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With many states beginning to legalize medical marijuana , or cannabis, you may be curious about whether or not it could help with some of the more difficult side effects of breast cancer and breast cancer treatment. Generally, it is used to help mitigate pain, nausea, and anxiety, among other symptoms, and many who use it swear by its efficacy. However, federally, cannabis use for any reason is still considered illegal, and many worry about other potential side effects from longterm marijuana use. Here, we’ve collected a series of articles and scientific reviews examining how and if medical marijuana use can affect your breast cancer journey. As with most therapies, there are both pros and cons to its use. Check out the resources below to learn more. What to Know About Medical Marijuana for Breast Cancer Cannabis use is fairly common in those being treated for breast cancer; it is reported that in 2021, up to 48% of those with a breast cancer diagnosis had tried it between then and 5 years prior. It is commonly used to help with pain, nausea, insomnia, anxiety, or stress, and others find that cannabidiol, an isolated component from marijuana, can also help with these symptoms. There is very preliminary research that marijuana use could potentially even slow the rate of tumor growth, however there is also preliminary research that the active component of cannabis may undermine some chemotherapy agents by making them less effective, so at this stage it is unclear wheter it truly affects breast cancer treatment in any meaningful way. Read more Cannabis Use Before, During and After Breast Cancer Treatment This scientific study published in Cancer examined medical marijuana use in breast cancer patients at all stages of treatment and beyond. Through online surveys, they found that 42% of their study population used cannabis for symptom relief, but only 39% of those people had discussed using cannabis with their medical team beforehand. The researchers concluded that while there were benefits in terms of symptom management, many of those trying cannabis were unaware of potential consequences of the drug, and the quality and dosage of marijuana across participants varied significantly, indicating that there should be more of an effort by medical professionals and patients to be candid about medical marijuana use in cancer treatment. Read More Medical Marijuana and Cancer While this article is generalized to any type of cancer, it contains an overview of the legal status of marijuana in the country (federally illegal, but state regulations vary), the active components in it that may act as a therapy (THC and CBD), and the common side effects and conditions it is used to treat (pain, neuropathy, nausea/vomiting, and appetite/weight loss). However, it also emphasizes the importance of consulting with a medical professional, as each person’s treatment is unique, and cannabis use may have other undesired side effects. Read more Nearly Half of U.S. Breast Cancer Patients Use Pot or CBD, Many Don't Tell Doctors Denise Mann integrates the statistics with personal and professional testimony on whether or not using cannabis with breast cancer is a good idea in this piece written for U.S. News and World Report . While marijuana users like Suzanne Weiner remark that, ‘“Pot helped me tremendously with the anxiety and stress of my diagnosis… I was a mess."’, doctors worry that when patients don’t discuss this with them, it may have unforeseen consequences. Dr. Marisa Weiss, chief medical officer of BreastCancer.org, notes, ‘"Some chemotherapy drugs are broken down by the same part of the liver that cannabis is, and you don't want to overtax the liver… smoking or vaping when receiving radiation or other therapies to your chest could affect lung function.”’ Generally, the consensus is that while marijuana use can be immensely helpful, it’s a good idea to check beforehand with your medical team. Read more Cannabis Consumption Used by Cancer Patients during Immunotherapy There is also a recent study brought to us by one of our readers related to this topic that we felt was important to share. According to the prospective cohort study, conducted with 102 cancer patients taking immunotherapy with or without cannabis use, those that were using cannabis alongside immunotherapy showed significantly reduced time of tumor progression as well as shorter times for overall survival. In analyzing cannabis metabolic byproducts in the blood of the participants, 4 cannabis metabolites were associated with overall survival times. However, the risk of immune related adverse events were decreased in those using medical marijuana. Since the study participants were not required to use a specific dosage, brand, or kind of cannabis and participants were allowed to vary these characteristics throughout the study, it is difficult to say whether or not these factors may affect the findings. Generally speaking, the study serves as a cautionary finding for those who are considering medical marijuana use while also taking immunotherapies. As always, we recommend that you consult with a medical professional before trying substances such as marijuana for your cancer care. Read More We hope that these resources help to clarify the not well discussed relationship between breast cancer treatment and medical marijuana use. If you’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer, have used or considered cannabis, and would like to share your story, we’d love to hear about it! You can see some other breast cancer stories from our readers here . If you’re looking for a support group to join and discuss topics like this more, then look no further: SurvivingBreastCancer.org has a few programs that may be able to help provide a community for that.

"I'm sorry. Your tests came back positive. You have breast cancer .“ Being newly diagnosed with breast cancer is the equivalent of a bomb exploding on your life. Regardless of your doctor's exact words to break the news, a breast cancer diagnosis will irrevocably change your life. Even if you have a family history of breast cancer or a genetic predisposition and understand that your statistical risk is higher, you may still be overwhelmed by the news. But you’re not a statistic. You’re a person with hopes, dreams, and emotions. And a breast cancer diagnosis can send your stress levels into overtime. We understand, first hand. There’s no right or wrong way to feel after receiving a breast cancer diagnosis. You may experience an emotional roller-coaster, with your feelings changing day to day or even hour to hour. Shock, fear, disbelief, numbness, and anger are just a few of the ways a breast cancer diagnosis may make you feel. It may take time to accept that you have cancer and adjust, especially if you don’t feel sick. You might walk around in a daze. Another person might rush to their computer and frantically Google “breast cancer.” Or, someone else might go home and cry for hours. When facing a breast cancer diagnosis, your stress levels can quickly spin out of control. Uncertainties about the future, finances, your family, and the sheer number of questions that occupy your mind can all lead to stress. And while there’s no easy fix, there are ways to help better manage the stress that comes with a breast cancer diagnosis. 5 Ways to Manage Stress After Receiving a Breast Cancer Diagnosis 1. Get the Facts Dealing with the unknown can contribute to stress. It’s essential to gather the information you need to make informed decisions about your health. Get as much basic, helpful information as possible. While you want as much information as possible, trying to grasp volumes of frightening information at once can be mind-boggling. It’s a good idea to write a list of questions and concerns before your appointment with the doctor to make sure you get the information you need. An example of the types of questions you might ask include: What kind of cancer do I have? Where is the cancer? Has it spread? Can my cancer be treated? What is the chance that my cancer can be cured? What other tests or procedures do I need? What are my treatment options? How will the treatment benefit me? What can I expect during treatment? What are the side effects of the treatment? When should I call the doctor? What can I do to prevent my cancer from recurring? How likely are my children or other family members to get cancer Consider having a family member or friend attend appointments with your doctor. If you cannot have someone participate in person due to COVID, ask your doctor if you can call someone and have them on speakerphone or if you can record the discussion. Having a second pair of ears can help you remember what was discussed and serve as your advocate. Surviving Breast Cancer also provides overall educational information to help you better understand symptoms, testing, treatment options , surgery, etc., that you can pursue privately. We also produce podcasts that feature professionals, advocates, and caregivers that share valuable information. Think about how much detail you want to know. Some people want all the facts and be very involved in the decision-making process. Others prefer only learning the basics and feel comfortable leaving details and decisions to their doctors. Everyone is different. Think about which approach works best for you. 2. Find a Support System That Works for You A breast cancer diagnosis can wreak havoc on your mental health. A strong support system can provide immense comfort and help with coping strategies , but what works for one person won’t necessarily work for everyone. Some people may choose to work one-on-one with a therapist or counselor, while others prefer group therapy or online communities. Still, others may choose all three. There is no one-size-fits-all approach. Our global online community not only offers opportunities to connect with others for safe, judgment-free, peer-to-peer support but also ensures that you’re never alone. We also offer healing workshops and mindful movement classes , and you can join any of our groups or get matched with a mentor . 3. Consider Your Finances The financial burden of a breast cancer diagnosis can be incredibly stressful. Even if you’re fortunate enough to have good health insurance, taking time away from work or an extended time away from home during treatment may impact your finances. Of course, we understand that dealing with the financial burden is easier said than done, but you can take steps to minimize the stress. Surviving Breast Cancer offers multiple resources about financial support, including financial management guides, podcasts, and webinars. In addition, many clinics and hospitals keep lists of resources to help you financially during and after your cancer treatment. Talk with your health care team about your options. 4. Do Things That Make You Feel Good Many things outside of medicine can add to your well-being and lower your stress. While you should follow the advice of your medical team, take the time to find and do things that make you feel good. For example, connecting with your creative side can be a great way to help alleviate stress and relax. 5. Maintain a Healthy Lifestyle Getting bad news might make you want to stuff your mouth with Chunky Monkey, raid your chocolate stash, or drown your anxiety with copious amounts of alcohol. Deep down, you know those aren’t the right choices, but you may need to indulge briefly. We get it! However, living a healthy lifestyle is the best choice once diagnosed with breast cancer. While a specific diet or lifestyle doesn’t provide a cure for cancer, there’s sufficient scientific evidence that making healthy diet choices can help. From making subtle changes to embracing a clean-living lifestyle , knowing you’re making better choices can reduce some of the stress. Another aspect of a healthy lifestyle involves physical activity. For some people running helps clear their head and reduce their stress. Low-impact activities like yoga , tai chi, or pilates might better suit others. Remember, exercise produces endorphins in your body, and endorphins help make you feel happy! Always check with your doctor before beginning any exercise routine. You Can Count On Us A breast cancer diagnosis can upend your life. Between dealing with your emotions, searching for information, finding the doctor that’s right for you, and taking care of yourself, it may sometimes feel like your head is spinning. But, we are here for you from day one, with resources, a caring online community, and anything else to give you strength and hope. Whether you make a cash donation , host a fundraiser, or volunteer , your support enables us to make those resources available to as many people as possible. Featured Article: Managing the Emotional Stages of a Breast Cancer Diagnosis Check Out More SBC Resources for Newly Diagnosed Breast Cancer

“Ipsilateral”, as defined by the National Cancer Institute , means “on the same side of the body as another structure.” True to form, ipsilateral breast cancer is when there is a recurrence of cancer in the same breast as a previous occurrence of cancer (i.e. a new tumor in the same breast there was a former tumor in). It stands opposite to contralateral breast cancer , where a new tumor develops in the opposite breast from where there was a previous cancer. While contralateral breast cancer tends to either be an entirely new manifestation of cancer or a metastasis, ipsilateral breast cancer is more nuanced. Usually originating after a lumpecotmy , or a breast-tissue conserving surgical intervention, ipsilateral breast cancer is predominantly a recurrence of the initial cancer. Because breast cancer recurrence is an unwanted outcome after lumpectomy, lots of research has been conducted on when, where, and how often ipsilateral breast cancer recurrence occurs. Here, we’ll walk you through a few studies examining ipsilateral breast cancer that will hopefully provide some insight into the risk factors associated with ipsilateral breast cancer, and prognoses of those who experience it. Criteria and Procedures for Breast Conserving Surger y This literature review looks at when breast conserving surgeries are usually done globally, and when, based on prior research, they should be done in order to limit post-operative complications, including ipsilateral breast cancer recurrence. Overall, the researchers find that mastectomy is done in a large number of cases, however, this may not always be necessary. Absolute deal-breakers for breast conserving surgery were noted in only about 20% of cases; these include locally widespread disease (large tumors), multiple tumors, malignant calcifications, late-stage disease, patients with mutations on BR-CA1 or other high-risk genes, and an irradiated thoracic wall (extensive inflammation). If breast-conserving surgery is done on these types of tumors, then the risk of ipsilateral breast cancer recurrence are higher than average. Classification of ipsilateral breast tumor recurrences after breast conservation therapy can predict patient prognosis and facilitate treatment planning When you have ipsilateral breast cancer, it can arise in one of two ways- as a completely new tumor, or recurrence of a former tumor. This study aimed to categorize ipsilateral breast cancer cases as from one of these two origins using two distinct classification methods. Overall, the researchers found that about 50% of instances were new tumors and 50% were recurrences by both classification systems. They also found trends in contralateral breast cancer rates associated with new tumors, and that systemic metastatic disease was associated with recurrent tumors; the researchers conclude that for new cases of ipsilateral breast cancer, therapeutic interventions may be targeted towards the origin of the new tumor, whether it is new or recurrent, for more optimal outcomes. Ipsilateral breast tumor recurrence in early stage breast cancer patients treated with breast conserving surgery and adjuvant radiation therapy This retrospective cohort study followed a series of people being treated for stage 0-II breast cancer with a lumpectomy and adjuvant radiation, and assessed whether or not they developed ipsilateral breast cancer. They then assessed the new tumor for gene mutation concordance; that is, they checked whether or not the ipsilateral cancer had the same genetic markers as the original removed tumor. In a way, this is similar to the above study, in determining whether or not the new cancer is genetically related in any way to the original cancer. However, unlike the previous study, they found that up to 80% of surveyed cases of ipsilateral breast cancer had the same gene mutations as the original tumor; specifically estrogen and progesterone receptor mutations were significantly associated with ipsilateral breast cancer, while HER2+ cancers were not at a significantly increased risk . Interestingly, they also found that those being treated with endocrine (hormone) therapy for their primary tumor and those with larger tumors (greater than 1.5 cm) were less likely to develop ipsilateral breast cancer. Prognosis After Ipsilateral Breast Tumor Recurrence This study, similar in design to the above study, followed a cohort of women with breast cancer that were treated with lumpectomy, radiation, and adjuvant therapy. Researchers found that 9.7% of their study sample developed ipsilateral breast cancer, with 62% of cases occurring within 5 years after surgery, and 88% of cases occurring within 10 years of surgery. They noted that risk factors included not receiving hormone therapy, specifically Tamoxifen, and being under 50 years old, although none of these risk factors were statistically significant. The researchers did find that estrogen receptor mutations were significantly associated with ipsilateral breast cancer, but found no association with progesterone receptor status, and did not appear to examine HER2 mutation status. So, what can this tell us? Based on current and former research, the consensus on ipsilateral breast cancer seems to be that it is overall a rare outcome following lumpectomy. Some factors that might reduce the chances of developing ipsilateral breast cancer even further include the use of endocrine therapy, such as Tamoxifen. However, undergoing lumpectomy at a younger age or having genetic markers such as estrogen receptor or progesterone receptor mutations might make it more likely that ipsilateral breast cancer occurs up to 10 years in the future. However, that’s not to say that the presence or absence of these factors will make or break your chances of tumor recurrence. Every cancer is unique, for better or worse; the best predictor of long-term outcomes after lumpectomy will be your medical team, and yourself, as an advocate of your own care. However, we hope that these studies have helped you better understand the possible risks and benefits regarding your treatment when considering ipsilateral breast cancer as a potential long-term complication. If you’ve had experience with ipsilateral breast cancer, and want to share your story, we’d love to hear it- let us know here . And if you’re looking for a place to meet with others facing similar difficulties in cancer treatment and recovery as you are, try joining one of our support groups here.

There is a cruel myth about surviving cancer. In this myth, when the medical treatment is successful, the story ends. Having survived cancer, we pick up our lives where they were interrupted and carry-on, with increased gratitude for the simple acts of daily life and the clarity of purpose that only a brush with death affords. The real story does not end in this way. Instead we live in limbo. After cancer, we know that we are on uncertain ground. We have to adjust to the trauma on our bodies from the effects of intense treatments and surgeries. Some symptoms (and treatments) may last for months, years or even the rest of our lives. In addition to the physical trauma, there is: The emotional trauma, The grief, The loss of our bodies as we knew them, The loss of the trust in our world and in some of our loved ones who disappeared or didn’t show up when we needed them. We have unsure footing and anxiety of what’s next. There is no longer order in our universe. When we resume daily life, we are disoriented, confused, fragmented, worried, jumpy and we no longer “fit in”. The people in our lives think we are getting back to normal but nobody realizes that normal is actually gone. The trivia of life drops away and there is no question about what’s important, but those around us have trouble relating to us, and us to them. This is a lonely place to be. All of these things are omitted from the survival myth. #Breastcancer

Wildfire Magazine Interview With Director Paula Mozen, June 2018 Issue A few months after I was first diagnosed with ILC breast cancer, I was speaking with a film friend and she said, “ well you know, YOU should make a film about this, you have the film awards and now you have the breast cancer credentials.” And I said absolutely not. It was a shocking diagnosis for me and I just wanted to get it over with and move on with my life. The last thing I want to do is get involved with a film, a project that I knew would take several years. As a documentary filmmaker, two of my previous documentary films that garnered international attention, were no rewind and 3 girls I know…These documentaries viewed health and societal issues through the lens of diverse female experience. The topics covered included teenagers and HIV and young women coming of age as they are dealing with teen pregnancy, coming out gay to their friends and family and living with AIDS. As I dealt with my breast cancer, the film idea came up again and again and I kept rejecting it. I didn’t think I would be an interesting subject and I didn’t want o make a personal film. I prefer to be behind the camera, not in front of it. As I got more distance from my diagnosis, I began to read more articles about breast cancer in the general population, and see more mention of diverse survivors who connected online and at conferences. I became aware that each breast cancer diagnosis is unique to the individual in terms of the chemistry of the tumor, how it interacts with each person’s unique body and how individual circumstances influence access to treatment, choices and longevity. “One size does not fit all” when dealing with each individual’s circumstances and cultural context. Each person’s breast cancer situation is unique. Breast cancer patients are often asked to make their own choices in terms of treatment. The moment the diagnosis is received, each person must gather information and make life-altering decisions under extreme emotional duress, all in a relatively short period of time. Individual circumstances are unique and yet, breast cancer is an equal opportunity disease. It doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, black, white, Asian, or brown. It doesn't care if you live in the North, South, East or West, in the city or in rural isolation. It does not discriminate. It was at this point, as I was realizing all of this, that I knew I wanted to make a film. Hearing and seeing truthful stories from articulate and resilient women who have traveled the road before would be invaluable for navigating the treatments and keeping hope alive. Knowledge is power, the successful prevention and treatment of breast cancer depends on this. The film would have a purpose and that is what motivated me to finally take on the project that eventually lead to the film LIFE INTERRUPTED. I wanted to include multiple stories, multiple perspectives to simultaneously show the uniquely personal aspects and universality of the disease process. I also wanted to use my own experience to connect with other women-we were, after all, sisters by way of our experiences with breast cancer. I wanted to connect with women who were, in my opinion, underrepresented in the media portrayal of breast cancer: women of color, rural women and younger women. Eventually, I made the film I wish I could have see when I was diagnosed. LIFE INTERRUPTED is an open and honest film about some of the most deeply personal aspects of a breast cancer diagnosis. Waiting in doctor’s offices, taking off my clothes to be poked and prodded and waiting for test results to make life saving/life altering decisions, took up most of my time during my diagnosis. This is not unique to me and my experience. After diagnosis, we focus in on what needs to be done. In my case, I think I disassociated from my breasts in order to “get the facts” and put information together to make intelligent decisions. I did not feel I could get all emotional about it I am as vain as the next person - believe me - but for that moment in time, when I was going though two separate breast cancer diagnosis and finally the mastectomy, I was dissociated from my breasts and my inhibitions. As the director of the film, and so I became one of the patients depicted in the film. I would not ask anyone else to do what I myself would not do in front of the camera, that just did not seem ethical or fair. It may affect the ability to show the film in more places but I do think that if you are doing a film on breast cancer, you kind need to be able to show breasts (in this case mine). These are true stories after all. My mom was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer at age 65. Although she had yearly mammograms, they failed to detect her tumor. I believe this failure over time lead to her being diagnosed with MBC. She had a lumpectomy as part of her diagnosis but she never had a mastectomy. Her cancer had already spread to her stomach and bones, it was not warranted for her situation. Her disease influenced my checking of my own breasts on a monthly basis which lead to me finding my first lump, which I found 2 months after a clean mammogram. We both had very dense breasts, which I believe played a big role in the failure to detect our individual tumors. My decision to have a bilateral mastectomy was made for the following reasons combined: I was diagnosed twice within five years, I was the daughter of a breast cancer survivor, I was premenopausal and ILC is known to jump to the other breast. Though I was only diagnosed with breast cancer in my right breast, both times, I decided to go with a bilateral mastectomy. In the film, there is another survivor whose story is told; Debi. As it turned out, Debi and I both had our fathers be very present during our cancer “journeys.” There was an instant connection between Debi and I, the way we both felt about our Dad’s as support systems. I felt very fortunate to have my Dad through both diagnoses and all the treatments. He is caring and has a background in biochemistry so has a scientific and logical mind. He also spent 12 years prior with my mom after her metastatic breast cancer diagnosis. My dad was very experienced with the whole breast cancer realm, including patient advocacy and partnering with one’s doctor to make the best choices for your own situation while keeping in mind quality of life issues. I will always be appreciative of the time and energy he spent helping me navigate my choices and treatments. He was THERE for me and I will always be grateful for the time and energy he spent helping me navigate my choices and treatments. We are currently launching the film via festivals and community screenings. In 2018, the film screened seven times in three countries (Germany, United States, Switzerland) for over 2500 people, received BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE AWARD from Long Beach Indie International Film Festival and was nominated for a Dolores Huerta Award. Most importantly, as the filmmaker, I was able to attend most of the screenings and meet with dozens of breast cancer survivors, caregivers and family members who told me what a positive impact the film had on them, a moving and humbling experience for me as both a survivor and filmmaker. AND WE ARE JUST GETTING STARTED… In 2019 we will continue with screenings and collaborate with community organizations to bring screenings to many more people, providing HOPE for survivors as it promotes understanding and education to everyone about what it truly means to survive breast cancer. Our ultimate call to action is: · Take responsibility to advocate for one’s own health. · Get exams and diagnostics when appropriate · Make decisions from knowledge rather than fear. · Instill hope · For people who aren’t personally diagnosed, to support survivors in their lives and to support research and programs that directly benefit survivors. Finally, I hope to use this film to start a foundation to provide young survivors financial resources to help them make it through their diagnosis and treatments. Putting a huge hole in the pocketbook is a well-known and experienced side effect of any breast caner diagnosis. If you would like to see a screening in your area or want to find out more about the film, please click here For more information about the film including trailer, press, awards and more click here Note: This piece has been updated & republished with permission from WILDFIRE Magazine, the 2018 “Body” issue (Vol 3, No 3, Copyright (c) June 2018 by Wildfire Community LLC). More information available at wildfirecommunity.org .

My Year of Living Cancerously, by Ann Loonam January 26, 2020 In November of 2012, I found myself putting off my annual mammogram which I knew I needed to take care of. I have an extensive family history of cancer, and my Mom had just passed way from metastatic endometrial cancer a few months earlier. As a result, catching up on my medical appointments was not a high priority. Though in hindsight, it certainly should have been. My Dad died in 1986 from prostate cancer when I was a junior in college. One of my sisters has had thyroid cancer and all three of us girls in my family have had skin cancer. My brother is the only one in my immediate family who has not had a cancer diagnosis and I pray that he never hears the words ‘you have cancer.’ After my initial mammogram in 2012 I was called back for additional imaging. This had happened a couple of times before, and I wasn’t all that concerned about it. When I walked into the imaging area, the same technician greeted me who had done the initial mammogram. ‘Do you know why they wanted you to come back in?’ she asked. ‘I’m guessing they just needed more images.’ I responded. Then I saw the computer screen with my mammogram up on it. I could see the two spots as bright as day, one larger than the other. More mammogram images were taken, then I was told an ultrasound would be needed. The ultrasound was conducted, and it was after that when the radiologist came in and sat down. He said in effect that there were some spots that looked ‘suspicious for cancer.’ He told me a biopsy would need to be done, and asked since I was there already did I want to do it then or come back another day? I opted to have it done then since I was there, I then went into to a small changing area and waited for the procedure room to be prepped. That’s when it hit me, I most likely have cancer. The radiologist noted that I seemed fairly calm, that’s when I told him I had just lost my Mom to cancer and couldn’t believe this was happening to me now. I have 3 siblings, 2 live out of state, and my other sister an hour away. As I got changed for the biopsy, I sent a text to my sister in Oregon saying, ‘it looks like I have breast cancer.’ The gut feeling I had was correct, it was cancer. This was confirmed after the biopsy by my primary care doctor the next day. I wasn’t surprised at all, though I was numb and a little stunned. The official word was stage 2, triple negative breast cancer, and after genetic testing I have the BRCA2 gene mutation as well. What followed was treatment that did not go as planned. It was to be surgery, chemo, then radiation. Being diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer, there was no disputing that chemotherapy was in the plans. After the first surgery the margins weren’t clear, so I was given two options: go back in and do a re-incision to get the margins clear or go straight to a mastectomy. I opted for the re-incision. From the time of my diagnosis I was hoping and praying that I wouldn’t have to undergo a mastectomy. After the second surgery I had a call from the surgeon who let me know the margins still weren’t clear, and that a mastectomy would be necessary. I sat there and let the word sink in, mastectomy. My sister was visiting and helping me after my second surgery and after I hung up with the surgeon I asked her to let my other two siblings know what the new plan was. Again, I found myself stunned and, in a fog, trying to wrap my head around this latest news. What was truly awful when I look back now, is that I started chemo not long after hearing this news that I had cancer and knowing that when I was done months later, I would have to undergo a third surgery (the double mastectomy) and have my ovaries removed due to the genetic mutation. The cancer was on the right side, but I saw no reason to have a one-sided mastectomy with my family history. What followed was months of nausea from the chemo that nothing, and I mean nothing, helped. Debilitating bone pain in my legs that was so bad I could literally hardly stand it (thank you Neulasta!) I had made it through 10 infusions of the second chemo drug and had to stop before I could complete all 12. I was in so much pain and so miserable that I just couldn’t do it. There was no ‘final chemo’ celebration, no bell to ring, no signs stating that I was done with photos taken, etc. It came to an end when I called the nurse and told her in tears that I couldn’t come in that day as planned for chemo, I had given up, the side effects were too extreme. After some time to recover from chemo (about a month or so I believe) it was time for my last surgery. Honestly, I had been in such a fog of grief and sadness that thoughts of that final surgery hadn’t really been top of mind for me. At that point I just wanted to get it over with. I couldn’t work at all through my 8 months of treatment. The side effects from chemo were too extreme which ruled out even working part time. What followed the final surgery was the biggest surprise to me. I felt relatively ‘good’ for a month or so then came down with pneumonia. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had pneumonia. After pneumonia, it was one virus or illness after another, and I was beyond frustrated. It wasn’t the ‘every day will feel like your birthday’ feeling that a friend and fellow survivor had told me during treatment to look forward to. After finally seeing an integrative MD about 5 months post treatment I found out that stress takes a terrible toll on the immune system, and that I went into 8 months of treatment broken down in a variety of ways. Having just lost my Mom and all the grief and stress associated with that had taken a huge toll on my body and I had absolutely no idea. Not having that important piece of information, understanding the state of my health before treatment, is what I wish had been handled differently. It’s important in my opinion, for anyone undergoing such harsh treatment for a terrible disease, to know what kind of shape they are in (other than having cancer) beforehand. What I would do if I could go back and change anything would be to have seen an integrative or functional medicine MD before chemo and find out if there was anything I could do to help my immune system and to detox from the medications. I can’t say for sure, but I would assume chemo would have gone a bit smoother, and I wouldn’t have ended up getting sick so much post treatment. My oncologist told me that in her 20 years of practice I was the one patient who had such a horrible time with chemo. I kind of wish she hadn’t told me that, but I don’t doubt it, it was awful. It was an odd feeling once I had gone through the three surgeries and 2 cycles of chemo – one of finality but not having any direction as to ‘now what?’ I believe that survivorship, and all the mental and physical aspects that come with it, should get more attention. I could have used some type of guidebook of what to expect, but I had nothing to go on. Just watching other friends go through treatment but we are all unique and handle treatment differently. Since 2013 and getting through my treatment it has taken a very long time to get my physical and mental health on track at the same time. I worked with a nutritionist, the integrative MD and others to learn as much as I could. Fast forward to today and in August I’ll celebrate being cancer free for 7 years. A big takeaway from my cancer experience is that I don’t want what I went through to be for nothing. I learned a great deal post treatment as I’ve focused on my health and that’s why I freely share my story others. In 2016 I set up my Luckygirlbyann FB Blog page and Instagram account to talk about what I learned along the way post cancer, other topics I am passionate about, along with quotes I find inspiring. What helped me get through my ‘year of living cancerously’ was the vision of a bridge and getting to the other side of it. Using the word ‘journey’ to describe going through what cancer patients do every day did not resonate with me from the beginning ( nor did it resonate for Andrea ). That bridge turned out to be a lot longer than I had planned on or anticipated but I did eventually cross it, and for that I am grateful.

By Veronica Marie I had been feeling a rather strange pain in my right breast for a few weeks back in the summer of 2017. I didn’t think much of the pain at first. In my mind I thought it was from the towel I used wrapped around myself, perhaps I was wrapping it too tight! I hadn't been to the gyn for a few years so an examination was in order. I had started a new job and wanted to be successful. I was taking care of everyone else and not myself. I finally went to a mobile mammogram van which was on-site at my new job. I can still hear the technician say she felt a lump in my breast. Needless to say, I was devastated because now I had to go for further testing. I felt alone because I was alone in this big New York City. Over the next few weeks, I would undergo more tests, a sonogram and finally a biopsy. I would go to a breast specialist only to have them blurt out that you have cancer, all before a biopsy was performed. It was discovered that I had two pea sized lumps in my breasts. The diagnosis was Stage II breast cancer. I was 1 in 8! You know one out of 8 women will be diagnosed with breast cancer. No not me, I couldn’t be a statistic. I had witnessed my beloved father succumb to lung cancer, as well as my brother who would perish from multi myeloma. I am thankful for all the people that helped me along the way. One day as I was walking down the street I ran into a very good friend I had lost touch with. A few weeks later she would become my closest confidant and she even recommended my surgeon to me. She was there when the doctor said those three horrific words, “you have cancer”! The saddest thing she said to me is why are you crying? I needed to cry and grieve as there was no history of breast cancer on my maternal family side. We did have a history of female problems ranging from difficult menstrual periods, endometriosis, and fibroids. On January 3, 2018 I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. I wished there was a treatment facility, you know like a one-stop shopping facility, to go to but there was not. The most difficult part of my journey was that my doctors were scattered. I needed an oncologist, a plastic surgeon and a radiation specialist, plus my surgeon! This was difficult because my Sister and Mother all lived out of state. How was I going to get through this chapter in my life? I found a way to cope after I dried my tears. It was like I went through the five stages of death. I cried a river of tears; I was mad at God for some reason and I had no control. My old gyn doctor had retired, but in the interim he said it was just a cyst! I felt a sense of relief which only lasted for 24 hours. Next step – Surgery The entire month of January I spent meeting my team of physicians and traveling all over Queens. I called Memorial Sloan Kettering for advice about the BRACA gene, and taking chemotherapy, however they never returned my call. I went out on sick leave and had the surgery. I was told to be at the hospital at 7am. In order to prepare for the surgery, I had to undergo some tests that morning. I wish my doctor had informed me how hard this day would be. It has been 4 months since my mammogram and so many other tests in between. I had to drink a silver potion in order for the technician to see the tumor. I sat or should I say I leaned forward in a chair like concoction for 22 minutes, and was unable to make even the slightest move. So, when I was wheeled into another x-ray room on the morning of my surgery I was horrified when she said I had to have four incisions in my breast. No one told me. Thank goodness she was a kind and gentle technician and made me feel calm. My Sister and best friend were right outside the door, but we were locked in the room. I needed just one more hug. I just kept saying to myself they are cutting my breasts off why do they have to put me through this, I.e., four needles into my breast and no pain medicine. In the last decade I have had two or three surgeries and had to walk into the operating room on my own. A long time ago one was wheeled into surgery on a gurney, tired and sleepy, and a little mellow from medicine. Well not anymore. So, I had a nice dressing gown on that was attached to a warming heater. After that was detached a nurse walked with me into the operating room. I also want to say that I had a wonderful anesthesiologist who put me to sleep like a baby. I woke up about five hours later to see my sister and best friend. After the recovery room I went to my room and thus began my journey at becoming cancer free! After surgery you are told that you are cancer free. However, I wish someone had told me this fact earlier in my journey. My Sister stayed with me for a week and we remained in constant contact by phone, text messaging and email. I consider myself to an extraordinarily lucky woman now that I have survived and can make that statement. I don’t know how I endured all those invasive tests, and the breakup of a relationship, but I did. I went to every chemotherapy session without fear or too much emotion. I have come a long way in my journey from cancer statistic to a self-proclaimed God-fearing woman. I want to be a survivor, and I think I am! Listen to Veronica's interview on the podcast, Breast Cancer Conversations where she shares her experience leading up to a breast cancer surgery and what she wishes she had known.

To all the gorgeous ladies who are struggling with breast cancer: “You are stronger than you think, and you are beautiful; it doesn't matter how cloudy your life looks”. Today, rock painting is my hobby and escape. Painting rocks gives me peace and allows me to share my happiness with others. Besides giving them away to my friends, I like to leave newly painted rocks next to others in public places. Today, I proudly celebrate being a breast cancer survivor. So far I learned to listen to my body and put my life into perspective. Two years ago, at the age of fifty-one, I was introduced to the world of cancer. I was a mature and fulfilled person being a lead esthetician at the peak of my career. I enjoyed my job and every day of work was a pleasure for me. The doctors said I had an Invasive Lobular Carcinoma of my right breast, 2 cm, HER 2 negative, stage II. When they told me the diagnosis, I felt like my days were numbered. All the horror stories about breast cancer and chemo came to my mind. Their confidence that this disease is treatable helped me. But, I said, "I don't want to do chemo!" I looked at the treatment plan and I didn’t understand it. My brain was unable to process anything; the only thing that came to my mind was that it will take forever.  My cancer journey started with a mastectomy surgery which also involved the removal of my sentinel lymph nodes and partial reconstruction (July 3rd, 2018). Later on, I had a second surgery, which was about more lymph nodes (August 3rd). After that came the chemo, the scariest days of my life. The procedure prescribed by my oncologist involved four rounds of Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide, which were followed by twelve rounds of Taxol. After the chemo, I did six weeks of radiation treatment (twenty-four sessions), but this was like a walk in a park compared to the chemo. The fear of not being able to practice my job any longer was a scary thing. I had nightmares that I would not be able to use my fingers, which is essential in my job. I also worried about getting sick during treatment due to my weakened immune system. But the support I got from my family, friends, and medical staff helped me overcome my anxiety. For me, the worst part of my cancer journey was the day I lost my hair. I have to confess, I prepared myself in advance for what was coming, but the way I felt the minute I started to lose my hair was unreal. It hit me hard for days because a woman’s hair is her treasure. My husband showed me the bright side of wearing wigs, which is having the option of different hair colors. My advice is to have two wigs ready before you begin chemo. My meals, at that time, were based on fresh fruits and vegetables. I had a lot of fluids that helped me avoid any complications and strengthen my immune system. Also, I covered my feet and hands with ice to prevent neuropathy. Chemo brain is real! I felt disoriented, lost, and tired. So, I did tons of yoga, meditations, and I began rock painting. Let me tell you, my fellow beautiful ladies, how relaxing and rewarding rock painting is; it's like therapy. Before I had never thought that a painted rock could bring me so much happiness. Yes, it was a long, difficult journey, but honest to God I had a smooth sail. I worked every single day; I was able to have a normal life filled with lots of love from my family and friends. Right now I am still painting rocks, and I am on hormonal therapy with Tamoxifen. Every day when I wake up I thank God for giving me another beautiful day on this Earth. ~KT

By Mary Ladd When I was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer at age thirty-nine, people became needy and pushy, wanting me to help them feel better about my disease. I didn’t have the energy to answer so many questions. My solution? Email stories, medical stats and updates using my usual sarcasm and sass. I wrote things down so that I could document and process my emotions and experiences. I also realized chemo brain is real, and having a written record was necessary when I couldn’t remember vitals. From the comfort of my couch, I felt connected to the outside world, even if I missed the hustle bustle and normalcy of my pre-cancer life. With the support of writers such as Mary Roach, Daniel Handler, Robert Mailer Anderson and Vanessa Hua, I wrote my way through things like: Nursing a crush for my surgeon Digging poop out of my own body after days of constipation Little girls telling me to take off my wig (that’d be a no!) Searching for an end point. There isn’t an end point! Singing “Dildos Are Forever” under anesthesia in the surgery stadium I partnered with a friend, cartoonist Don Asmussen, creator of the  San Francisco Chronicle  feature "Bad Reporter." He was a cancer survivor at the time and had me giggling and spitting out my coffee as he made fun of me while sharing his own side effect-tales about losing his hair. We’d meet in a mall food court to talk about “The Wig Diaries” book project, and the result is an illustrated compilation of essays that tackles druggy wig shopping, going naked at the hot springs with a mangled body and only one nipple and the sorrow of hair loss and withered sexuality. Because I use humor, this is not Chicken Soup for the Cancer Soul . As I said goodbye to body parts, I fretted over finances while also debating if eating too much BBQ or wearing cheap and sparkly drugstore make-up contributed to my cancer. Bouts of middle of the night insomnia made me feel especially afraid. There was also the aching grief and guilt of mourning patients who were Stage Four. I sincerely wanted to take away their pain and disease. Cancer forced me to learn to sit still with this kind of terrible helplessness and discomfort. It was cathartic to lay it all out via my stories, while sharing helpful tips on what to say to someone with cancer. We don’t get enough practice using language about illness, death and grief, and it takes practice. I try to have compassion when folks screw up, and give me advice to drink more lemon water or ingest a lot of turmeric and brown rice. Yet many studies show that writing about thoughts and feelings in the face of unexpected life happenings such as cancer lowers anxiety and stress. Sign me up! Coronavirus remains incredibly challenging for many. Yet writing things down has been a great way to keep moving forward. When I teach writing classes, students enjoy using writing prompts, which are short bits of text used to kickstart our creativity. Once coronavirus started shutting many aspects of “normal” life, I went into research mode. So many of my friends were now being forced to face their fears and experiences in the same fashion I did with cancer. I decided to create a book called “Write it Down: Coronavirus Writing Prompts,” using 186 short writing exercises. Writers of all stripes can choose their own adventure. Some tips: At first, it may be tough and possibly surprising when certain thoughts and emotions surface. Write what you can. Keep the pen to the paper (or fingers on the keyboard) for five minutes. If you stumble, write a list of thoughts and ideas that you can come back to. There’s no need to fuss over spelling or word flow. Note any prompts we do not get to are for you to try out in your writing practice. Writing: You might find it helpful to write as if you are in conversation with a close friend, favorite teacher, or other trusted person. Describe how people move and talk, including posture, voice and/or mannerisms. What colors, textures, people and things are nearby? Colors and scents are especially evocative. Dig into these sample prompts from the book: What’s your secret weapon: Are you organized? Strong? Fierce? Forward-thinking? Smart? Calm? Hardworking? Funny? Describe the ways in which you’ve recently used this secret weapon. Write an underwater scene with a cast of marine-life characters. Make it a drama, romance, science fiction piece or something else. When’s the last time you had a great, rolling belly laugh? What happened? Write in detail about what you’ve learned about your roomies/family after being forced to spend way too much time together in close quarters. What are some things that annoy you? Could be loud chip-eating noises, 20-minute shower takers, or the not-so-mysterious way a certain someone leaves dirty dishes everywhere. If you live alone, examine the things you do that would annoy others, or create a cast that lives together in a large co-op, cramped apartment or other scenario. Writing has helped me realize how fragile, weird, sad and exciting life can be. The routine has now become celebrated. When I was bald, bloated and exhausted from cancer, I used to look out the window and assume everyone was having a wonderful time doing amazing fun things. Now I have to use my brain to remember some of the fun and amazing things we all used to do because those activities are on hold and things feel especially upside down. Mary Ladd teaches online writing classes at The Writers Grotto and has written for Playboy, Time Magazine and the San Francisco Chronicle. She collaborated with Anthony Bourdain on “No Reservations” and is the author of “Write it Down: Coronavirus Writing Prompts” and “The Wig Diaries.” Ladd plans dance parties for Bay Area Young Survivors (BAYS), a support group for young people living with breast cancer. You can find her upcoming events, classes and book information at  maryladd.com . “Write it Down” can be purchased at Lulu.com, Barnes & Noble and as an e-book at Smashwords. “The Wig Diaries” is available at Green Apple Books and other bookstores, as well as on Amazon.

By Amanda Hulton Diagnosed age 37 Stage 3 Hormone Positive HER2 Negative Working full time, exercising regularly, lots of socializing, mom of 2 boys ages 7 and 10, 13 years married to my high school sweetheart and cancer! It was the day after trick or treating with my kids, doing all things a 37-year-old Mom would be doing and that phone call with the words “You have breast cancer”. We all are only one moment away from our lives being forever changed and this was mine. A year before my own diagnosis my Mom had completed genetic testing and was BRCA2 positive, we have a family history of breast, ovarian and pancreatic cancer. Her and I met with a breast surgeon to discuss her preventative double mastectomy. I remember listening to my Mom's questions, hearing about the procedure and wondering what I would do if it was me. She was nearing 62 and I was 37, would that make a difference? Little did I know at that time I already had cancer and I too would test positive for BRCA2. Cancer does not care you are a young mom, working, a wife, a sister, a friend, a daughter and healthy otherwise. My treatment plan included chemotherapy, surgery, radiation, salpingo-oopherectomy and hormone blockers for 10 years. Sounds good right? I had an aggressive tumor that spread to my lymph nodes and I was going to be starting chemotherapy in 3 weeks. I was set up for 8 rounds every 2 weeks so long as I could handle it. Well, I almost couldn’t, that was the toughest 4 months of my life. I had a picc line, showering was not normal, I slept for days, I was dehydrated, puffy from meds, allergic to the infusions, allergic to the tape, had no hair and was gaining weight and feeling so far from what I felt only one month earlier. Two of the things I struggled the most with and stressed about in the early days of my diagnosis was losing my hair and how having cancer was going to affect my marriage. In the early days I googled for hours, all day, all night looking up how long before hair grows back, styles for short hair, timelines for re-growth and products to help speed up the process. Chemo day 17… just as I was told I had my head shaved. I still get teary remembering this moment. I now not only felt sick, I looked sick and I didn’t look like the girl I had known for 37 years. Who was this person staring back at me? I got a wig right away; I called her my lifeline. Once I had it, I wore it ALL. THE. TIME. It made me feel confident to leave my house, to have visitors, to go to my kids’ school and sports. I even wore it down a waterslide just so I could live life with my kids. Coping with Chemo: ♥ Stay hydrated ♥ Sleep ♥ Eat small meals ♥ Get dressed, put on some makeup on the days you feel well ♥ Ask for meds if you feel sick or unwell ♥ Call if you are worried ♥ Get a wig and one you feel good in ♥ Buy pretty hats, scarves and experience with them ♥ Walk even 5 min on days you can Marriage… This was also a big concern of mine. I read so many heartbreaking stories and equally as many heartwarming stories. I wondered where we would fall. My husband stepped up, he was now a single parent, working full time, full time caregiver, cleaner, chef and everything else. He ROCKED it. I have so much respect for him and that he too was going through his own worries and unknowns and continued to keep us afloat. We are going to be married 14 years this month and I look at him with so much love, my heart could burst. I wish I hadn’t wasted so many hours worrying and had a little faith. With being BRCA2 positive I was scheduled for a double mastectomy and felt it was the only option. What was troubling was my decision to have reconstruction, this was one decision I had to own. I was not supported by my radiation oncologist to have implants; this created a lot of tears and fears. However, my heart of hearts was that I wanted to wake up from surgery with breasts. I needed this, this was for me and my overall wellbeing. I considered all options and being that I would require radiation did not take this decision lightly. I went ahead with implants over the muscle and am proud of myself for standing my ground on what I wanted and in this case, needed. Recovery from a double mastectomy looked like this: ♥ Sleeping in a recliner for 3 plus weeks, ♥ Never missing the next dose of pain killers, ♥ Sleeping, ♥ Adjusting to 5 drains hanging from my body for 2 weeks, ♥ Scars across each of my breasts, ♥ Swelling, ♥ Watching for bruising ♥ Arm reach being no more then inches from my body ♥ Post-surgery exercises I healed well and was off pain killers within 10 days. I transitioned to my bed around week 4, sleeping on a wedge to keep me upright and pillows among pillows. It felt like I barely recovered from one treatment and was prepping for the next. My pathology showed 3 of 11 lymph nodes positive and my oncologist was now starting me on tamoxifen and zoladex immediately. I was getting ready for radiation; I would have 25 rounds. I wore a bolus for the last part of each treatment, this helped the radiation be closer to the top of my skin which would cause more burns. I also was being radiated on my left side and so I had to hold my breath putting space between the radiation and my heart. I almost got through all 25 rounds with very little reaction, but on day 25 my skin started to break, I was not prepared for the next 3 weeks as the burns got worse every day. I peeled from the top of my armpit across my breast and underneath. I got an infection that had to be treated. I didn’t feel supported through this time, no doctor visits, no one looking at my skin, just me trying to play nurse with a burnt body. It was summer and I missed out on pools, lakes, swimming and stayed indoors to stay cool and avoid the sun. Again, mentally it was just as tough as it was physically. Coping with Radiation: ♥ Buy non adhesive cloths to cover when skin breaks, will help peeling and sticking to clothes. ♥ After showering leave affected area under arm wet, this will allow you to get dressed with it being a bit slippery and not sticking. ♥ Air it out as much as you possible can. ♥ Use polysporin plus pain when skin breaks to help prevent infection and reduce pain. ♥ Moisturize constantly, all throughout treatment and do both breasts this will help reduce scars. ♥ Avoid sun. ♥ Advil helped with inflammation and pain. ♥ Where t-shirts that are snug and create a barrier between your arm and body. ♥ Drink lots of water. ♥ Rest So, here’s where things change. I am all done chemotherapy, surgery, reconstruction, radiation and am 4 months into hormone blockers and ovary suppression. I am struggling, I feel shocked what just happened. Emotionally and mentally I am having a hard time. Why? When I should be celebrating, I am done treatment. But I wasn’t I didn’t know how to feel and was re-playing the last 10 months over and over in my head. I started to see a social worker who helped me navigate these feelings and once she labelled them as grief, the loss of my previous life, the changes to my body and mind. I started to recognize that was exactly what I was experiencing. I continued seeking support for 6 months. I worked through a lot of feelings, it felt like I just woke up to realizing I had cancer and what I experienced. I slowly am still working on this; I am prioritizing self-care and it looks like this: ♥Yoga ♥Meditation ♥Reading ♥Saying No ♥Saying Yes ♥Slowing down I was a fairly private person most of my life and once I knew I had cancer I started to open up a bit more. It was hard to say the words “I have breast cancer”. Managing all the reactions, tears, fears and “you will be fine’s” was a challenge. As time went on, I did create a private group on social media where I would post updates, it was an online journal and served me well. I look back somedays and am starting to not recognize that girl who lived in a world of unknowns. I was supported by colleagues, friends and family and that felt good. It was close to my one-year anniversary before I made it Facebook official with what I had been going through. It was freeing, I felt a weight off my shoulders. I didn’t need to be embarrassed or ashamed of my diagnosis. I was fighting for my life. During this time, I had a salpingo-oopherectomy (tubes and ovaries removed). I was immediately into surgical menopause. SOOO HOT! I am finding this difficult even 6 months into it, finding ways to cope with a 39-year-old that feels 90. I have always been one to find ways to continue living, I don’t want to be defined by cancer and so I got a portable battery-operated fan, I have stopped drinking alcohol and with intermittent fasting find I have lessened these side effects. Coping with menopause: ♥ Personal fan ♥ Limit or avoid alcohol and caffeine ♥ Regular sleep ♥ Dress in layers ♥ Mild anti-depressant for night sweats and sleeping ♥ Keep hydrated ♥ Yoga ♥ Short walks I am now back working full time, managing the fatigue by taking regular breaks and not over scheduling my days off. Being okay with an untidy house somedays and choosing making memories as often as I can. On my 39th birthday I decided I was ready to help others; I launched my blog BreastCancerBeyond.com. I want to share the “real” story and inspire other women who are diagnosed. I have a whole new perspective, I see things I never saw before, I hear things I never heard before and I am looking at a world I didn’t know existed. I am proud of my journey; of my soul and the way I chose positivity. We control our minds it is not the other way around. A day in the life of a survivor is still new to me, I sometimes take a double take at my scars and am proud of my body for fighting along with me. I am embracing the new hair, being playful with my looks and appreciating every strand. I worry about unknowns and my kids and husband, and so I don’t sit on the beach watching them swim. Get in the water, swim, splash and laugh. All we have are memories, remember we are all only one moment away from our lives being forever changed. We are stronger together. Be kind to yourself, you are doing the absolute best you can in this very moment.

It all started in May of 2019. There was an annual exam I put off for quite some time. I thought to myself, I need to make an appointment. I finally went in for my exam. All was well until my doctor checked my breasts. She found a lump. "Did you ever feel this lump before?" she asked me. "No. Should I be worried?" "No no. I will send you to another place to get it checked." I went on with my day, but I was a little worried. Did not think much of what she said. I told my mother about it, and she said no way, it cannot be anything serious. I never made an appointment at that time. I did not have insurance or Medicaid. Luckily, a lady from a non-profit clinic called me to make an appointment. I said to her “I am sorry ma'am, but I do not have $500 to make an appointment for a mammogram.” I got my information wrong. The lady told me "it is free!" Well, in that case, I made the appointment.  Summertime was approaching, and my kids were getting out of school. I made plans to go visit my family in Virginia. I booked my tickets for three weeks. Beforehand, I made sure to get my mammogram. Stepping into the doctor's office I did not see anybody my age. The nurse calls my name to get a mammogram, and I am in high spirits. "You wait outside, and the doctor will see if we need any more pictures from you." They called my name back. Now I am having an ultrasound done. The nurses are taking multiple pictures. They move the ultrasound stick inch by inch. The nurses call the doctor in. "I need you to come back to get a biopsy." I asked why?! I told the doctor I already booked tickets to see my family. The doctor nervously said to cancel my tickets, or to do a biopsy in Virginia. "Doctor, can you at least tell me if it is cancerous or not?!" "No, not until the biopsy." My heart sunk. It is a feeling I do not want to have. It was hard to breathe. The room was caving in. I walk over to another lady to make an appointment for the biopsy. "When would you like to make it? Is July 3 okay?" I choked up then started crying. I am in total shock. The poor lady tried to comfort me. I stuttered and said that date was fine. I walked into a dark parking lot, sat in my car, and called my husband right away. I told him what was wrong, and he tried to console me. He tells me it will be okay. Everything will be alright. What a sweetheart. While I was visiting my family, my diagnosis was always on the back of my mind. My sister and mother did not think for a second it was breast cancer. After all, it does not run in our family. I would be on my phone looking for answers and support. My heart kept sinking...this seems like breast cancer. No no it can’t be, I thought. I went on with the next couple of weeks, enjoying my vacation. I came back to do a biopsy appointment. A week later, they called me in for my results. I went in by myself. Unfortunately, they confirmed it was indeed stage 2b breast cancer. Then I spent about a month doing tests after tests. I was scheduled for 6 months of chemotherapy. One month A.C. chemo, then Taxol. A single mastectomy in March of 2020 was done, and had 33 rounds of radiation in June 2020. During my first round of chemo, I was not too nervous. I kept my head up, and my spirits high. First one done, three to go! It was pretty rough the first week. I was fatigued and barely ate. Also, I felt sick to my stomach. My mother and husband were there to help with the house and kids. I will never forget all the support I got. I zoomed by my other rounds of chemo. Luckily, they were surprisingly easy. No effects, did not feel sick, I even had energy.  Throughout my breast cancer journey, I relied on God and kept a positive outlook. That was what helped me the most. How can I worry if my life is in God’s hands? Whatever He has planned for me it is for The Best. I thank God for everything. As of September 2020, I have been cancer free since March 2020. I have hormone therapy left for five years. It’s okay. I will do it. I will make it and you will make it too.

On November 15, 2016 I had my annual mammogram, which I have had every year since I turned 40. After my mammogram in 2013 I remember how my heart dropped when I got a call saying I needed to come back for an ultrasound of my right breast. What they saw turned out to be a small cyst, absolutely nothing to worry about. So, when I received a similar phone call after my 2016 mammogram about something that needed to be examined further in my left breast, I was so unconcerned it was almost two weeks before I called to schedule the necessary appointment. On December 22, 2016, a few weeks after my 46th birthday, I returned for the additional testing; mammogram compression views of my left breast, and an ultrasound. Lying on the table in the ultrasound room, I assumed the position with my left breast exposed and my left arm above my head as the technician did her thing. I watched as she measured something she saw on the screen. When she finished she said, "Stay in the same position. I'll be right back." She returned with a male doctor who told me I had a mass in my left breast that would require a biopsy.  Baffled, I asked, 'So, this is something different than the cyst that was seen in my right breast 3 years ago?'  He quickly responded, "This is something completely different." Then proceeded to explain what the needle biopsy would be like. He said other than a needle stick to numb the area I shouldn't feel anything. Next, they allowed me to get dressed and took me to the "quiet room" so a very nice woman named Vanessa could softly tell me not to worry and that 90% of the time it turns out to be nothing. I'm thinking, 'Well Vanessa, it may not be cancer, but it is obviously SOMETHING or I wouldn't be sitting here in the quiet room with you so you can make sure I understand what the doctor told me." The biopsy was scheduled on January 9, 2017. Biopsy day finally arrived. I was not nervous or anxious at all. I was at peace. I got dressed, put on make-up, took a selfie, sent it to my family and joked that I had to make sure I looked my best just in case the doctor or someone involved with the procedure was a hot, single, tall, Christian man. I figured he would've already seen my boobs, which may qualify as a first date. No such luck. That day I learned to never let a man tell me what will or won't hurt my lady parts. The assault on my left breast that they called a needle biopsy was far more painful than described. When it was over I was told my doctor should have the results within 72 hours. On January 10th, the very next day, I got a call from my doctor's nurse who told me my doctor would like me to come into the office so he could talk to me that day. I went alone, knowing the results must be cancer. That day, I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma. My doctor carefully explained my new "team members" would be a breast surgeon and an oncologist who would begin the process of "staging," which would require more diagnostic testing. After the overwhelming amount of tests, scans, and doctor appointments. It was determined the tumor in my left breast was just shy of stage 2 by 0.3 centimeters. After a long heart to heart with my breast surgeon, she and I agreed a lumpectomy was a good option for me. She explained she would also remove two lymph nodes to be certain the cancer had not spread. On January 30, 2017, as I was being wheeled into surgery, I prayed, ‘God, I don’t want to wake up from this surgery. I’m tired of fighting.’ I had just spent five years recovering and adjusting to my new normal after suffering a stroke on February 2, 2011, which required extensive physical, occupational, and speech and language therapies. From the day I received my breast cancer diagnosis to the moment I was being wheeled into surgery, I was never afraid of dying from breast cancer. I was afraid of what it would take to live through breast cancer. Just before the anesthesia kicked in, I heard softly in my spirit, “If you promise to wake up, I promise to carry you through.” The results of the pathology report indicated my tumor was high grade, ER+. My breast surgeon and oncologist hoped I would be able to bypass chemotherapy and begin radiation four weeks after surgery. However, the results from my Oncotype Test determined chemotherapy would also be a part of my treatment plan. That day, I cried.  For the entire year, I would go on to complete what I now call my, “Breast Cancer World Tour 2017.” I met some amazing people along the way and have a medical team that has become family to me. I did six months of chemotherapy, seven weeks of radiation, and was prescribed Anastrozole to take for five years. Chemotherapy was as hard as I thought it would be. Radiation, though not invasive, left me feeling like I had the flu on steroids. Not to mention the painful burns that occurred during the last week of treatments. On January 12, 2019 I suffered another stroke. Though milder than the first in 2011, I was taken off of the Anastrozole immediately, because of the associated risk of stroke. Two and half years later, I don’t know that I would say I am a breast cancer “survivor.” Warrior, seems a much better word for all of us that get up each day and fight an enemy we cannot see with our eyes, but know is lurking in the shadows. I’ve discovered recovery and healing from such a viscous disease and its treatments is a lifetime process. Each morning that I open my eyes, I am so very grateful that I woke up!

By Deb Hart AUTHOR, INSPIRATIONAL, SPEAKER, MOM, FRIEND, ENTREPRENEUR, DIAGNOSED AT AGE 50 WITH LOBULAR AND DUCTAL CARCINOMA. BILATERAL MASTECOMY, INITIAL RECONSTRUCTION WITH IMPLANTS THAT ENCAPSULATED. SECONDARY RECONSTRUCTION WITH SILICONE IMPLANTA AND FATTY TISSUE/ADIPOSE TRANSTER, 3-D NIPPLE TATTOOS. Seven months after I lost my twenty-two year old son, Kasey, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had only been married for a few months before Kasey died. This new relation ship was based on the fun-loving, life-of-the-party girl who was foot-loose and fancy-free, financially independent and ready to live life now that the kids were gone. I was young, healthy and happy. I was these things, and in the span of just a few months I didn’t know who or what I was. Wow. Breasts removed. Chemotherapy. Infections. Had just lost my son. To say I was not a good parent would be understatement of gross proportions . I barely had any will to get up each morning, let alone to rebuild, relive, or reconstruct. However, time marches on. In the beginning of this story I struggled just to get out of bed and take a shower. In the end I wrote a book, started a non-profit, and became an inspirational speaker. In between I got new boobies. Obviously, there’s more to the story! In the train-wreck stage of things, even my new rack was a disaster. My reconstruction was ok for about five years, and them my implants encapsulated, (which means scar tissue was forming and hardening around the implants). I had hunched shoulders and pain- not to mention they did not look good. So, I found a physician who claimed he could fix me right up! We had the damn things re-moved and replaced with the more natural lipo fat implants. Well, wouldn’t you know it, this too went sideways. Because somehow, despite a “successful” surgery, two days after arriving home my kidneys failed. Subsequently my heart failed, although by then I was in the ICU and they were able to revive me. Not so for the kidneys. I was sent home from the hospital after three weeks, to a life of dialysis three times a week for five hours a day. I was told there was a chance my kidneys would “kick back in.” But for three months, this was my new so-called “life”. Like many before me I was desperate to find a reason – some purpose for all that I was going through, so I bargained and made a deal with God . I promised if he would just get those kidneys going again, I would start a non-profit to provide retreats for women diagnosed with breast cancer I would write a book. I would become an inspirational speaker. The powers that be must have liked those ideas because the kidneys started working again. I wrote a book. I started a successful 501(c)3: “Pink Sistas”, and I am an inspirational speaker. The second marriage failed (go figure)! But the new breasts are pretty good. I was nervous about them, especially being back out on the dating scene. But I did a little research and found a woman who did breast reconstruction nipple tattoos. For me, this was the key to just possible accepting, and maybe even liking my bosom! The tattoos make me think I have something resembling real breasts, and in the shadowy light of intimacy, they actually feel “real.” As for my life, I got it back by giving back….I love the creativity and heart within the process of reaching out and supporting others. Every time I share my story, I come closer to healing my heart. Our friends and family want to be there and want to help us, but they haven’t “done the journey.” It is very different to be able to speak with someone who has suffered the same kind of challenge, the same kind of loss that you are experiencing. During treatment and during surgery, out families are there for us. After this, it seems that everyone offers the “high-five”, sending cards, messages, or food. There is then a period where family and friends feel “we were there for you”, but the process continues. As we hop our of the shower and see that our breasts are gone….these are the moments when the processing begins. We begin to the voice on our shoulder saying “when is it going to come back?” “How do I get my life back together?” When you join with other breast cancer patients, there is a sisterhood that does not end in the midst of your processing, but instead reaches a hand out to every stage of dealing with breast cancer and its aftermath. There is no judgment, only understanding. Do not put a timeline on your own processes. Joy and happiness will come back. Don’t expect them to be there every moment. It’s ok; this is a true hit to self-confidence and self-image. Allow yourself to be nurtured and cared for as much as your life allows for this.

By Donna J. Charlevoix This will be my 12th October in which the designation of Breast Cancer Awareness Month (BCAM) is very personal. I was first diagnosed with stage 0 breast cancer in 2009. After limited treatment and being “cured” (as I was told) I always felt like the pinkness of October was a little too commercialized. It felt insincere on some level. Fast forward to 2019. Last summer I was diagnosed with Stage 4 (metastatic) breast cancer which had spread to my bones. October seemed to come quick after my diagnosis and had a surreal feel to it. Everywhere I turned: pink and ribbons. Every business was selling a product with pink. Social media was flooded with pink. I couldn’t seem to escape it. I knew on some level many individuals and businesses felt like they were sincerely helping the cause of breast cancer awareness, and they were raising awareness. People are very aware of breast cancer. Awareness is not enough . Awareness is not going to keep me alive. Awareness is not going to prevent my two beautiful girls from losing their mother too early. Awareness is not going to keep my husband from being a widower before retirement. Awareness is not going to prevent my parents from outliving their child. Research for a true cure is the only thing that will save me and the other 168,000+ individuals in the U.S. living with a terminal diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer. My commitment to myself for this October - and really everyday - is to educate friends, family and strangers – basically everyone – that awareness is not enough. How to Move Beyond Awareness We need resources focused on research for a cure. We need to lobby our elected officials to support legislation for more funding for breast cancer research for a cure. We need to make sure every person knows that there is no cure and that 30% of breast cancer “survivors” will be diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer and not survive. We need to move beyond awareness to a true cure.

My name is Monique Costa and I’m 32 years old. Finding a lump in my breast one night completely changed my life and I knew this one was different. I had a history of fibroadenomas but they always came back benign. I called my doctor right away. The next few days consisted of endless scans, a biopsy and then getting a call at work that I had breast cancer. My doctor didn’t think my lump was anything to be worried about and it took us both by surprise. I remember bawling my eyes out and packing my stuff to head home from work. I was so scared, angry and upset that I heard these awful words that no one wants to hear. Many doctors appointments later, I was diagnosed with stage two, triple positive breast cancer at 27 years young. Being diagnosed with breast cancer at such a young age, I felt so alone. Every time I went to the doctors, the waiting rooms were filled with older ladies staring at me. Never in a million years did I think I would have to go through chemo and lose my hair or get burned from radiation. I didn't know that my life would consist of constant doctors appointments, scans and the fear of the unknown. My journey started with a lumpectomy and lymph node biopsy. After surgery, I had 6 rounds of intense chemo (TCHP) and a year of Herceptin infusions. I then had 33 rounds of radiation. I’m currently on Tamoxifen and a monthly injection called Lupron for 5 years. I'm In menopause and it’s a ton of fun… not! The silver lining is I will complete my 5 years of hormone therapy in 2021! Throughout my journey, I wanted to create awareness that young women can and do get breast cancer and it is so important to be in tune with your body and be a self-advocate. I didn’t have any family history and I was a healthy young adult. I had no risk factors and I still got breast cancer. I started sharing my journey through my blog ( www.moniquerose8.com ) and also social media. If I can help one woman check themselves and report anything to their doctor if it doesn't seem right, I know that I am helping many across the world. I'm also involved with many young advocate groups. Sharing my story has allowed me to find other young women across the world who just “get it.” They understand what it’s like to have hot flashes, talk about a family after cancer and the fear of recurrence. Throughout treatment, so many people asked how I could still have a smile on my face while I was battling for my life. Trust me, there were days I didn’t smile and I would just cry. I still have those days and I deal with anxiety; something I’ve never had in my life. My strength and resilience is what makes me feel strong. I didn't recognize myself throughout treatment. My hair is back to my pre-cancer length and I've gained weight throughout treatment. It's so hard to look in the mirror and not become discouraged that I don't have my pre-cancer body. Instead of getting upset, I focus on my strength and how I was able to overcome something that was so challenging. I appreciate that I can work out and eat healthy. Not being able to get off the couch from chemo and feeling so nauseous, brighter days seemed so far away. I continue to wear a smile on my face and appreciate my strength, while also looking forward to my beautiful future.

Hi, My name is Andrea and this is my Story... I certainly don’t remember being conventional, even when I was. I know being involved with breast cancer charities for the past 20 odd years, and even through my mom’s experience of it, that I would be unconventional in how I travelled through my own experience. I have a sense of humour and perspective on life that I would like to think is unique. So on discovering I had tumours, three in my right breast, and after an agonising three days waiting to hear if they had spread to my lymph glands (they hadn’t), this is how I decided to announce my breast cancer … This is my most potent Breast Cancer update ever. I have Breast Cancer and these have to go. My mother did not announce hers, in fact other than my father and me, no one was to learn of her disease until her death a year ago, with it, but not from it. At first, I had been cleared with a mammogram and an ultrasound. But inside me I knew it wasn’t the right diagnosis. What I want you to know is yourself. Know yourself so well that when a doctor tells you something you don’t believe, speak to another, know that the instinct inside you is right, and trust it. I cannot say it enough: early detection of breast cancer saves lives. Thankfully, my mom’s breast surgeon believed me and we got a second opinion. I had a simultaneous double mastectomy and reconstruction. Thank goodness they removed only my breasts: sense of humour and brain, largely, remain intact. I felt a pain unlike any other where pain killers couldn’t help. Now my toes curl each time a woman tells me how she understands the pain I had because when they had their boob job ‘It was sore!’ It is simple: an augmentation is not an amputation. Ever. The aesthetic they sought does not compare with hollowing out the flesh between my left and right sides of the front of my body. It has taken me six months to realize that. No wonder my body is in post-traumatic shock. Standing and sitting for long periods of time is getting better. I remember telling a friend about my relationship with the many versions of my breasts over my lifetime: new, small, sensitive, sexy, big, saggy, lumpy, how their shape changed feeding my beautiful children. There have been so many variations of my breasts that this was just to be another. ​ I am thankful to the team who conducted the surgery and the after pic below (scroll down) is of the 2.0s as I affectionately call them. They’re impressive. Bigger and higher than the first ones with minimal scarring and though I would rather have the originals (they felt so much better), I know they would have killed me. Hell no! Besides, the 2.0s have more fun! They dress sexier and more playfully. They do get more uncomfortable and need decent bras most of the time. They do get tired and need rest. They’re like those Japanese Kintsugi bowls: scarred, beautiful, useful, and above all else, mine. I am grateful. For it all. Know that early detection will save your life. I always knew that while some breast cancers are hereditary, mine wasn’t. Most don’t discriminate; every woman is a potential breast cancer survivor. I am on tamoxifen now; a drug designed to stop my body from absorbing oestrogen. Apparently some of the male bodybuilders take it to stop growing breasts as a side effect of steroids! Go figure! It has some interesting side effects. I get emotional and I know this when someone tells me a great story and I start tearing up. I get joint pain that makes me wince when I move and the irony is I have to move to help the joints. Running is hard and the before me loved running and was finishing half marathons every other weekend. The after me runs sporadically up to 5km. My first run post breast reconstruction was freaky: imagine running with shorts, with pockets in them, and a coke can in each one. ​ I openly chart my journey and have adored every comment and supportive gesture of support: eager post-surgery messages, the girlfriend who will buy me a bra next time I visit her town, the male friends who had to be the first to see the 2.0s straight or gay, a husband who walked nearly 20 miles with ‘tatas’ attached, hundreds of flowers, a protective breast cushion sewn by my sister in law, my dad who watched over me the month after surgery. Countless, beautiful expressions of love. I have learned to be gentle with myself. We moved from Johannesburg, SA to Boston USA recently and I have taken advantage of this tender-paced town I am in to relax. I am rediscovering my core. Pilates, gym, barre classes, massage, and acupuncture are attending to the physical core. Hanging out with my young people also helps as they’re uplifting and lovely. Hugging my children to my breasts still means the same thing: love, comfort, compassion and containment. I AM MORE RESILIENT THAN I COULD HAVE IMAGINED. Comedian Louis C.K. made a quip about 45 being either half way to a long healthy life or almost done. I know that life is surprisingly shorter than we expect. Unless you’re 104 in which case maybe not. I am humbled by the grace of the women around me. Courage is measured by diving into the thing you fear even though you fear it. I meet wonder women daily. We are accustomed, as women, to seeing many before and after photos. These are mine. To be honest I don’t see the difference either! Whether you’re reading this during Breast Cancer Awareness Month or not, do the regular checks and know your body.

By Roxy Hope Harrison I’ve been in remission for a little over a year. I had a rash/discoloration under my right breast and I showed it to my PCP, she said it’s probably just a heat rash but if I’m concerned I can get a mammogram done. I was only 37 so I wasn’t too worried and went for the mammogram, they called me 2 weeks later that they want to do another one so they can compare it to the first one, well, I did it they then told me on the spot that they want me to do an ultrasound. So I did an ultrasound. Then the breast surgeon came in and told me there are some images that she’s concerned about and she wants to do a biopsy. Long story short, the biopsy confirmed it stage 1 DCIS and DCIS IN SITU. The funny thing was, the cancer was on the left breast and the discoloration was under the right. To this day I still don’t know what that grayish discoloration was but if not for that they wouldn’t have caught it so early so that’s my miracle story! I had a double mastectomy, 6 rounds of chemo and now on a hormone blocker for 10 years. Now here’s the miracle of how they discovered the ovarian cancer. Right after my breast cancer diagnosis they suggested I do genetic testing. I tested BRCA 1 positive with a high chance of ovarian cancer. After chemo my oncologist said I should have a hysterectomy just to be on the safe side, well guess what, we did it for preventative reasons and they took everything out. There was a polyp on the cervix, pre-cancerous cells in the inner lining of the uterus and a tumor on the ovary. Had we not done the hysterectomy I might have needed more chemo so those are my miracles! Chemo turned my world upside down and I wasn’t one to give up. Although a few times during chemo I said I wanted to quit chemo, someone told me that quitting chemo would be like quitting life and I wasn’t ready to quit life. It was NOT easy by any means but I survived and came out on the other side victorious and can happily say that May 16, 2020 was one year I celebrated being cancer free. My memory was always bad but chemo messed it up more and now I have a 20 second memory capacity. It ruined my teeth completely. I had to have oral surgery to remove all top teeth because they were severely decayed. Within one year I had five surgeries, 3 of them breast cancer related. Not having reconstruction was a no brainer for me. I never liked my breasts and I never wanted them; they were big, I hated them. It’s sad that it took cancer to get rid of them but it was my silver lining. My silver lining for chemo was that my hair will grow back double and curly and I was so excited and looking forward to that. I always had very little hair. It started falling out when I was 16 (PCOS). I finished chemo April 10 2019. Only some of the hair grew back in the back a couple of inches but on top wasn't growing which was very frustrating. I can’t afford good human hair wigs. I tried Rogaine, castor oil and hair loss concealer but to no avail. Here is a poem I wrote about cancer: Cancer, in September of 2018 with a vengeance you reared your ugly face, You thought you can win this race. You came along and the wind out of me you tried to blow, But this tough lady was not going to lay low. You entered into my life, And wanted to cut me with a knife. Faith threatened to leave me, But it doesn’t know how strong I can be. Hope tried to dissuade me, But the light at the end of tunnel I could see. You attempted to take away my dignity, my sense of self and my health, But you can never take away who I am myself. The days ahead you wanted to steal, But no ways can you make me feel. You can’t take anything away from me, Because tougher than you I will always be. My life you thought you can take away, But I am here to show you that I am here to stay. Treatments were not easy or fun, But with everything I had in me I held on. I cried many a night, But I was positive I will never give up this fight. Even though many days I felt blue, I will not let cancer tell me what to do. Cancer was not going to kill me on my time, I knew I would be just fine. I will come out more resilient on the other side, So I rode along with the tide. Cancer's ass I will kick, And to my faith I will stick. Cancer, this warrior you will not kill, I am alive and kicking still. Above me you did hover, But I will never let you win me over. You are never going to tell me what to do, That I am bigger than you I definitely knew. I will show you who is the boss, Trying to take me away is your loss. Now that I’m a survivor I can proudly say, Out my door you shall forever stay! Read More Diagnosed with DCIS After a Clear Mammogram

By Kerry Kelly Instagram: @kerry_ann_kelly The loss of my hair was an extremely challenging part of my breast cancer journey. I had a thick head of beautiful brown hair that was down to my mid-back. I wasn’t even 7 months postpartum when I was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer at 29 years old. Knowing that I would lose my hair was just another emotional stake to my heart during my treatment. Though the entire process was difficult, there were a few things I did that I believe lightened the blow of losing my hair. 1. Take control. Unfortunately, the hair will fall out. I took control of this fact and did it all on my own terms. I chopped my hair in my own time, donated it, and shaved my head before I experienced much fallout. I took control of the experience and shaped it into something I was doing, rather than something that was happening to me. This gave me a sense of power that helped my mental state as I traveled through the unknown waters of cancer treatment. 2. Donate. I have always had extremely long hair. I cut it “short” after my wedding (cut 4 inches off), but grew it back right away. When I found out I would be losing my hair due to chemo, I knew I needed to donate it. I researched to find a nonprofit that I would donate to and printed the requirements for my appointment. I donated over 12 inches of my beautiful hair, and I imagine that it made someone happy. I was so emotional when I received my certificate of donation, but knew that my pain would be someone else’s joy. 3. Do something you would never normally do. I knew I wanted to cut my hair short to lighten the blow of it falling out entirely. I wanted a haircut to make me feel like the warrior I would need to be to get through treatment. My hairstylist gave me a spunky short cut with the back and left side shaved. The side shaved was something that was a cool style that I would have NEVER done normally. This gave me the unique opportunity to try something new (for a few weeks anyways). I got a ton of compliments on it, and really enjoyed experimenting with a different look. 4. Call on your support system. When I told my hairstylist about my diagnosis and asked her to cut my hair for donation, we both knew it would be an emotional cut. As I entered the salon, I held back tears. We laughed as we planned out my spunky new cut. When the time came, we both cried. This was a moment of pain, but also a moment of beauty as two people bonded over a painful experience. When the time came to shave my head, my husband was the one for the job. He pulled out a chair, the buzzer, and a Pacifico. He went first, and I could barely see through my tears to buzz his head. Somehow, buzzing his head too made me feel better in the moment. As my turn came, he whispered sweet words to me. He talked to me about the next 30 years of our lives and how excited he was to live it with me. I cried through the entire thing, but was so appreciative of his kindness. Through the pain, a spotlight was set on the overwhelming amount of love that I have in my life, and how incredibly lucky I really am. 5. Be prepared with a wig or hat that you’re comfortable in Before my hair loss, I was terrified of the idea of being without hair. I had a wig fitting before beginning chemo so I could have the wig as soon as my hair fell out. This gave me peace of mind that I had a backup. I dyed and styled the wig to look like my hair. I also bought several caps and beanies since it was winter and I knew my head would be cold. My experience with the wig was complicated. I wore it 4-5 times, and felt like I was being untrue to myself when I had it on. Due to the timing, the world was stuck inside due to COVID-19, so I did not have the social pressure to be seen in public during this time. I was much more comfortable in my soft beanies and thin slouchy hats. After the fact, I realize that the wig was an emotional crutch for me. I needed it because I felt safety around having a backup. That safety feeling helped me emotionally cope with other decisions that were being made around my treatment. Though the hair loss was just one aspect of loss that I experienced during my treatment, it was an emotional hurdle for me. There is no right or wrong way to go about it, so I did my best to take control of the things I could control and let go of the things I couldn’t. Each part of treatment presented new challenges, so I kept fighting. My hair has grown back to the point that I no longer need a hat. After getting through treatment, I have transformed into someone who is not defined by her hair. I am so much stronger and more courageous than the woman I was last year, and I choose to see the beauty in that.

By Liz Benditt Title, “The Finish Line is the Starting Line” I like to think of myself as a medical miracle. I survived four cancers over 8 years: 2009: Melanoma Skin Cancer 2010: Thyroid Cancer 2015: Basal Cell Skin Cancer 2017: Breast Cancer By necessity, my approach to treating myself and my illnesses have changed over time. After experiencing VERY RARE side effects from thyroid surgery, I stopped automatically following ‘standard treatment’ protocols and took back control of my care and recovery process. I found that when I contributed to my treatment plans, I was better prepared for the inevitable side effects. Although the melanoma was by far my most potentially lethal cancer, and the facial plastic surgeries for basal cell were incredibly painful, the breast cancer experience and treatment were the absolute worst. Perhaps I was overconfident about my youth and ability to fight it / overcome it, or it’s possible my fair skin was destined to react badly to radiation – it’s impossible to know. Regardless, despite thinking I would knock out radiation and be able to continue working full time, leading girl scout troop meetings, and running half-marathons my body failed me and I was flabbergasted by my situation. There were two concurrent issues: 1. It was incredibly difficult to predict what tools I would need to go through and recover from radiation until I was in the middle of it, scrambling for bra-alternatives, aluminum-free deodorant, and burn salves. A nurse made me a mini-pillow to hold between my seatbelt and breast so that the belt wouldn't chafe. There was no central resource, website, or retailer known for all this 'stuff' and I found myself up late at night researching page 20 searches on google and amazon looking for solutions. Most of the cancer-treatments and gifts online were pink ribbon cute/sassy t-shirts and mugs – I wanted relief not stuff . 2. Friends and neighbors all want to DO something ... and they predominantly bring food/cook. It's very nice and appreciated, but honestly my husband and son are super picky eaters and would have preferred takeout. I wasn't able to exercise and would have preferred lighter / lower calorie fare. It was honestly frustrating because it was all so WELL MEANING but in reality, not awesome to receive. I chose this featured image for so many reasons – it was taken at my “Finish Line” party, thrown by my girlfriends after I completed breast cancer treatments. It was a magical night, filled with cocktails and cake and laughter. The evening was made even more special by friends who flew into Kansas City from New York and Los Angeles to attend. In addition to my incredible family, I had – still have – an incredible support network of amazing women who are so smart, kind, hilarious, thoughtful, and FUN. They know when to bring the wine and when to enforce tough love. The “Finish Line” party was where the seed for www.TheBalmBox.com started – a site featuring functional self-care and gift items for breast cancer patients. Maybe there is some crazy kismet in the universe; the past ten years of cancer treatments leading me to go from “cancer patient” to “Cancer-preneur”. I certainly hope so. Sometimes the finish line is actually the starting line. Contact Info: Liz Benditt LBenditt@TheBalmBox.com @BalmboxIG

By Tina Conrad H.O.P.E. My introduction to breast cancer started right around 9/11. I was 25, working in corporate America and watched as my whole world seemed to crumble around me. My mom called me the end of that month to tell me that she was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 46. That call destroyed the world inside of me. I knew I had to be strong for my mom, hold it together for her. I was a cheerleader to my mom, sending flower and cheer, attending as much as possible. I always wanted my mom to know that she was beautiful, she was strong and she was the best mom ever. I wanted my mom to have hope. At the end of her treatments, we celebrated with a good-bye cancer party with close friends and family. It felt like the end of the story. Unfortunately, the story was not finished. My mom had a recurrence three years later, learned she was TNBC and received different treatments this time. She lost her hair again and it was really difficult to find the hope. I was angry. I was so mad at God for doing this to our family, not once but twice. I couldn’t understand why this was happening. Years passed and breast cancer grew more distant in the rear view mirror, but we didn’t throw any parties this time. We slowly let out our breath and tiptoed into the future. Ten years later, I noticed a change in my breast. I was 37. I was recently promoted, recently married and very very busy in the whirlwind of life. My mom had always found a lump. But, I saw the center of my breast pulling in. I told myself it was old age. Even with my mom’s diagnosis, and 2 baseline mammos, I did everything to tell myself I was ok. I felt healthy, I was a runner, but there was that little voice quietly nudging me to get it checked out. I’m sure you all know the drill, something seems off, so a talk with a doctor that leads to a mammogram, that leads to another mammogram, which leads to an ultrasound, which leads to a biopsy, and ultimately the call that stops you in your tracks. YOU HAVE CANCER! Actually, I woke up from my biopsy a few days prior, with the anesthesia slowly wearing off to my doctor telling me to get my mom’s records. My surgeon knew something didn’t look right. The biopsy was more like a lumpectomy and it was suspicious. My mom handled my diagnosis the hardest. My mom was a 7 ½ hour car drive away at this point in my life and it was not easy to be that far away. My mom felt like it was her fault. My mom understood exactly what I was feeling and going through. From my first visit to the oncology office with all the zombie patients, I ran to my car and called my mom sobbing. To my first chemo cocktail of the all knowing Red Devil that made me throw up hours after chemo, just like my mom had experienced. Our parallel journeys. I knew I had a unique experience that I wanted to share. I had always had my mom, and my mom had always had me as a cheerleader, friend and advocate for the journey, but how were women out there finding out they had breast cancer going through this alone? I wanted to share my story and encourage others to share their stories to help make the world a little brighter and inspire hope. My podcast DJ Breast Cancer was my passion project, spurred into action after I found out a dear friend and support group friend, Sandy Clausen, had died from a metastatic recurrence. It was not enough to just have this idea, I had to put it into action! My mom is now my biggest cheerleader. She carries my business cards for my podcast in her pocket and hands them out to anyone wearing pink, talking about breast cancer at the insurance agency, or her softball teammates in Florida. We are blessed, and we know that we are lucky. Every birthday is truly a celebration of being here another year. Just like You I am a version of you Through and through You are beautiful, broken I can feel your words unspoken I called you crying No words, afraid of dying You listened and told me you knew Exactly what I’m going through You can be my light In the darkness shining bright And I will be there When you have no hair This may be our cross But it’s not our loss You are my cheerleader And I will be yours

By Liz Mover I am an ICU nurse who has been caring directly for critically ill COVID patients since March. I have been a nurse for over 15 years but this pandemic is nothing like anything else I have seen before. When I heard the vaccine would be available, at first I was nervous. I didn’t know much about it and like anything else new, I was unsure. I did a lot of research and ultimately was excited to receive it! My first vaccine (Pfizer) went smoothly and felt great despite arm soreness for 2 days afterwards. Twenty one days later I received the second part of the vaccine. About 18 hours afterwards I began to feel achy and progressively felt worse throughout the day. I was febrile to 102.2, chills, muscle aches, and headaches for about a day. Lots of sleep, Ibuprofen, and staying hydrated helped. My body reacted to the vaccine and was forming antibodies to keep me safe from COVID! Due to the high fevers, I was required to get tested for COVID and thankfully was negative! The vaccine provides me with some hope that this pandemic will end eventually and healthcare workers can get some rest and begin to heal physically and emotionally from the incredible challenges we have experienced over the past 10 months.

MEN HAVE BREAST CANCER TOO! By Michael Singer My journey began back in December 2010. You see I walked into a doctor’s office as a 50 year old male with no major illness and walked out a Breast Cancer patient. My journey takes me from first being embarrassed to now being empowered. From first being silent to now being outspoken. Now I advocate daily for Male breast cancer Awareness. I am the voice for men who can no longer speak and for the ones still embarrassed to speak. I was seeing my General Practitioner Dr. Joseph Bonanno for a general fitness evaluation for work. During the examination I mentioned to the doctor that I had felt a cyst under my left nipple. The doctor felt it and referred me to a local surgeon for a needle biopsy as this raised a red flag with him. I had been ignoring this cyst which was causing me discomfort over the past several months but never mentioned it because I had just figured it was a fatty cyst similar to one I had removed several years earlier with no complications. I made the appointment with the surgeon and brought my wife with me because anything with the word needle in it is not going to feel good and she provides me strength. The surgeons name is Anibal Puente and he is located in the Bronx. Upon entering his exam room I started to feel very apprehensive as I have to admit I do not favor needles. Dr. Puente proceeded with the needle biopsy which I have to say was one of the most uncomfortable procedure’s I had experienced and would have appreciated to have been knocked out. Needless to say I cursed a lot and sweated through the paper sheet on the exam table. The doctor could not get enough fluid through the needle biopsy and scheduled me for a surgical biopsy the following day 12-7-10 at Westchester Square Hospital in the Bronx. I remember waking up in the recovery room shortly after the procedure and still groggy the doctor came in to see me and stated he did not like what he saw and I then fell back asleep with the help of the attending nurse giving me a pain shot. I told this to my wife that night but still never thought in the direction of cancer of any type. On December 16th I went back to the doctor’s office with my wife to get the results of my biopsy. My surgeon was still in surgery that day and I met with his associate Dr. Reynolds who stepped out to get my file and was the surgeon that removed my cyst 8 years prior. When he came back into the room his demeanor was much different than when he left to get the file. It was at this moment that Dr. Reynolds informed me that they removed 2.2cm tumor that was positive for cancer and that I have Breast Cancer. The diagnosis was Invasive Ductal Carcinoma and Ductal Carcinoma in Situ. I was floored and did not understand as I had never heard of men getting breast cancer. My wife was already in tears and I asked her what he is telling me. She looked me in the eyes and said he’s telling you that you have Stage Two breast cancer. Still in shock the doctor said he would take care of this and the surgery had to be done right away. I was scheduled for surgery 12-21 four days later. My wife and I went home and tried to research male breast cancer on line and couldn’t find any comprehensive information other than it would be treated like a woman’s surgery and I would be receiving a Mastectomy of my left breast. Many feelings and thoughts had run through my mind that day and the following days looking to put my affairs in order as I had just lost my sister to a horrible death from breast cancer and its metastasis to other organs the previous year and thought the worst for myself. I have to say that my wife Patty provided me with as much love and support as humanly possible and if it wasn’t for her this whole journey would have been unbearable. I geared up for surgery on December 21st and was in decent spirits hoping I would be knocked out and wake up minus one nipple. It was at this point in the hospital that they informed me they were going to do Lymphatic Mapping first with a series of six injections around my left nipple! What shoot me now? Six needles! Where are my drugs? This made the nipple biopsy a walk in the park. It was then they finally wheeled me up to surgery. Finally I met the Anesthesiologist and I begged him to give me something as my anxiety was over the moon. After the surgeon came to visit me and introduced me to the assisting surgeon he assured me things were going to be fine. The last thing I remember was sliding into position on the operating table. I woke up in recovery bandaged like the Mummy and in pain. The surgeon came in and stated everything went well and that they had tested my Sentinel Node and non-Sentinel node and they were negative for metastasis. The next day I went home with 23 staples and two drainage bottles hanging from my chest minus my left breast, just in time for Christmas and New Year’s. My Surgeon felt I would not need to have Radiation or Chemotherapy but to confer with my Oncologist. I met with my Oncologist Dr. Fuchs also in the Bronx shortly after recovery and he scheduled me for a full body PET scan at University Diagnostics. Everything came back negative and I did not have to receive chemo or radiation. I also had a BRCA test done and I was negative. I am currently on Tamoxifen which is what they prescribe to women and I have to say it is not a pleasant drug for men and it has several undesirable side effects but I want to increase my life expectancy and this is what the medical field has to offer. I am ten years cancer free and continue to go for blood work and mammograms of my remaining breast. I have been honored to meet many fellow male breast cancer survivors and their families through organizations like the Male Breast Cancer Coalition, Breast Cancer Brothers.org and Bret Millers 1T foundation. I have had opportunities to participate in several events to raise awareness and will continue to advocate for awareness that men can get breast cancer too. Men need to have a conversation with their medical providers which will help promote awareness and possibly save someone’s life. The ultimate goal is to spread the word that men can get Breast Cancer too, that men should check themselves routinely as early detection is a key to surviving this horrible disease. Michael's accomplishments: 3rd week of October as Male Breast cancer awareness week Department of Defense Peer reviews (DOD) 2X Project lead graduate (NBCC) American cancer Society, Real men Wear Pink, Making strides against Breast cancer Ford Motor Company Model of courage warrior in Pink BCRF Campaign Cancer Divides we unite and Instagram takeover Rode with Governor Cuomo and Sandra Lee for the campaign Get Screened No Excuses Exhibitor at San Antonio Breast Cancer Symposium March on Washington DC and Held a Die In Increase in NIH 2 billion dollars for cancer research, right to try Bill, Wave waiting period for Social security disability for metastatic patients Work with organizations such as Cancerland, Metavivor, MetUp, MBC Alliance, TuTu Project Grace project Tops Off photo shoot with MBCC Times Like these Bill Becker and Bob Devito story News 12 stories, Daily News, Bronx Times reporter, GQ CBS News on Line People Magazine on line Featured on My Survival story from Switzerland Wisdo Video series Head Line News Katie Couric show with Bret Miller Richard Roundtree and Doctor Hudis Hallmark Channel Home Show

By Patricia Washburn My husband, Marlyn Washburn, was like so many other men in that he did not know men could get breast cancer. In December of 2016, however, he was diagnosed with Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer. At the time of his diagnosis, his breast cancer had already metastasized into his liver, lungs, lymph nodes, bones, and brain. Surgery was not an option due to the extensive spread throughout his body, however he did attempt radiation and chemotherapy. Both were minimally successful. He took his last breath on May 26, 2017. Marlyn had been an educator for 41 years. At the time of his death, I decided it was my turn to step up to the plate to educate others in the matter of male breast cancer. I took his car and had it wrapped with my message. The sides of the car proclaim, “Breast Cancer Does NOT Discriminate…MEN TOO”. The hood of the car sports a photo of Marlyn taken on Christmas at the time he was first diagnosed. It makes an impact when I tell people just five months later, he was dead. This car is my “moving billboard” in honor of Marlyn and in support of the many men with breast cancer. After having the car wrapped, I contacted several television stations, radio stations, and newspapers in the communities where we had lived and where people knew Marlyn. Most agreed to interview me and share the story of male breast cancer. I have become a Lead Advocate with the Male Breast Cancer Coalition (MBCC). We strive to advocate for our men and to educate everyone we meet. Every person has breast tissue, therefore EVERYONE is susceptible to getting breast cancer. Do not confuse this with chest cancer. They are totally different cancers. Breast cancer can only be diagnosed through a biopsy and begins within the breast tissue. It is important to know that breast cancer does not discriminate by gender, age or race. Since my husband’s death I have been traveling the United States spreading the message of male breast cancer. I also share signs and symptoms with those I meet. In my travels I have met personally with many of our MBCC “brothers”. It is important they, and their families, know they are not walking this journey alone. We are all family, and we all pull together for each other. In 2019 I was pulled over by a South Carolina State Trooper. The ONLY purpose of the stop was to ask me about male breast cancer. I had passed him on the Interstate, and he read the side of my car. That is what I hope for with my car. If I can educate just one person and save him the heartache my husband and our family went through because of breast cancer, all the time and energy I have spent will be worth it. Breast cancer is not all “pink”. MEN, TOO!

By Aubrey Glencamp In Feb 2016, my wife discovered a lump on my left breast. I made an appointment with my primary doctor within the same week. After taking a look, my doctor just thought it was some fatty tissue, but nothing to worry about since I was losing weight at the time. I continued my life without thinking much of it, but it was always in the back of my mind. I received a call from the Woman's Health Center that they received a referral for me and wanted to schedule me for a mammogram. After going to the center, you could tell I stuck out like a sore thumb. When they called me back for my appointment, I was placed in the hallway to wait for the technician. I was pressed, pulled, and positioned into the machines for testing. My results came back with some concerns. My biopsy was scheduled a few days later. However, during this time, I was in the middle of a fitness boot camp and was the front runner in the competition for the most weight loss. Since I was so close to the end of the fitness boot camp, I requested to move my appointment out a week since it would restrict me from working out. I ended up winning the boot camp that week and went for my biopsy the next week. I received a call two days later that I was officially diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer. Receiving the call was life-changing. This diagnosis was not my first major event since I had open-heart surgery when I was 19 to remove a tumor around my heart, but this was new for sure. I sat in my car wondering how I would not tell my family the news. I was the first person in my family to be diagnosed with Breast Cancer and a male. That's right men get Breast Cancer too. I met with my Surgeon and Oncologist to plan out my treatments since I was also Her2+, which is an aggressive form of the disease. My surgery was scheduled before chemotherapy and potentially radiation. The Doctors said if we wanted children, I should visit a fertility clinic before surgery since chemo could make me sterile. My schedule was full between my appointments, work, races, etc. I was unable to get to a fertility clinic before my surgery. Two days before my surgery, by the grace of God, we found out she was pregnant. I l was determined to get through treatment to prepare to be a Father. I had my surgery and completed five rounds of chemo before my daughter made her debut. I was so excited to ring the bell after my last chemo appointment. Two weeks after my treatment, my daughter was born. I had only heard of Richard Roundtree being diagnosed with Breast Cancer but did not hear much about other guys. I take every opportunity to make sure I share my story because you never know who it may save. Since my diagnosis, I have shared my story with thousands of people through radio and podcast interviews like BBC networks, fashion shows, organizations, colleges, national magazines like Woman's Health Magazine, and many other social and digital platforms around the world. I want other men out there to get beyond the stigma of having Breast Cancer. Since men also have breast tissue, we can get it as well. I have continued to work with organizations like the American Cancer Society and a Lead Advocate for the Male Breast Cancer Coalition (MBCC) to continue to spread awareness for the disease. I live in GA with his wife and four-year-old daughter. In my spare time, I love to hike and play in the mud. You could usually find me running obstacle races on the weekend with his crew. I also love spending time with my daughter and working on her YouTube channel.

By Rifka Coleman Hello beautiful overcomer! My name is Rifka and I am fighting cancer during a pandemic. My diagnosis came as a shock. I was 37 and overall healthy and active. I am a busy mom with 7 children (yes you read that right!), working full-time, and this was nowhere on my radar. No family history and I am too young….right?!? One morning, like normal, I was taking a shower, and something felt off. My doctor was able to get me in the same day and I was able to go from finding a lump to a diagnosis is just a week. Talk about a whirlwind. I was diagnosed on February 25th 2020 with triple negative breast cancer. This type of cancer is rare and aggressive so the treatment would have to be aggressive, too. I started with 16 rounds of chemotherapy, in March, using 4 different medications. That was a grueling 20 weeks. I had a partial mastectomy in September which removed the remainder of the tumor. Once I was healed enough, I started 6 weeks of daily radiation. I was so thankful to be done with this treatment just in time for Thanksgiving. I was supposed to start my next treatment in December, but I got COVID-19 for the Chanukah. I had to undergo 5 COVID-19 tests over 21 days to get my 2 negative tests, which my Oncologist requested, prior to getting the greenlight to start oral chemo. After a month delay, I was able to start my first cycle of Xeloda, an oral chemotherapy, which is used in some Triple negative patients that still have residual tumor after surgery per the pathology. This regime is 8 cycles total; the medication is in pill form and I take it 2 times a day for 14 days, then I have 7 days to recover. I will be on this treatment until July. My hope is that after the 8 cycles are completed, so will be my active treatment and I will be able to be in maintenance mode for life. Nothing truly prepares you for the effects that cancer has on you, your body, caregivers, friends and even co-workers. As much research, googling, and chatting with survivors, which I did the month before treatment started, I still was not prepared. Let me tell you what helped me cope and deal with the repercussion’s cancer has on your entire world. From one cancer patient to another – control your controlables. We cannot control that we have cancer, what medications or chemos we may need, or even the side effects they may cause. However, we can control our reactions. We can control our mindsets, what we eat and our motivations. We cannot control the sunshine or the rain, but we can control the weather of our mind. What does this mean to me? This means I choose not to dwell in the anger, sadness, or fear that comes with this diagnosis. Sure, I had/have all those emotions (and more), especially with the initial shock. I process them though, not suppress them. I ask myself questions, like why am I feeling this way? I try to get to the root of it. With this activity I start to feel more clarity about my feelings. With clarity comes relief. Your feelings, whatever they may be are valid. You have every right to feel anything you want or need to feel. I tell my friends who may be experiencing a hard trial in their life, feel free to visit the dark place, its easy for depressive thoughts to creep in (adulting is hard), but you cannot live there. Treat each day as a new gift. It is called the present after all. Embrace the everyday moments. Before cancer, cooking dinner for my large family felt like a chore. Now, the days I feel well enough to do it, I rejoice. I do not have to cook dinner, my husband does a fine job of that, but I get to cook them dinner. Take out is great, but I get joy feeding my family’s belly, while feeding their minds at the table. Friend, whatever you are going right now, its temporary. Grab hold to your mindset and know that you are the keeper of your joy, no one else. The choice to keep it is yours.