I had no idea how. I equate it to a strong storm passing through a town. Maybe even a tornado. It comes, it rips everything apart and then leaves. And you are left picking up the pieces, trying to figure out how to clean it up, and how to put what is left back together. And you hope. You hope you have the strength or can somehow find the strength to do it. It might take some time and lots of help from others from your support circle, but all you can do is hope. Hope that you’ll get to the other side of this and that you can one day look at this journey, like it’s so far off in that rear view mirror. So here we are… November 2022. In October, I celebrated 3 years with no evidence of disease. My kids are doing amazing, as my oldest turned 8 in June and my little one turned 4 in April. My husband has been our rock. I do have lots of residual side effects , including brain fog, fatigue, bone pain, neuropathy in my fingers and toes, mobility, or the lack thereof with my arms and chest area, lymphedema in my left arm, and tons of scar tissue in and around my left breast area (even though I’m flat), and the PTSD/ anxiety that I struggle with but have sought out help for. The constant worry that it will come back is here , but for the most part I can say that I’m doing okay! I never went back to teaching. Throughout my journey I became a blogger, documenting every part of my story. I love writing and found that this is my niche… writing, blogging, sharing, helping, advocating, and educating. In November 2019, I was picked to meet Hoda Kotb of NBC’s Today Show on The Dr. Oz Show to talk about the word “hope” and how it helped me throughout my journey. I guess it’s safe to say that all the hoping I did helped because it ensured that I never gave up. Was my hope a constant thing? To be honest, no. Sometimes I lost sight of it, but I always found a way to get it back. Now I just hope that I stay a survivor for as long as I can. Hope. It’s a powerful word. – Note: Pregnancy-associated breast cancer (PABC): breast cancer diagnosed during gestation, lactation, and from 1-5 years postpartum. PABC accounts for 25-30% of all premenopausal women diagnosed with breast cancer. (Source: SABCS presentation by Dr. K.P. Siziopikou, MD, PhD: Updates in the Pathology of Pregnancy Associated Breast Cancer) More information from The National Cancer Institute: https://www.cancer.gov/types/breast/patient/pregnancy-breast-treatment-pdq Thank you for sharing your story, Michele. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events