By Gloria Exactly a year ago – August 31, 2020; I was given a diagnosis of Invasive Lobular Breast Cancer .... The Diagnosis This diagnosis rocked my Spirit to the core. My partner, who had come with me to my dermatologist appointment to get my stitches removed from my surgical biopsy, gently held me in the parking lot and we both cried. My General Practitioner (GP) called me within 15 minutes of my receiving this news. She immediately booked an appointment for the next day to get my pap smear test done, referral to get another mammogram done (even though I had a mammogram approximately a year earlier that showed nothing), and a referral to a surgeon. Lump in Arm I had found this pinhead lump in my underarm (which I have now come to understand is the tail end of the breast) back in 2018, and I had shown it to my GP who sent me to get an ultrasound done. We both thought it was a cyst and so we agreed to monitor it after the ultrasound came back clear. The following year my mammogram, showed nothing either. The Start 2019 was a year of many challenges – it started with a swollen right knee that was initially diagnosed as a Baker’s Cyst. Being unable to walk on it for a couple months allowed me to research the causes of a Baker’s Cyst and so I chose to change my diet and eliminate the foods that causes inflammation. In July 2019, my 94 year old Dad who I looked after for 12 years after he suffered a stroke passed. Around the same time my mammogram was due. It showed nothing. In August 2019, I found out I had a full macular hole in my right eye. I underwent a vitrectomy surgery to repair my macular hole and replace the lens in that eye on October 1, 2019. Anyone who has been through this surgery knows that you have to lie face down for a week 24 hours a day, if possible. It was great news when I found out I could read again in that eye – the tears of release and gratitude flowed . Fast forward, toward the end of February 2020, I started with headaches around the temple of my operated eye. A call to my ophthalmologist had me go to my optometrist to check the blood pressure, etc. behind the operated eye. The reason I share this is so that you can understand the full sequence of events . There was no problem with my operated eye, but the temple headaches continued over 3 days straight. So, I contacted my GP who saw me and was concerned that it could be Giant Cell Arteritis – so she prescribed a small dosage of prednisone and ordered blood work. The next day, we got the results of my blood work that showed high inflammation levels – so she again increased the prednisone. In the meantime, she had discussions with a rheumatologist and vascular specialist and ordered a temporal artery biopsy. This is the only way that they can eliminate that it wasn’t giant cell arteritis. Thankful and grateful that it wasn’t!!! My Whole World Changed Now, March 2020 and COVID 19 global pandemic is announced. I did notice that the so-called “cyst” had grown and the consistency was different . So, I booked an appointment with my GP when possible around June 2020. She immediately sent me to the dermatologist to have it removed. That is when my whole world changed – the dermatologist explained to me that an ultrasound is not a definitive tool, plus it was since December 2018. He shared with me that he can tell from the biopsy if it is a cyst and if it is he had prepped the area to remove it but if it wasn’t he would do a surgical biopsy. That was August 16, 2020, and 2 weeks later, I had an appointment to get the stitches removed, and that’s when I got the diagnosis of ILC (Invasive Lobular Carcinoma). The Tests Ultrasounds and mammograms on August 31, 2020 still did not show any inconsistencies or abnormalities . My pap smear came back negative. So all good in that respect. The surgeon's first visit occurred that week also and a number of tests were orders – CT Scan with contrast of chest, abdomen, and pelvis; Breast MRI and Radioactive Tracer full body bone scan . These tests would provide further results as to what the surgery and treatment plan would look like. So, for the next couple weeks I underwent these various tests.... all use very toxic chemicals so they had to be staggered to ensure that the chemicals were no longer in my system. The Surgery Great news considering everything – it was a single tumor and so surgery was scheduled for September 29, 2020 at 8am EST for a lumpectomy. I knew that all will be well since 8 is the sign of infinity, and September 29 was one of my dear brother’s birthday’s who had transitioned 7 years earlier. My surgeon and I had agreed that if the sentinel nodes were clear that she would only do 1 auxiliary lymph node dissection . Surgery was successful – nothing in the safe margins of the lumpectomy, nothing in the lymph nodes (sentinel nor auxiliary) and so next treatment post healing of the surgical area was radiation. Active and Informed During this entire time – from August 31, 2020 to October 30, 2020 – I did as much research as was possible. I chose to be an active informed participant in my health and wellbeing – so I researched Mayo Clinic and Breast Cancer.org around ILC. In addition, I registered with Wellspring, Ontario, Canada, a non-profit organization that provides numerous services and programs for any Canadian Cancer Patient and their main caregiver. I initially registered for both Reiki and Therapeutic Touch (TT). Being a trained Reiki Master – I was open to receiving energy healing and I had had 1 TT treatment when my Dad was in Hospice back in July 2019 – and I remembered how calming and peaceful it felt after the treatment. Therapeutic Touch Treatments I continued to have TT treatments remotely by a retired nurse who I called my Earth Angel.... before each test, day before surgery, during surgery, day after surgery, and each day after my 10 radiation treatments. TT is so healing that it is now taught based on it’s evidence-based research at a number of teaching hospitals for nurses and doctors. I believe in my heart of hearts that it is due to TT that I didn’t require any pain meds at all post surgery and other having to have a table tennis ball aspirated 2 weeks post surgery no other additional interventions were required. Remember – the tumor and all the lymph nodes that were removed and dissected were all in the same area in the underarm – a 4.5in incision. I opted, after my research, to do the Accelerated Radiation Treatment Plan – I read all the papers available at the time on this – The Lancet, Breast Cancer.org, and Yale before making an informed choice. I'm so happy and thankful this was an available choice!!! For anyone who isn’t aware of it – please check with your radiation oncologist and have the discussion if it is a possible treatment plan for you. Again, I contribute no broken skin in the radiated area to TT which I had each and every day after radiation remotely by my Earth Angel!!! Treatment Plan and Side Effects The next step in my treatment plan was an AI (Aromatase Inhibitor) since the pathology of the tumor indicated that it was ER/PR+, HER2 -, Stage 2, Grade 1 (less than 10% of cells were abnormal), and my ONCO Score was 11. Being a 63 soon to be 64 post menopausal woman at the time, I would have had to have an ONCO Score of 26+ for chemo to be even suggested/recommended. Another thankful moment in the journey!!! I was able to complete my radiation on December 4, 2020 and commence the AI (in my case Letrozole was prescribed) on December 12, 2020. Unfortunately, I experienced all the 3 most severe side effects possible from this AI. Night sweats, hot flashes, and joint pain and stiffness in my fingers – to the point it disrupted my sleep in the wee hours of the morning – the REM sleep time 2am-6am. My MO suggested after the first month to take it in the morning versus night – the side effects continued without a break.... After 2 months, my MO suggested taking a break and once the side effects subsided that he will start me on another AI – Exemastane. Unfortunately, the side effects continued like clock-work for 6 months even after stopping the AI. In those 6 months, I went back and reviewed all my reports from my various tests to again make another informed decision – and since my CT Scan had shown a NAFLD (Non- alcoholic fatty liver disease) I decided to do some research on this . Thankful and grateful that with the right diet and exercise this is the one organ that can rejuvenate itself but it takes approximately 3 years. Internal Guidance I have made an informed decision to not take any AI since an AI for 5 years with debilitating side effects would then require me to have possibly every 6 months bone injections for 3 years and that also has it own set of side effects. As I meditated daily and asked Great Spirit what was best for me – I kept getting the same intuitive knowingness – I don’t need an AI. BTW – my onco score also showed that even taking an AI for 5 years it will only probably result in improving a possible recurrence from 1 in 10 (which is the national average of breast cancer) to 1 in 33. My internal guidance was shouting no to me – so I chose to follow my internal guidance and instead focus on myself as a whole being!!! Living in Gratitude I live each day in gratitude as I walk the journey of my life in daily meditation, journaling, putting healthy boundaries, eating healthy foods, and daily walks in nature while chanting . I'm very grateful for Alistair Cunningham who was guided to write the book entitled “A Healing Journey” and all the workbooks that go with all the various modules and run by Wellspring Canada!!! I have made changes in all areas of my life – physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual and work on all of them daily. I am currently completing the Healing Journey 5 module and registered for both Healing Journey 6A and 6B to commence mid September 2021. I have also felt guided to complete TT Level 3 so I can volunteer with the following organizations – Wellington Hospice Guelph, Groves Memorial Hospital (where I already volunteer on the Board of the Volunteer Association and has been for the last 2 years), and Wellspring Canada!!! Living my best life possible every day as I seek and act on the internal guidance given to me by Great Spirit/God/Divine Matrix – call it what you will!!! Thank you for sharing your story, Gloria. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Affirmations & Meditations Guide Nutrition Guide Breast Cancer & Journaling Free Virtual Movement Classes Online Support Groups

By Liz Cooper, NC native currently living in Chattanooga, TN and breast cancer survivor since January, 1998 Rising to face another day, I stare at my face in the mirror and begin to pray, Father I stretch my hand to Thee, my Helper and Provider today help me to stand, renew my strength and take all my tears away. Mirror, mirror before you I stand, facing a reflection of a new “ME” Changed on the outside and transformed on the inside, I never knew this would be. I recall the look on my doctor’s face as sad and somber on that winter’s day It seemed for a moment the words he spoke took my breath away. “ I regret to inform you, you have CANCER,” the words echoed in my mind I lay speechless, unwilling and unable to move, suddenly frozen in time. At first filled with disbelief, thinking surely there must be some mistake My mind was ill at ease, nervously aware this would be more than I could take. Fear and doubt reared their ugly heads, What does it mean? What can I do? I felt my Heavenly Father place His hand in mine and say “I will be with you.” Words of comfort, whispered ever so softly in my ear, Words I needed to hear and with those words instinctively I dried my tears. God ‘s word says “ Lean not to your own understanding ” “ Believe and trust in me ” The greater the problem—the closer He will be. I began to pray and meditate upon His word, With faith comes healing -- I knew my prayers would be heard. The Holy Spirit had begun His work and I began to understand, There is a time and purpose God has prescribed for every man. I was assured I would be healed and bear witness of His love I knew my deliverance would come from above. By the blood of Jesus and by His stripes I am healed, Even more, I have learned to surrender and accept His will. Like the woman with the issue of blood, she kept the faith, she never gave up. I kneeled before the Lord as I drank from that bitter cup. This earthly affliction may have caused me pain With Jesus as my Peace and Comforter, my life will be renewed again. Lord, you knew me, even as I was formed in my mother’s womb, And by your mercies, oh God, I will proclaim your goodness to my earthly tomb. This temporary trial will always be my testimony, this was a test of my faith, Lord you see inside me, with just one touch I am healed and my sins are erased. I could have been dead and gone down in my grave Lord you healed me, you saved me and made death behave. Standing before this mirror staring at a reflection of what human eyes can see, Realizing these eyes are blind to the new life that you have created in me. My Bible tells me “they that wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength,” Jesus I am filled with thanksgiving to You for saving me from what might have been. You took away my sickness and You removed my disease, I have a new walk, a new talk, a new life and my mind is at ease. Old things are passed away, everything has become new, Thank you, thank you, thank you Jesus, I owe it all to you! Now as I stand facing the mirror I see God looking down with love and grace, And I humbly walk away with an uplifted spirit and a smile on my face. This journey has taught me well that no matter what I may go through, God cares, will never leave me and will always bring me through.

By Ilene Kaminsky Live quietly with your questions. Sit still for a spell, just for now, put yesterday away with well-deserved tenderness. Nurture these moments, like newborns, feed and swaddle them. Rock them in the sweet rhythm of their slumbering breath. In this, the only moment Ever to become infinity’s reply to the direction of your green green path, a path with new ways to go — some trodden upon, some unknown. You think of “Nothing” much like that infant you carefully once loved. Why rush to grow? Time grows long regardless of your prodding for politeness or for prodigy. For they, in minutes of stillness will grow into our hours. The answers reveal themselves only when you’ve Forgotten to ask “why?” These questions over the course of life become like gems beaded onto a necklace, weighing you — Bowing you down In prayer or in repentance. Break its clasp And relinquish all the heaviness to the ground. Lift your head up and open your mouth. Catch the blessed rain on your tongue. What’s keeping you silent as your Lungs feed on the breath of freedom? Cut the stones weight from round Your neck. Breathe in time with your child who holds no answers. Not even the coolness of this second is hindered by what should be and will never be again. The answers you came here to gather when you were still innocent, in your open hands to grab secretly Like flowers from Neighboring garden whose labors were never yours to own.

By Kate I was diagnosed with stage 3 ER positive breast cancer in January 2018, when I was 47. It was aggressive and fast moving, so I had 4 AC chemo infusions, followed by 12 weekly infusions of Paclitaxel first. I then had a double mastectomy, lymph node removal, and reconstruction. I am on an AI and have regular Zoladex injections. Just about to be given another injection, as my bones are suffering. Have lymphedema in affected arm and breast - constant cellulitis infections so then on antibiotics for two years. My breast cancer could not be detected until it had spread to my lymph nodes. The mammogram couldn't find it, as it was so small, but was picked up luckily by ultrasound. I live in London, have three kids- 23, 21, and nearly 19, and two dogs. I feel so blessed to have such a lovely support group around me, but it would be nice to have more friends who have been through the same thing and understand. I find the regular checkups so stressful, and I am terrified it will come back. I am going to join your Thursday night chats. Thank you for sharing your story, Kate. SBC loves you, and we are excited to have you in Thursday Night Thrivers ! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Listen to our podcast Attend an Online Support Group Free, Weekly Events

By Brookshire McDonald, Patron Saint of Survivingbreastcancer.org I’m happy to be here To decorate a bra. What fun to join all y’all From afar! The Sip and Decorate Is a great Zeta event; So each of us is experiencing Time well spent. For those of us Breast cancer we had, This part of the journey Is not all bad. From us and those to be diagnosed In the years ahead, Zeta will be remembered For the love you have spread. Thank you tonight As I continue to survive; I’ve had two breast cancers And am happy I’m alive!

By Judy Pearson As a published biographer, research is a big part of my life. In 2011 (I can’t believe it’s been ten years!) when I heard the words, “ You have Triple Negative breast cancer ,” I donned my research hat and went to work. I assembled a medical “dream team,” based on personal contacts and online reviews. Surgical options, reconstructive avenues, and chemo drugs were all plugged into a spreadsheet. However, it never occurred to me that life after cancer would be different , and that survivorship was a “thing” to be researched as well. When a cascade of post-treatment issues rained down, I asked my oncologist what was happening. “We were busy saving your life,” she snapped. “Discussing survivorship wasn’t necessary.” And so my self-guided education began. To assuage the physical issues, diet and exercise topped everyone’s list. That was easy for me as those were already a part of my lifestyle. (Note to self: my oncologist had told me at the outset of treatment that my overall good health gave me a great advantage. Superior motivation to pass up the ice cream and move my booty every day!) Having been an A student in sleeping, the night sweats and insomnia were cramping my style. In a total reversal of character, I gave in to naps when my body asked for them. The “between the ears” stuff took a little more work. My cancer had come at the worst time. Does it ever come at a good time? I was a newlywed. My military son was deploying to Afghanistan. The questions rattling around in my head began with why: why me, why now? It seemed the most logical people to consult were those who had walked the same dusty road: sister (because men and women heal differently) survivors. That first step has truly changed my life. I could write thousands of words on the topic. Instead, I give you my platinum level of lessons learned. Find a Veteran Again, this is where my bona fide survivorship education began. While every survivor has unique challenges, there are many commonalities as well. Like any relationship, I looked for similarities, women of my age, temperament and lifestyle. One new friend led to another, and although there were a few toxic ones I jettisoned (no negativity and scary stories), for the most part these survivor veterans were great guides for this rookie. Biggest eye opener was the true definition of survivorship: it begins at diagnosis, as that’s when we begin surviving our disease. Join the Movement Thirty-five years ago, in 1986, 23 people came together for a weekend. They all had a connection to cancer and were all concerned about the completely unaddressed needs of cancer patients AFTER the acute phase of treatment had finished. By the end of the weekend, they had defined the word survivorship: it begins, they said at the moment of diagnosis – as that’s when one begins surviving cancer – and extends through the balance of life . No magical three or five year goal line. Their meeting was the founding of the National Coalition for Cancer Survivorship, and it launched the survivorship movement. They fought discrimination (losing a job because of a diagnosis), the cancer myths (survivors were called “victims” and feared because some believed cancer was contagious), and created a safe environment for survivors to share their challenges and their victories (imagine a world without that!). It is up to us, today’s survivors, to make certain the movement continues and that every newly diagnosed survivor receives preparation for their treatment AND their survivorship. Treasure in the Wreckage You’ve walked on a beach, right? If you’re studying what’s washed up, it’s easy to lose track of how far you’ve gone, until you look back at your footprints. So it is with survivorship. The treatment part of the cancer journey – the wreckage that everyone focuses on – is really just a blip on our timeline. The long walk, the one with the most footprints, is survivorship. And if we’re open to considering it, treasures can be found in our wreckage. Mine are many, including meeting amazing survivors, dedicated medical angels (some of whom were also survivors), and people I would never have known if not for cancer. I started an organization focused on doing good in a post-cancer life. There’s healing in helping. That led me to another survivor, whose astounding story became my upcoming book, From Shadows to Life. Would I rather not have lost a breast, my hair and a year of my life? You bet. Do I see my life as richer – and myself as a more interesting and well-rounded human – because of my cancer? You bet. I can’t undo my diagnosis. But I am determined to make the best of all the footprints in the sand since cancer washed up on my beach. --- Judy Pearson is a published author and contributor to many publications. Her new book, From Shadows to Life: A Biography of the Cancer Survivorship Movement tells our shared history. Learn more at JudithLPearson.com . Thank you for sharing your story, Judy. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Tracee I often tell people my son is my guardian angel but he just doesn’t know it yet. One day when he is older, I will sit down and share with him the story of how he helped save his mommy’s life. Discovering the Lump It was a normal August evening in our West Atlanta home. We had just returned from our daughter’s softball and son’s baseball practice. Our bellies were full, and we were all retiring upstairs for the night to prepare for school and work. I laid in my bed to get comfortable and my 7-year-old son laid his head gently on my chest just as he normally does when he gets ready to drift off into a deep sleep. Suddenly, he attempted to sit up abruptly using his elbow to push against my chest. When he pushed down, I felt pain in my right breast. This alerted me. The pain was so significant that it forced me to grab my breast and immediately self-examine. I looked over at my husband and said, “hmmmm that’s weird.” “I feel a pretty large lump in my breast.” He casually said, “Well baby, make an appointment and have the doctor check it out.” I could tell by his response that he was convinced it was nothing. ​However, my mind began to wonder because of my dad’s family history with breast cancer. I continued to rub my breast almost as if I was trying to tell myself it really wasn’t there. Somehow I wanted to believe that I was overreacting and it was all in my head. Eventually, I just told myself I was going to say a prayer and call my doctor in the morning to schedule an appointment. The next morning, I called my doctor’s office and told them I wanted to schedule an appointment for my primary care to check my breasts. I scheduled my appointment for the next week but my kids had a dentist appointment too, so I had to reschedule. When I rescheduled, I had to wait 2 more weeks to see my doctor. By this time, my nerves were getting bad and my mind was beginning to wonder. The Diagnosis It was almost as if something or someone was trying to interfere with my sense of urgency to get to my much needed appointment. “What about my kids? What about my husband? Will I die?” These were just a few of the heart wrenching questions that crossed my mind when my Breast Surgeon said to me on September 30, 2016, “You have Breast Cancer.” Her exact words were “ You have Invasive Ductal Carcinoma .” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing a day before breast cancer awareness month began. It was all just so ironic to me. In fact, I think I went into shock for a moment because I remember getting extremely weak and feeling like everything became a blur. I was at my office when my surgeon called me and honestly, I couldn’t feel my entire being anymore when I heard the news. It was like I no longer existed for a moment. It didn’t matter that she said to me, “ we caught it just in time. ” I remember breaking down in the hallway of my office. A young lady from the office across the hall along with some of my colleagues flooded into the hallway to console me. I couldn’t talk because I was crying so uncontrollably. It felt like my world was closing in on me. I felt like I was in a bubble and everyone was trying to reach for me but the bubble had me isolated from the world. It was a very strange feeling. After about 5 minutes, my colleagues were able to break through my mental bubble and console me, so I could walk back into the office to try and calm down. The first person I called was my mom. I remember saying, “mom, what’s going to happen to my kids?” She had no clue what I was talking about. She just kept saying: ”Calm down, Tracee. What’s going on? Calm down." I told her, “I have breast cancer.” “What did they say, Tracee? What did they say?” While I was on the phone with her, my colleagues called my husband to tell him that he needed to get home right away. They told him I had received some very bad news. Meanwhile, I was balling my eyes out sharing the news with my mom. Telling her my breast surgeon’s exact words. She asked me if someone could drive me home but I was so zoned out that I could hear her talking to me but couldn’t take direction. I was too distraught. I remember being able to tell her one of my colleagues offered to drive me home. I also remember the receptionist saying to me, “God has the final say about this, Tracee.” “We will not speak this upon you.” She spoke to me with such spiritual guidance. It began to soothe me and bring me to a more peaceful place. After I cried, cried, and cried some more, I was able to refocus so I could drive myself home. Next Steps and Treatment It seemed like the longest drive ever. So many things went through my head. I prayed that my husband would beat me home, so I could feel his warm touch and hear his soothing voice say, “Everything is going to be fine, baby cakes.” There is something about being held by your other half during such a difficult time and hearing the words, “we will get through this.” They are words that you long to hear every moment of every day so that you can cope, so that you can somewhat breathe easier. I often felt as though my chest was caving in a little each day because I knew I had a big fight ahead. It felt as if it took a little more effort for me to breathe. I knew it would be the fight of my life. My mind wandered continuously with many what ifs, but I had to try to maintain my sanity for my family. One of the first things I did after I heard the news was to write on my bathroom mirror with a tube of red lipstick, “Dear C, you will not win!” It was my daily reminder that I would fight this disease with every fiber of my being. I refused to let it win. I had seen this disease run rampant on my dad’s side of the family, and I was determined to put up a fight. Over the course of a couple of months, I went through several breast biopsies to confirm the breast cancer diagnosis, and I immediately decided to have a double mastectomy with reconstruction. Many questioned my decision not to have a lumpectomy but my mind was made up. I refused to live my life in fear with the thought of the breast cancer returning. Therefore, on November 16, 2016, my breast tissue was removed. The idea of having chemotherapy treatments was extremely scary to me. I knew my aunts had braved the storm a couple of times, but the horror stories associated with chemo, absolutely terrified me. Constantly being sick, losing my hair, and not being able to function for my family were thoughts that were ripping me apart. Both of my kids are young athletes, and I could not fathom missing their events because of chemo. I contemplated not even doing chemo. However, after discussions with some of my good medical friends, I moved forward with chemo. I chose a more aggressive treatment plan because of the type of tumor I had and my family history. I endured 20 weeks of “the red devil” and Taxol. I have to say without my faith and family, I don’t know how I would have made it through. I dreaded Thursdays because those were my scheduled treatment days. The irony of it all is that my kid’s athletic events actually kept me going throughout my chemo journey! The fight that I possessed to get up and continue going to their events, was unreal to me. I was extremely nauseated, experienced bone pain, and lightheadedness but pushed through. Fruit and lemon gum were also a saving grace for me during treatments. I took fruit bowls and lemon gum with me to every treatment. Both eliminated unwarranted tastes and kept me relaxed. Last but not least, my family was my rock throughout this journey. My loving husband, mom, dad, in-laws, aunts, cousins, sisters, and friends kept me uplifted in prayer, and I felt them fighting with me! I can’t say enough about them and their loving support. It brings me to tears just thinking of how much they all mean to me. My children don’t even realize the amount of strength they gave to me during this process. Breast Cancer Changed Me Forever One day, I hope to share it with them both. Although I’ve beat breast cancer, I struggle with the emotional side effects of the disease and the fear of it returning one day. Now, when I go to the doctor, my heart races, blood pressure rises, and my mind wonders. I’m convinced I will never be the same person again. Having breast cancer has changed me forever. However, I can say, I am a breast cancer survivor . I never thought I would ever have to say those words. I also never thought I would be writing a story about my own personal breast cancer journey, but here I am. My God had other plans for me. Although it was a painful journey, I am grateful for the experience, I am hopeful for a cure, and I am and will always be blessed beyond measures. Thank you for sharing your story, Tracee. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Positive Thinking for Healing Listen to our podcast Online Support Groups

By Ted Not me! Men don’t get breast cancer, right? Especially males like me who have always taken pride in taking decent care of oneself. Males like me don’t get breast cancer who have spent 24 years selling medical professionals in the pharmaceutical healthcare industry, covering accounts like Duke Medical Center, Walter Reed, etc. Males like me don’t get breast cancer who carefully invest and plan so well for retirement and now active as an Independent Medicare Healthcare Consultant. Darn! Guess what? It happens and yes, why not me? Men do get breast cancer, even me. Thank God for my wife who has been so supportive! I am currently being treated and here is my status. The Lump and The Diagnosis Well it started about July 2018. While taking a normal shower, I felt a small lump in my right breast area. Not overly concerned, I went to my primary care doctor and dermatologist. We all agreed that it was probably a cyst, but it needed to be checked out with a biopsy and mammogram. I must say, I was a little taken back as a male . Guess what? It was invasive lobular carcinoma, Grade 2 with ER and PR Positive, and HER2 Negative. Which means, get treated right away. Second Opinions and Onward So, after the initial shock, I made an appointment with my doctor again who suggested a good surgeon where he sent his female breast cancer patients. After the initial visit with my surgeon (who had just finished with another male patient with breast cancer), she consulted her favorite oncologist. Based on my pathology report, surgery was scheduled as the first option. A few days later, all my right breast tissue was removed with the tumor along with 13 lymph nodes under my right arm area. Darn! Cancer cells were discovered in 2 lymph nodes. Lucky me, right? Yes, because we need to get the treatment right the first time! I guess I was lucky because now I knew I needed Chemotherapy to make sure I survive long term and treat this “beast” aggressively from the start. So, I decided I wanted a second opinion (thank God for Medicare and a Medicare Supplement) and I met with a new oncologist that was recommended by my primary care doctor. Now we were off to the races (no, not so fast). I was scheduled for 4 Chemo treatments, 3 weeks apart for each treatment. With much prayers and support, I have completed Chemo which was not fun, but I am done. Not really, now the radiation begins. Again, thank God I have a strong medical team and friends for support. I met with my Radiologist, PHD and Board-Certified Radiation Oncologist. She has a most impressive resume and spent much time with me on all the next steps. I asked a “ton” of questions. She was so thorough and answered all my many questions with treatment diagrams. For example, I asked her what was more efficacious, chemo or radiation? She had a great “broken glass” analogy and said both are very important. She said the radiation treatment is like when you drop a glass on the floor, and it shatters. The shattered pieces are like cancer cells in your body. You just want to make sure you sweep up in the designated area several times and eliminate any potential cancer cells missed by the previous treatments as in surgery. Chemo is broader in coverage in killing cancer cells. Glass can shatter when broken and sometimes we notice that a piece may be located far away from the designated area. This can happen with cancer cells moving within the lymphatic system. Yes, let’s kill all the beast please! The Steps The first step in radiation was to postpone radiation. I was scheduled for physical therapy to maximize my right arm movement. This was due to the surgery where I had my right breast and lymph nodes removed. After this, I got my first cool pinpoint tattoo markers (grandkids will like that) with a scan and then I was scheduled for 28 radiation treatments. The radiation took place 5 days per week for 6 weeks. The radiation process was quick, thorough and painless other than a rash, some fatigue and a deep redness like a sunburn. We are still treating the redness/rash by a steroid cream. I will also be taking a drug Tamoxifen as a security blanket to make sure the beast does not return. Celebrations Touchdown (sorry but I am an ex-coach too)! I finished treatments on March 13th and celebrated with my “excellent” Radiology and Chemo Medical Teams. My wife and I then took a nice vacation to celebrate my status and to celebrate her birthday. I feel very positive about my future and I will continue to live my life to the fullest. Thank you for sharing your story, Ted. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Positive Thinking for Healing Our Weekly MeetUp Online Support Groups

By Ilene Kaminsky (Read part 1 here .) “The more you hide your feelings, the more they show. The more you deny your feelings, the more they grow.” ~Unknown Sitting with our feelings instead of disengaging or distracting ourselves is work. Feeling pain helps silence that internal critic that says, “I’m not doing enough.” Healing circles accept we are doing our best without any criticism. It’s a safe space and a container into which we can not only use as a place to understand that feeling is both important and a productive part of the psychosocial spoke in the wheel that holds us up as we pedal the unicycle that is a cancer diagnosis. There’s a special magic that transpires that’s difficult to put into words. On Our Own We’re mostly on our own with metastatic breast cancer especially. Even with the best of caregivers we’re on a very personal journey. On the unicycle we sit on a seat hoping not to fall over and tenuously balancing atop all of those spokes in the wheel - the axel is the diagnosis itself. Did it come as a shock? Did you have a BRCA gene in your family? Were you diagnosed de novo stage 4? Did you go through a primary cancer only to be diagnosed many years later with secondary or advanced metastatic breast cancer? All of these circumstances create stress, anger, shock, uncertainty, loss of friendship and family relationships, 50% of men divorce their wives. The list goes on as we lose financial and psychosocial stability. Yet who, besides our physicians and counselors can we really be honest with - without judgement, without trying to “fix” or “help,” but just listen deeply and with curiosity? What I’ve Learned As Michael Lerner helped me to understand in what I later realized was a healing circle of two - Michael is one of the founders of Healing Circles Global, along with Diana and Kelly Lindsay, helped me to understand when I was a year into my diagnosis: As a child I began writing poetry at five or six years old. My mother saved my first pencil written verse and gave it to me when I turned 40. Whenever trauma overwhelmed me, I’d pick up my pen and notebook. I’m now 56 years old and nearly seven years into my de novo (from the beginning) diagnosis of stage 4 metastatic breast cancer with mets to my bones, liver and peritoneum. It’s hormone receptor positive, for which thankfully research has developed many “lines” of treatment, but I’m on my sixth line, including six months on IV chemo. There’s only one more left after the one I’m on no longer works. But that’s the life someone with MBC leads,, at least for now. But I never let go of hope. Nor does the medical team, of which I am the ultimate decision maker. It’s a community of medical professionals who listen and who give me all my options. We decide together what’s best for me. Yet, after I was diagnosed on March 25. 2015 I had to find a new path to walk, mostly alone or so I thought. I reached out to find online communities I’d never knew existed. People diagnosed with MBC and other cancers. I began to write a blog nearly immediately after diagnosis to share my experiences with others who I thought could benefit from my own. The blogging community led me to social media, which I’d already used in my now retired professional career in high tech. From there I was led to patient advocacy via Living Beyond Breast Cancer, as a Buddy for Sharsheret, co-leading support groups, and doing many podcast interviews on therapeutic writing and it’s psychosocial benefits. It’s a busy life. So many communities opened their arms and all I had to do was reach out my own. There’s no turning back when you receive a terminal cancer diagnosis. I’ve lost so much that once made my life what it was. But instead of tossing it all away and focusing on the “end,” I found new beginnings where I’d started as a young girl. And my gift keeps giving back into that community in ways that have also paid off in my life. One needn’t be a poet or an essayist to write through their emotions and experiences. It could just mean keeping a journal that one writes down one thing they found surprised or made them happy that day. After a few weeks of writing for five minutes suddenly one realizes after reviewing their journal that despite a terminal cancer diagnosis we can still so many things in this life to be grateful for. Many of the poems here are dedicated to people who died from cancer or who are still living but inspired me to write because of the way in which they moved me to be grateful. The first one is dedicated to a man who spent his life helping people with a cancer diagnosis to heal themselves emotionally after the fateful words, “I’m sorry but…” He said to me after I woefully looked at him and said, “I don’t have a path anymore! When I look down I don’t see where to put my foot to move forward – I see nothing.” He replied, “Ilene, you’re a writer. Call yourself a writer because that’s what you are.” Such simple advice. For your information and for finding out more of the kinds of healing circles, including cancer, caregiving, death and dying, for men, for women, and many more, here’s a great link that describes healing circles far better than I https://healingcirclesglobal.org/calling-a-circle/what-is-a-healing-circle/ Poetry’s My Love Language And finally a poem that describes what I feel after I’ve concluded a healing circle - be it one I host for metastatic breast cancer patients or the ones I co-host on cancer and on writing for healing circles global - and the ones I attend on cancer, and have attended throughout Covid keeping me from becoming unnecessarily isolated using zoom. We gather and I’ve learnt so much from the cohosts of these circles. I close with a poem because that’s how I can best express myself, to you dear readers. And if you’ve come this far I thank you for reading. Please feel free to reach out to me via my blog at Https://cancerbus.com/ or via Twitter @ilenealizah. Blessings and deep peace to all. Live with Your Questions Live quietly with your questions. Sit still for a spell, just for now, put yesterday away with well-deserved tenderness. Nurture these moments, like newborns, feed and swaddle them. Rock them in the sweet rhythm of their slumbering breath. In this, the only moment Ever to become infinity’s reply to the direction of your green green path, a path with new ways to go — some trodden upon, some unknown. You think of “Nothing” much like that infant you carefully once loved. Why rush to grow? Time grows long regardless of your prodding for politeness or for prodigy. For they, in minutes of stillness will grow into our hours. The answers reveal themselves only when you’ve Forgotten to ask “why?” These questions over the course of life become like gems beaded onto a necklace, weighing you — Bowing you down In prayer or in repentance. Break its clasp And relinquish all the heaviness to the ground. Lift your head up and open your mouth. Catch the blessed rain on your tongue. What’s keeping you silent as your Lungs feed on the breath of freedom? Cut the stones weight from round Your neck. Breathe in time with your child who holds no answers. Not even the coolness of this second is hindered by what should be and will never be again. The answers you came here to gather when you were still innocent, in your open hands to grab secretly Like flowers from Neighboring garden whose labors were never yours to own. SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Breast Cancer Poetry Our Podcast Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

By Kristen Carter - In Loving Memory Dear Kristen After All That I Have Been Through, How do I find ME again? It’s completely normal to feel disoriented and detached from our old lives and original selves after anything as life-altering as a breast cancer diagnosis. It’s like we’ve been picked up in a personal tidal wave, tossed and tumbled, and washed up on a new shore, dripping and wondering where the heck we are. When this happened to me–after the initial diagnosis and urgent treatment, when I could see I was going to live a while longer–I turned to my most tried-and-true coaching tools to help ground me and get me back in touch with myself. One thing I like about the coaching tool I am going to share with you today is that it’s uncomplicated. Another is that it’s steeped in research into what is most important in life; in positive psychology, these are called The Pillars of Wellbeing. They are universal; as relevant to me in Boulder County, Colorado, as they were to South African township students I taught it to years ago. What I recommend is that you spend a few minutes thinking about what matters most to you in each category outlined below. This will connect you deeply to what matters to you now and what has always mattered to you–threads that will help weave together the “yous” from all stages of your life. The acronym for this tool is SIMPLE: S: SUCCESS Success gets to mean whatever you want it to: professional, financial, personal, social–any goals that will make you feel fulfilled. What do you want to accomplish? What dreams have you had since you were young? Since you got older? What ideas have been bubbling up inside that you’d love to bring into being? I: INTERESTS What do you love to do? What makes you lose track of time? How would you spend a paid holiday? What section of the bookstore do you gravitate toward? What did you love as a child? What project supplies are gathering dust somewhere in your home? M: MEANING How do you want to leave your mark on the world? In what ways are you involved with something larger than yourself, like a community or a movement? If you have children, what lessons do you most want to teach them? P: PEOPLE This is probably the most important category of all, as the quality of our relationships directly determines the quality of our lives. Who do you love? Who would you invite on to your life raft and who might you lovingly invite to take a seat on another raft with other people? Who fills your bucket? If you drew concentric circles, who would be in the innermost one? The next one? The next? L: LIVING How do you nurture your body, mind, and soul? What are your goals or dreams for your precious self? What brings you a feeling of physical well-being, or what do you imagine for yourself in the future? What fuels your imagination, your curiosity? What do you love learning? What spiritual beliefs feel right and affirming to you? E: EMOTIONS How do you like to feel? We might all say “happy,” but what does that mean for you? Safe, calm, and content? Zestful, energized, and vibrant? Fierce? Brene Brown’s new book, Atlas of the Heart , is a wonderful resource for ideas and vocabulary around emotions, and we have an “emotional thesaurus” you can download right here to help you think. That’s it! I’ve used this to plot big-picture goals (I call it my SIMPLE life plan) and from there, I can set daily and mid-term goals to help me stay connected to myself and do what’s most important to me. I hope it helps you do the same. For now, Kristen <3

By Kristen Carter Dear Kristen, I know I should do genetic testing so it can inform my family, especially my daughters, but I’m nervous to find out the results. Ignorance is bliss, right? -Anonymous Dear Anonymous, Is ignorance really bliss? I know that’s a popular sentiment – and I understand the statement in regards to genetic testing might feel safer than the test itself – but so is the statement, “knowledge is power.” I think in this case I’d want the power. Personally, I was scared and I let my doctor know. She was of immense comfort and reassurance, and she even snagged an extra nurse to hold my hand during the blood draw. And it wasn’t about fear of the extraction, but about the many emotions surrounding it. Facing our biggest fears is hard, no doubt about it. It requires us to willingly submit to being vulnerable, and none of us enjoy that feeling. But whether you know your genetic status or not doesn’t change the FACT of it: It’s either positive or negative. And if negative, you will know, and if positive, you will also know and then know what steps to take. However, in certain cases, it is possible that a genetics test could come back as a " variant of unknown significance ". This is a bit of a gray area meaning that there is not enough data to say for sure if it's positive or negative. As such, VUS results are treated as negative until proven otherwise. You and your daughters deserve to know, and to know in time to take actions based on the results. Still feeling nervous but want to face the fear? Talking to your doctor about your fears and “what ifs” has always helped my heart. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, and hey, why not ask another nurse to hold your hand while your blood is being drawn? Support is at your fingertips! So, I am empowering you to be brave! Good luck, and come back and tell us how the testing went and what you decided to do as a result. We really do care, and so many of us have been in your shoes. Our hearts (and power) are with you, anonymous. xo Kristen For additional support and resources, check out our recent articles: Genetic Testing for a Predisposition Toward Breast Cancer Genetic Testing for Cancer: What You Need to Know Germline ATM Mutation Living With the BRCA Gene

By Nate Kolmodin My name is Nate Kolmodin. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in May 2004. After recently learning about her journey through breast. cancer, I find it important to share my mother's story, as well as mine. Today, I will discuss how to be helpful when a loved one is sick. If you are interested in my other articles, check out Exercise is Good For Everyone . Feeling helpless is normal, but you are not alone. Cancer is incredibly daunting, and when dealing with it, it’s important to find people in your life who are willing to sacrifice a lot of time, energy, and emotions just to make sure you’re comfortable. You need assistance, and there are always friends, social groups, and loved ones who will do anything for you at the drop of a hat. Don’t be afraid to reach out. More often than not, people are more than happy to help someone in need, especially those they love. Don’t be afraid to accept help. Cancer is hard enough, but asking for the help you need can be just as painful. Don’t feel obligated to do things. If you feel those around you aren’t being considerate of your needs, then consider distancing yourself. Don’t feel bad about becoming distant from those who aren’t as thoughtful or oblivious to your condition; you need people who will listen to you . It’s the people who offered unsolicited help who matter the most. Living through traumatic events like this, you discover the friends who matter the most. Those who become distant may be scared of getting hurt by the potential loss of someone close to them and may not offer help. This does not mean they don't want to help you, you just have to tell them how to help you. When my mother was receiving treatment she had a whole cast of characters come together to help her. It was hard for her to speak up and tell anyone what she was feeling and what would make her feel better. Luckily, my mother had, and has, a champion of a husband to help her along the way. My father was at every single one of her doctor’s appointments for 2 years and had to juggle work and two newborn children at the time (my sister and I). We would constantly have Synagogue members, cancer support groups, neighbors, and friends making meals for our family because of how busy my parents were. Finding time to cook a meal for 4 people was hard for my dad. Even the simplest meals were highly appreciated. Unsolicited kindness can change someone’s day. Even the mailman offered to help by walking the mail up to our door (we have a mountainous driveway). In time, when anybody asked if my mom needed anything, she learned to speak up and let them know: “If you could make us dinner one night this week, that would really help us out.” And don’t be afraid to be specific either. For example, if you have a food allergy, or if you kids are vegetarian, let the person know in advance! It’s really important to listen to the patient, to successfully care for them. You have to work for them, listen to what they need, and do the best you can to help. P.S. Don’t wait. Show thanks to those who do the most.

By Kristen Carter Dear Kristen, I'm really struggling with intense sadness and loss since I had to say goodbye to my emotional support dog, Gus. He was 13 years old and so much a part of me, even to the point that he needed to be with me in whatever room of the house I was in. Gus was struggling with complex medical problems and I was in fear of his imminent suffering. He was a handsome Scottish Terrier and has been with me through my entire journey with breast cancer. He provided comfort when he knew I needed it and now I feel completely lost without him. I've been experiencing trouble concentrating and sleeping and am overcome with grief and guilt over my decision to have him euthanized. What can I do to get through this painful time and to reach the point where I can think about all the love and happy memories that we shared? Dear Reader, I am so sorry for the loss of your beloved dog. Our relationships with our animal companions can be so rich and fulfilling that many people suffer as much or more when pets die as when they lose a human friend or family member. It’s no wonder – our love for and from animals can be among the most unconditional, nonjudgmental, and relatively simple relationships of our lives. In your case, this is compounded by the fact that Gus was there for you during an intense and traumatic phase of your life. Take whatever time you need to grieve There are no shortcuts when it comes to grieving. Allowing yourself to feel all the hard phases of the process – typically denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – may hurt while they’re happening but will ultimately allow you to complete this healing cycle. You mention feeling guilty as well. You sound like a very loving, sensitive person and I would wager that you thought through all the possibilities for Gus before deciding on euthanasia. It was probably the kindest thing you could have done under the circumstances. So give yourself permission to let go of the guilt, even if you have to do it little by little. Coping with other people’s reactions Not everyone understands how deeply the loss of a pet can affect us. Some people may try to minimize Gus’s loss, saying things like, “He was only a dog,” or “Just adopt another one.” This might even be their misguided attempt to make you feel better. Others may say nothing, either because they don’t understand how you feel, are trying to stay in denial about the prospect of losing their own animal, or trying not to remember the death of a previous one. Try not to let these awkward encounters upset you, if possible. Simply move on or respond with something like, “Thanks for your advice, but I need to handle this my own way.” Find people who DO understand There are people who will know what you’re going through and who can offer their support plus ideas for healing. You may want to explore the internet, including Max’s Healing Hearts Community on Facebook and the Rainbow Bridge Pet Loss grief support center. Honor his memory Create a memorial you can visit as often as you want to. This can be a photo on a bookshelf, a place where he is buried or you keep his ashes, or something as simple as a candle you light whenever you miss him. Talk to him, tell him you love him, thank him for his love – anything that makes you feel good or connected. Take your time Time will help ease the intensity of your grief, and (again) you can’t rush this. You may feel ready for another pet someday, but in the meantime, be gentle with yourself. Something you might want to do before you take the plunge into ownership would be volunteering at an animal shelter; that would give you access to the kind of love only animals can give, without a full commitment. In the meantime, give yourself compassion and know that your capacity to love so deeply is an amazing strength. All the best for your healing journey, Kristen xo

By Abigail Johnston When I was diagnosed with Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC) in 2017 at 38 years young, my legacy was literally the last thing on my mind. Every bit of energy and focus and brain cell were focused on staying alive, on figuring out the diagnosis and learning everything I could about breast cancer. Now, five (5) years later, I’ve crossed over into semi-unicorn territory and finally got a scan that showed the cancer in my body is no longer active a/k/a No Evidence of Active Disease (NEAD). In this season of less stress attached to medication and worry about progression, I’ve had the opportunity and space to think more about my legacy. And when my father in law died recently and we spent a long time talking about him and his legacy, it got me thinking even more about mine. What will be my legacy? What will live on after I’m no longer in this physical body? When Lisa Laudico died recently (she so-founded the @OurMBCLife podcast, among other advocacy efforts), I started thinking more about my legacy outside my own family and what happens within the MBC Community. For those of us immersed in Advocacy, what will others remember about us when we’re gone? How can we in the Community remember and honor those who have died? So, what is a legacy in the context of MBC? In researching the definition, I came across many different perspectives, but the one I’ve settled on for myself is this: Legacy is simply what we leave behind when our lives are over. What we leave behind can be 1) people (family and friends); 2) words/writing; 3) items (property and other things); 4) programs (like SBC); 5) Advocacy efforts that bear fruit later; and so much more. What each person leaves behind as a legacy is as individual as we each are people. One piece of my legacy is the germline mutation (ATM) that I may or may not have passed on to my boys, which isn’t something that isn’t a positive to me, but I am thankful that many of my family members have been able to discover whether they too carry the mutation and to take action, as necessary. Here’s what I think we each can do when it comes to legacy: 1. Think about our individual legacies and plan for it. This could mean writing down family traditions or stories; this could be pre-planning for funeral services or pre-paying for a burial plot; this could be writing letters or cards for special days we won’t be present for; this could be creating a box with items that may help our loved ones recall better days; this could be taking professional pictures regularly so that there is a visual record of us with our families; this could be recording a legacy video; this could be anything that makes sense to you. and 2. Honor and celebrate the legacies of others. I think we do a pretty good job of this in the MBC Community as we honor the lives of those who have died, but I think we can think of ways to do this even better. My dear friends at GRASP ( www.GRASPCancer.org ) do an amazing job of honoring research advocates during each session — pictures and stories of research advocates are shared as we prepare to review the science that lives on through their efforts I also wanted to highlight two things that each of us can do towards our legacies this month because I know it’s hard to know where to start sometimes. First, for you writers, one of our partners, April Stearns over at Wildfire ( www.WildfireCommunity.org ), is offering an amazing opportunity to write about legacy. There will be a special issue with the theme, Legacy Stories. The categories are: 1) stories and people from the past; 2) The Present moment; the way we live today; and 3) The Future. For the submissions, you would select one of these categories to write about and send your submission to: editor@wildfirecommunity.org. The deadline is Thursday, August 25, 2022. Second, for anyone living with MBC, we have our inaugural quarterly MBC workshop focused entirely on legacy on August 27, 2022 from 1-3 p.m. Eastern. This workshop is designed and hosted by the MBC Leadership team and is focused on writings, legal planning, and legacy videos. We hope that this will give everyone a starting point and a safe place to talk about plans you might already have in place. All of the attendees will receive a handout (currently more than 20 pages!) of information we’ve gathered, checklists and resources after the workshop. Learn more and sign up on our Events page ! And watch for the next workshop, focused on mindfulness, that we will have during the often difficult month of October. If you have a suggestion for a future MBC workshop, please don’t hesitate to let us know! I’d like to leave you with this thought — a legacy doesn’t have to be big and splashy like getting your name on a building or $$ left to those we leave behind. Our legacies are what is left once we leave this earth and I suspect our greatest legacy will be the people we’ve touched in some way. As I heard the stories about my father in law at the recent service honoring his life, it was the things he did every day and were just part of who he was, that people most remembered and celebrated. So, let’s be intentional and carefully consider what we will leave behind as we go about this living while dying experience with MBC. Other Resources: MBC Grieving Together Facebook Group ( https://www.facebook.com/groups/597683717601254 ) GRASP; Guiding Researchers and Advocates to Scientific Partnerships ( www.graspcancer.org ) Wildfire ( wildfirecomunity.org ). ProjectLifeMBC.org (Legal Clinics each month and ongoing conversations on legacy) Five Wishes ( https://store.fivewishes.org/ShopLocal/en/p/FW-MASTER-000/five-wishes-paper )

By Rod Ritchie We all belong to the SurvivingBreastCancer.org community for different reasons. Many are variously curious and seek information, some of us are patients and caregivers or friends and relatives, some have lost loved ones to this disease, while others may wish to support a breast cancer charity. We also seek to learn from medical professionals, such as surgeons, oncologists, physicians, and other experts in the field. Regardless, every so often many of us feel a calling to become patient advocates. Being a patient advocate is satisfying, and advocating for anybody diagnosed with breast cancer very often means the patient has a partner throughout the stressful diagnosis and initial treatment phases. It can also involve giving practical support, from basics such as household chores and meals, to assistance when transport to medical events is necessary. Most importantly, it can mean sitting in on doctor appointments where another pair of ears can be invaluable along with a notepad for all that information . This is information that the patient often just doesn’t either comprehend or even properly ‘hear.’ My Advocacy Story After diagnosis in 2014, I was a regular poster on BreastCancer.org, one of the few communities that welcomed men. With a marketing and IT background, I soon worked out that you could reach a lot of people with the right forums. At the start, I was learning from the experiences of others, in later years, after training and learned experiences, I put newly diagnosed men in touch with the support systems developing on the various social media platforms, most of all Twitter and Facebook. While the traditional print and electronic media are still effective outlets, social media is the perfect platform for international patient advocates to engage with patients and medical professionals. It’s very easy on Twitter to reach out to the clinical and research communities around the world to spread your message. That said, at no time should a patient advocate give medical advice . In the beginning, I could see that most people just wanted someone to talk to, and that was fine by me. Isolation, lack of knowledge, and just plain embarrassment were what very many men felt. Knowing someone was out there having lived their experiences was often a great comfort. Looking for more opportunities, I underwent training as a telephone counselor for people in various stages of treatment. Often these people lived in remote areas. When an opportunity came up for volunteers at the local hospital infusion room, I jumped at the chance to sit with people at this stressful and vulnerable time. My introduction line was, “I’m just here to support patients. If you like to talk, fine, if not I’ll move on.” This had a 50 percent success rate! After attending conferences for patient advocates, I was fortunate to land a scholarship to the NBCC Project LEAD course in San Diego in 2018. In 2019, I received a scholarship to attend SABCS19, where I was impressed by the kindness of the many women who are mostly the patient advocates in this field, and who I only knew online. One thing leads to another. Now I’m writing articles, making videos, giving talks, and editing the stories from men for the Male Breast Cancer Global Alliance. I occupy a niche in breast cancer advocacy, and I’m always amazed at the number of medical professionals following me on Twitter. What it takes Patient advocates need to look at and respond constructively to different positions and issues, bounce back from negative or unresponsive patients and, most importantly, be resilient enough to handle the trials and tribulations of our disease along with that of the people they are trying to help. The best patient advocates: always listen and learn; are open to different ways to share messages; value support from others; and partner with like-minded individuals. Basically, I believe patient advocates have much to gain psychologically from helping others. In fact, we are healthier and mentally stronger for it. That aside, if we’ve benefited from the help of others, why not pay it forward? About Rod Ritchie Rod Ritchie is a Sydney-born writer, internet publisher, and breast cancer patient activist, living with breast and prostate cancers. Currently he’s NED for both. He’s President, Board of Directors, Male Breast Cancer Global Alliance, has a website at MaleBC.org and you can follow him on Twitter @malefitness His articles for Health Union can be found here: https://advancedbreastcancer.net/author/traveltext SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Our Podcast Online Support Groups Free, Weekly Events

I know breast cancer can be an incredibly overwhelming and emotional experience. I'm preaching to the choir. It is common to feel scared, angry, sad, isolated, and uncertain about the future. Your scans and oncology visits are nothing if not stressful events. However, there are tools available for managing the flood of emotions that come with a breast cancer diagnosis, recurrence, and/or progression. One way we've found to be incredibly helpful at SBC is to begin working through your emotions through expressive writing and poetry. Expressive writing is any form of writing that allows you to explore your thoughts and feelings about a topic (and no, you don't have to be a writer!). It can be a letter, journal entry, poem, or anything else you feel comfortable writing and don't even have to share! This is just for YOU! Expressive writing has been shown to help reduce stress, boost immunity, and improve mental and physical health. Although there are many ways to cope with a breast cancer diagnosis, expressive writing and poetry can be two of the most effective tools. In this blog post, we will discuss how expressive writing and poetry can help with emotional healing for those diagnosed with breast cancer. We will also provide examples of how to get started with your own expressive writing or poetry project. Background Breast cancer is one of the most common cancers in women. It can be a very emotional experience, both for the patient and their loved ones. Breast cancer can cause a great deal of anxiety and stress, as well as sadness and grief. Many people feel scared and alone when they are diagnosed with breast cancer. Thus breast cancer can have a profound effect on your emotions and mental health. The experience can be overwhelming, and it’s often hard to cope with the changes in your body and life. It’s important to find ways to deal with the emotional challenges of breast cancer, both during and after treatment. Some people find it helpful to talk about their feelings with friends or family. Others find it helpful to join a support group or participate in counseling. Some find expressive writing to be helpful. This is when you write continuously about your thoughts and feelings surrounding breast cancer. It can be a way to release the emotions you’re feeling and to make sense of what’s going on. Studies have shown that expressive writing can have emotional benefits. In one study, women with breast cancer who wrote about their experiences had less anxiety and depression than women who didn’t write about their experiences. If you’re interested in trying expressive writing, there are a few things you should keep in mind. First, you should write about your deepest emotions and thoughts. It’s okay to write about the negative emotions you’re feeling, such as anger, fear, or sadness. Second, you should write continuously for at least 10 minutes a day. And third, you should do this for at least consecutive three days. A stressful event that has shattered the sense of security can result in emotional pain and psychological trauma. There is helplessness, hyperactivity and anxiety observed. There are upsetting emotions and making it look like having little or no control over the situation. Expressive writing has been shown to help reduce stress, boost immunity, and improve mental and physical health. Poetry can also be a powerful tool for healing. Poetry can also help you express your emotions in a creative and cathartic way. It can also help you make sense of your experience, connect with others, and find hope. Keep in mind that expressive writing is not so much what happened as it is how you feel about what happened or is happening. The connection between expressive writing and wellness has been notably explored by Dr. James Pennebaker at the University of Texas at Austin. 1 In his landmark research project, Pennebaker developed an expressive writing prompt to uncover the potential health benefits of writing about emotional upheaval. There are many ways to get started with expressive writing or poetry. You can write in a journal, create a blog, or even just start scribbling down your thoughts on a piece of paper. There are no rules – just start writing! If you’re not sure what to write about, try prompts like: “I feel....” “I need....” "I love..." "I appreciate..." You can also try free writing, where you just let your thoughts flow onto the page without worrying about grammar or punctuation. Don’t worry if your writing isn’t perfect. This is for you, and no one else needs to see it. Just let the words flow and see what comes out. You may be surprised at how therapeutic it can be. What Is Emotional Healing? Emotional healing is the process of acknowledging, allowing, accepting, integrating, and processing painful life experiences and strong emotions. It may involve empathy, self-regulation, self-compassion, self-acceptance, mindfulness, and integration. Many people have a tendency to want to control the process of emotional healing by minimizing the pain and controlling their emotions, but this can actually inhibit the healing process. Reclaiming your emotional health is an important part of the healing journey. Breast cancer can take a toll on your emotions, but expressing yourself in expressive writing or poetry can help you process your feelings and find peace. It’s okay to feel all of the pain breast cancer has caused you – it doesn’t make you weak or less than. By taking the time to express yourself, you can find solace and even strength in your own words. Take care of yourself and give yourself permission to heal. Writing can help you recognize and accept that Breast Cancer has had an impact on your life and work through all the emotions it brings up. The Emotional Challenge of Breast Cancer Breast cancer can have a profound effect on your well-being and mental health. The experience can be overwhelming, and it’s often hard to cope with the changes in your body and life. It’s not uncommon to feel down, anxious or stressed during and after treatment. If you’re having trouble coping, it’s important to seek help from a mental health professional. It’s important to find ways to deal with the emotional challenges of breast cancer, both during and after treatment. Some people find it helpful to talk about their feelings with friends or family. Others find it helpful to join a support group or participate in counseling. Some people also find expressive writing to be helpful. This is when you write continuously about your thoughts and feelings surrounding breast cancer. It can be a way to release the emotions you’re feeling and to make sense of what’s happening. If you’re interested in trying expressive writing, there are a few things to keep in mind: Find a comfortable place to write, where you won’t be interrupted. This could be at a desk, at a table, or even outside in nature. Start by writing stream-of-consciousness style, in the present moment, without worrying about grammar or punctuation. Just let the words flow onto the page. It doesn’t have to be perfect or polished. This is for you, and no one else needs to see it. Set aside time each day to write. This can be as little as 10 minutes, but it’s important to be consistent. Try to compose for at least 10 to 15 minutes a day, for 3 consecutive days. (This has become part of my morning routine while she drinks her coffee before starting her day!). Consistency is key and the more consecutive days you can string together, you will start to naturally find your own rhythm. Once you’ve written for a while, you can start to edit and revise your work if you want. But it’s also perfectly fine to just let the words be. Remember that there is no right or wrong way to do this. Just do what feels good for you and go with the flow. Once you start writing, you may be surprised at how therapeutic it can be. Writing offers us a sense of control. It can help us process emotional pain, make meaning of our present relationships and situations, and be an effective way to bring clarity to extremely personal situations that we may not necessarily feel comfortable talking about. According to the American Journal of Public Health, expressive writing increases positive emotions, reduces negative thoughts, and in term have a profound effect on our mental health, making us feel more confident, in control, and less overwhelmed. Additionally, according to the International Journal of Cancer Management, poetry therapy increased hope based on Miller Hope scale 1 week, 8 weeks, and 6 months after the intervention The researchers found that group poetry therapy can be a good psychotherapy and a way to increase the quality of life of people with breast cancer. Similarly, poets who have been diagnosed with breast cancer often share their work as an ode of strength, inspiration and courage to their community – so don’t be afraid to express yourself in whichever form that you feel comfortable with! No matter which form of expression you choose, remember Sharing your story Sharing Your Story with others can also help you feel connected and supported. Breast cancer doesn't have to define you, but it can be a part of your story. Embrace your emotions and don't be afraid to express them. There are many ways to share your story, including: -Writing a letter to your cancer - Starting a blog -Joining an online support group -Sharing your story with a friend or family member Whatever you do, remember that you are not alone in this journey. There is help and support available How to write a poem about breast cancer There are no rules for how to write a poem about breast cancer. Just let the words flow and express whatever you're feeling. Breast cancer can be a difficult and emotional journey, but poetry can offer you a way to process your thoughts and emotions. It can be therapeutic and even cathartic. So don't worry about rhyming or writing perfect prose. Just let the words come out however they need to. Write from the heart and don't be afraid to be vulnerable. Your poem can be as long or as short as you need it to be. And there's no right or wrong way to write about breast cancer. Let the words flow and see where they take you. When writing, you may experiment with typing in all caps. If you are writing with pen and paper, how does the pen feel? Are you pressing hard onto the paper or using a softer lighter touch? If you are writing in cursive, are your letters whimsical and dancing on the page, or are they structured and methodical? All of these elements help us express ourselves through the written word. When writing a poem about breast cancer, you may want to explore topics such as: -Your experience with a particular time during your diagnosis and treatment -Your experience receiving a specific chemotherapy, the first time you went in for radiation, or waking up from surgery. -A love letter to your breasts -A breakup letter as you experience grief. Take advantage of available resources We believe firmly in the power of writing as a tool for healing and encourage you to join us and take advantage of the free programs and services we offer at SBC. Questions to ask your doctor about expressive writing for emotional health: Asking your doctor about expressive writing is a great first step in getting started with your own project. Some questions you may wish to ask: 1. What are your thoughts on using expressive writing as a tool for emotional healing? 2. What are some of the benefits of expressive writing? 3. How can I get started with my own expressive writing project? 4. Are there any resources you would recommend for further exploring expressive writing and poetry? 5. Are there any risks associated with expressive writing? 6. What should I keep in mind while I am writing? 7. Who can I talk to if I need help or support while I am writing?

By Mandy Richardson You’re too young. You don’t have a family history of cancer in women under 50—only postmenopausal. Cancer isn’t usually painful. You’re breastfeeding ; you’re healthy. All of these thoughts and more are so reassuring as a 33-year-old mom with a 6 year old and a 7 month old who had been dealing with a “stubborn clogged milk duct.” So much so, in fact, that I leaned into these reassurances despite the lump getting bigger and more painful. I saw my OBGYN in late June 2021 for what we determined to be a tricky little clogged duct. I’d noticed it about three weeks prior. I’d had clogged ducts before with my first baby. This one felt a little different, which led me to making the appointment. But after a manual exam, the nurse practitioner came to the same conclusion as me (that it was nothing to worry about). She gave me some suggestions to help massage it out and told me to call back if I got a fever. I never got a fever, so I let it go. But it kept getting bigger. I wasn’t having any issues with supply, so I wasn’t so confident that it was a clog. I scheduled my annual exam early and made that my focus. My OBGYN put me on a round of antibiotics because the lump was now quite visible on the underside of my breast and very “angry” looking. It was a 10-day course of antibiotics, but I called back after eight days when I didn’t see any improvement. When I called, I was able to finally schedule an ultrasound. The nurse practitioner was confident they could aspirate it in the office. Except they couldn’t. The image on the ultrasound showed what appeared to be a non-solid mass. I now know that it was likely just pockets of breast milk around the mass. Using the ultrasound, the nurse practitioner inserted a long needle into the mass in an attempt to drain it. The first attempt yielded only blood. So did the second. Rather than poke me full of holes, she deemed the procedure unsuccessful and decided to send me for further imaging. I was sent for a formal ultrasound, which determined the lump was solid. Still, no one mentioned the “c” word. Lactating women get benign masses all the time, I was told. So I was still pretty unphased even as we scheduled the core needle biopsy. Until four days later. The results came through the portal application on my phone, before the doctor had a chance to call me. I didn’t know what grade 3 meant. I didn’t understand the percentages listed. But I understood the word “carcinoma.” The surgeon did eventually call. I don’t remember much of the conversation, other than I had a large, aggressive tumor and an oncologist would be calling me soon. I waited two days before calling the breast center, and was told everyone was just “very busy” and that someone would call me back soon. Deciding I had done enough waiting, I let a family member pull some strings and found a new doctor. I met my new surgeon and medical oncologist the next day. They explained that my tumor was 5.7cm, and was slightly estrogen positive. They said it was behaving aggressively and more in line with triple negative breast cancer (TNBC) , and they wanted to treat it as such. Because it was so large, the plan was to do chemotherapy first. The goal for my start date was two and a half weeks, right before Thanksgiving. I didn’t know then that in some cases, people wait multiple weeks to start treatment. I asked if I would be okay waiting that long. My oncologist said that two to three weeks would be okay; two to three months would not have been. I had to schedule my PET scan, a mammogram (no one could believe that hadn’t already been done), another ultrasound, an EKG, and my chemotherapy port placement. Everything was still backed up from the pandemic shutdowns and most places were scheduling into mid-December at that point. I called and called back. I begged and cried. My husband drove me to clinics as far as almost two hours in one direction, and then back an hour in the other, just to get all of the testing done. The ultrasound suggested possible lymph node activity, and the PET detected a mass in the area of my right ovary. My oncologist ordered bloodwork. The CA 27.29 blood test, which can potentially pick up breast cancer, came back high—as expected. But she ran another, one that could suggest ovarian cancer (CA 125), and that came back elevated as well. My daughter was eleven months old at this point, and despite all attempts was still consistently refusing to take a bottle. My doctors told me that I could continue to nurse, but to be prepared to wean her. I occasionally leaked breast milk from my biopsy hole. Nursing from my left breast was painful, but I was repeatedly assured that it would not hurt my daughter. We ended up weaning her cold turkey the day of my PET scan, since my milk would not have been safe after that test. The next day I was in an appointment with a gynecologic oncologist and scheduled surgery for the following day to remove my right ovary and fallopian tubes. Because my breast cancer was so aggressive, we could not afford to delay in order to test what could possibly be on my ovary. I had my right ovary and fallopian tube removed the week before Thanksgiving. Somehow, everything came back benign. My surgeon couldn’t find a mass. No one had an explanation, though my blood work has shown normal numbers since then. I started Adriamycin/Cytoxan (AC) chemo the day before Thanksgiving, and our wonderful neighbors brought us dinner so we didn’t have to cook. My hair started falling out 13 days later, the day before round two. I did four rounds of AC, followed by 12 rounds of Taxol . After completing chemo, I was given a couple of weeks to recover and we completed new imaging in preparation for surgery. My next tests were completed at the end of April: another mammogram, ultrasound, and PET scan. My tumor had shrunk to 0.8cm! Because of that, my surgeon was able to suggest a lumpectomy, followed by radiation. During my lumpectomy the surgeon removed three suspicious lymph nodes from under my arm, and there was no sign of the cancer spreading beyond my breast! The pathology of the remaining disease came back as triple negative, so I am currently taking Xeloda, an oral chemo that is sometimes recommended for TNBC patients . It’s been a long road, but I am so glad I didn’t wait any longer than I did to get my symptoms checked out by my doctor. I have one more cycle of Xeloda and then I will hopefully be finished! When I met with my new surgeon, Dr. Melissa Camp, at Johns Hopkins Hospital on November 5, 2021, she told me to give them a year. That I would look back at this whole experience as just a speed bump that I had to get over. We are a little over a year now, with the Xeloda regimen. The experience was everything her staff, as well as my medical oncology team, said it would be. I have been able to stay mostly active, and I want to spend all of the time that I can with my husband and my girls. We have done some traveling and hope to do more. I hope to complete section hiking of the Pennsylvania section of the Appalachian Trail. But what I really want to do is pay it forward. I want young women to know that we are not immune from this awful disease, despite what statistics show. I want to provide support for women I know, as well as strangers, who are going through this, like others did for me. But I really want people to know that our best—and sometimes only—advocate is ourselves. And that we should never stop fighting for ourselves. Learn more: Managing Breast Cancer During Pregnancy and Breastfeeding Taxol for Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC) Triple Negative Breast Cancer (TNBC) in Your 20s and 30s Laura’s AC (Adriamycin and Cytoxan) Vlog Laura’s Xeloda Vlog Different Types of Breast Cancer Feature Friday: Adolescents and Young Adults (AYA) with Breast Cancer Feature Friday: Reproductive Health and Breast Cancer Thank you for sharing your story, Mandy. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Kelly Hsu My mother was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer in the winter of 2015. During this time, I was just a sophomore in high school. Everything in my life became peripheral as our family cared for her through her journey with cancer. After surgery and a grueling year of chemotherapy, she was finally cancer-free. Prior to a routine OB-GYN visit over the summer, I was sent an online screening questionnaire. This form asked me routine questions about my family history of cancer, and I provided information I knew about my mother. At my OB-GYN appointment, my physician explained the purpose of the screening questionnaire, and that based on the information I’d provided, I qualified for genetic testing . Because of my strong family history of cancer, this would be covered by my insurance. Since I was already getting labs drawn, I figured a few extra tubes of blood would not make a difference. About two weeks later, I got a phone call from a genetic counselor . She informed me that I tested positive for the BRCA2 mutation, which increases one’s predisposition to developing breast cancer. She set up a virtual appointment for us to talk. I had heard of BRCA before, on a TV show, “ The Bold Type .” In this show, the protagonist chooses to have a prophylactic double mastectomy to minimize her risk of breast cancer. Hearing and processing this news for myself was terrifying and overwhelming. Prior to my genetic counseling appointment, I pored over pages and pages of internet resources and journal articles. I obsessed over the different numbers and percentages that told me my lifetime risk of cancer, and the preventative measures that I could take to reduce or minimize my risk. I learned that my BRCA mutation increased not only my risk for breast cancer, but also ovarian cancer. In this age of digital connectedness, having an abundance of information is a great resource, but at times, can also be a tremendous burden. At my genetic counseling appointment, I listened as my counselor asked me about my understanding of my results. She began by drawing a comprehensive picture of my family tree, asking me about my family members and their different histories of cancer. She outlined the risks and management options and asked me about my preferences. This hour felt long, but after my genetic counseling appointment, I felt much more reassured and redirected in my knowledge. I knew that there was not one singular path that individuals with BRCA mutations take, and that there are different management options for a person depending on their goals and values. With my genetic counselor, I came up with a plan that would work for me. My personal plan involves getting a mammogram and breast MRI yearly, beginning when I turn 25. Genetic counseling can be expensive out-of-pocket, but many insurance companies can cover most of the cost, especially if you have a strong familial history of cancer. In my case, the company that provided my genetic testing offered free testing for my family members within 90 days of my test results. BRCA mutations are autosomal dominant mutations , which means that if an individual has the BRCA mutation, there is a 50% chance that they can pass it down to their child. My mother received genetic testing a month after I received my results, as evidence most strongly pointed to her being a carrier. Surprisingly, she was negative for the BRCA2 mutation. My father tested soon after, and results confirmed that he was the carrier of the mutation. BRCA affects men as well, and men who have the mutation have an elevated risk of breast, prostate, and pancreatic cancer. This emphasized to me how crucial it is to never make assumptions. Only through genetic testing can you confirm and truly understand everyone’s personal genetic risk . Your genetic counselor can not only help you assess your risk, but also help you understand how to communicate with close relatives who may also be at risk. Everyone has a different preference for how much information they want to know, and the decision to get genetic testing is a personal choice . However, knowledge is the best way to plan for early prevention and/or detection of cancer. Since my visit with my genetic counselor, I feel more empowered and adequately informed to plan ahead. As of now, I am set up with my local breast health center, and am scheduled to start my preventative visits in a few months. If you think that you may be eligible for genetic testing, you should speak to your physician or a genetic counselor to learn how to take the next steps. You are not alone. Your clinicians and genetic counselor can help you make informed decisions about your personal and familial risks, and help guide you as you make the most appropriate decisions for yourself and your loved ones. Learn More: Genetic counseling on the SBC podcast, Breast Cancer Conversations Genetic Testing for Cancer: What You Need to Know Breast Cancer and Genetic Testing Dear Kristen: Reassurance for Genetic Testing Living with the BRCA Gene Mutation Author bio: My name is Kelly Hsu and this is my first blog post for SBC. I am a recent graduate of Wellesley College (Class of ‘21), where I studied neuroscience. I am currently working as a Clinical Research Coordinator at the Massachusetts General Hospital Cancer Center on several patient-centered outcomes research studies. Through my experiences, I have developed passions for health education, psychosocial oncology, and palliative care. I plan to attend medical school next fall, where I hope to keep pursuing these interests. Thank you for sharing your story, Kelly. SBC loves you! SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Kelly Motley I was feeling stuck in my life, despite having a successful PR business and a wonderful family. One day I just wanted to hit something (we’ve all been there) so I did—I found a boxing class. I loved boxing so much that I hired a top-ranked professional super middleweight boxer, Sena Agbeko, and an Olympic boxing coach, Christy Halbert. I learned one of boxing’s most important principles while shadowboxing in the ring: Focus on you. You know your power. My coach talked to me about how vulnerability can be an asset. “Allow yourself to be vulnerable to create openings. You create the openings and opportunities, be willing to throw a punch, be vulnerable, act first—then when you do, effective things happen in the ring, then the opening to the body is available,” my coach told me. In the ring, my coach would say, “Sometimes a threat is disguised as an opportunity.” Shadowboxing allowed me to step out of my routine of self-judgment and self-editing to think about taking risks and creating my own experience. The principles I learned about boxing became lifesavers when I faced my most difficult fight: breast cancer. I was scheduled for a mammogram in late spring 2018. I was reluctant to go. I had disregarded the boob-flattening screening procedure as unnecessary and ridiculous, especially considering how healthy I was from training, Jeet-Kune-Do and boxing. I received a come-back-in phone call for more images, but dismissed the follow-up as just part of the healthcare system. Frustrated by the inconvenient disruption, I became even more confident that this was all a big misunderstanding, as if I had walked into the wrong party or had been placed in a high-level math class. Someone, somewhere in the healthcare ecosystem had made a big mistake. Perhaps it was in the testing process. Or maybe someone was overreacting. Being skeptical, I thought I had been randomly singled out. Motionless and sitting knee-to-knee with a radiologist afterwards, I calmly absorbed the strange words about finding tiny deposits of calcium that sometimes indicate the presence of breast cancer. She referred to them as microcalcifications. A month later, I ended up getting the recommended breast biopsy. I was at the mercy of two indifferent technicians who didn’t click, and both were enamored with their cell phones. After the breast biopsy, I couldn’t stop the unwanted calls from my doctor saying, “We need to talk…” that went to voicemail. I was annoyed by her insistent urgency. I rationalized that if I didn’t call her back, she’d pursue another patient and this just all would go away. Surely, she could see the timing for this wasn’t going to work for me. Eventually, I found myself on the phone, faced with what felt like the worst chaos imaginable. I was sweating because of the fast-talking doctor’s stream of foreign medical terms: “Biopsy path report: An early stage breast cancer that is triple positive. Breast cancer coming from the ducts of the breast, 1.4 cm, HER2neu positive. To treat cancer—surgery, chemo , plus or minus radiation; hormone blocking pills for the next five years. Surgery comes first. Lumpectomy removes that area. Spend the night in hospital and then remove cancer. Tissue expanders. Lymphoid testing during the surgery. Chemo—a lighter version with hair loss.” Reviewing the terrifying information on my computer screen, I couldn’t realize my own story presented there . None of this was plausible. I had been riding the crest of growing my business, and physically I was the strongest I had been in my life, feeling my personal power in a new way. Walking into the cancer surgeon’s waiting room with my husband John a week later, I awkwardly and passively averted eye contact with bald women brushing past me, as if by looking into their eyes I’d be desperately locked together with them. We were led into an awkward, jam-packed room with an examination table and only two chairs. I received what felt like a mechanical recitation from my doctor: the delivery of bad news, straightforward with the word “cancer” ; then some foreign medical terms, the need for surgeries, a port and 12 chemo treatments. Her precise words around the effects of chemo sounded strangely like she was singing a lyrical song, my own private version, similar to Johnny Cash’s rendition of I’ve Been Everywhere . “Persistent symptoms or treatment effects of chemo include the following: hot flashes, muscle aches, blood clots, uterine cancer, cataracts, hair loss, weight gain, nerve pain, scar tissue, decreased shoulder range of motion, chronic pain, lymphedema, neuropathy, low blood counts, decreased heart function, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, secondary malignancy, premature menopause and infertility. Chemo would damage healthy cells, causing loss of memory and cognitive abilities, my hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows. I might expect tooth decay and gum issues, mouth sores, a craving for comfort foods, nausea, constipation, and fatigue most of the time, with potential damage to kidneys, heart, liver, and lungs…” and I will have been everywhere, man . Two days before I was to start chemo, while preparing myself for what I thought would be the worst, I was blindsided. I was at my computer, right in the middle of work. The afternoon phone call came out of the blue, at a tongue-twisting speed, with sing-song urgency. It was my oncologist, and apparently, she was busy. I worked to decipher why she was calling me. She had already put the breast cancer plan in place. As I understood things, she was supposed to be my starting quarterback with all the cancer treatment plans in place, including scheduled surgery dates, a port in my chest, and the exact timing of 12 chemo treatments once a week. She’d string words together like: “We didn’t get approval from your insurance company for the recommended treatment, and we need to proceed with more aggressive drugs three times as long, with more harmful and stronger side effects.” My voice buckled as I broke the news to John in consonants and vowels, trying to form words that sounded primitive. He got on the phone immediately with our insurance company and by the end of the day, he and I had coordinated a conference call with the oncologist’s office administrator and an insurance representative.The insurance company communicated that all would be good and the oncologist’s original treatment plan would be approved. Kelly would win this battle. The link between boxing and my mind and body empowered me to shift my mindset and completely alter my cancer experience. Instead of catastrophic thinking, I started viewing cancer and chemo as manageable and achievable and acknowledging my body as capable and resilient. I found an unconventional approach to healing by finding a pre-fight boxing training plan, to minimize the side effects of chemo, with an intent to keep a healthier body and to manage the powerlessness and fear of a cancer diagnosis. I had intense training for two months before starting chemotherapy, and continued training during chemo. I had 11 rounds of chemotherapy, including Herceptin and Taxol. In addition to conventional cancer treatment, I found an unconventional way of managing the powerlessness and fear through a diet and lifestyle prescribed by Virginia Harper, an authority on healing the body through macrobiotic food. Right away I had to strengthen my immune system, increase iron intake, support my digestion and inflammatory markers with a goal to alkalize my blood, calm my nervous system and increase my Yang energy to balance estrogen and progesterone. A macrobiotic diet is a strict diet that aims to reduce toxins. It involves eating whole grains and vegetables and avoiding foods high in fat, salt, sugar, and artificial ingredients. Meat, sugar, poultry, dairy, caffeine, alcohol, eggs, bread, and carbonated beverages would go away. Raw vegetables were forbidden, along with tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant, and peppers. I was to avoid vegetable juices, alcohol, sparkling mineral waters, cold drinks, and sugared or stimulant beverages. I would cook only with gas and use pots and pans made of stainless steel, ceramic, or cast iron. All my new meals were prepared via boiling, steaming, or sautéeing with oil. I trained myself to learn a new way of slicing, moving away from the old haphazard way of chopping vegetables. I’d need to incorporate new behaviors around chewing my food slowly and telling myself repeatedly that my body is in the healing space , while thinking about and visualizing how each bite would heal me. I would take so many supplements that I felt like a pharmacist. It was through boxing and this macrobiotic diet that my soul was in perfect order right before my first big surgery: a double mastectomy. My thoughts were not scattered, and I was not startled by what I was getting ready to go through. Anchored by my pre-fight strategy, I started seeing myself in a state of progress rather than as a mess. It felt as if I’d done something miraculous. I was no longer crawling, operating from a place of fear and allowing it to direct my decisions, as I had before my surgeries and chemo. While studying my form in the mirror and jumping rope, I realized my training had toughened me up, my body was stronger than ever, and mentally, I had my approach in place. After jumping rope for 10 minutes straight without tripping once, the reality set in—I’d come a long way. I was pleasantly surprised that all the good stuff I had been doing for myself to get through the anguish of the past two months had paid off. In the two months between my diagnosis and my double mastectomy, I was in a boxer’s meditative training state as it related to my workout and the trauma my body was about to endure. Frozen in this moment, the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle found their correct positions. I had found peace and contentment. I knew I was ready to be in the ring. My eyes and body adjusted to something better. My body showed that it would not betray me. I had abandoned my established ways of being. Getting my body clean would be perfectly timed with surgery and chemo. I ended up with a Strep B infection in my port. There was a sudden reversal of course, minutes before what was to be my double mastectomy surgery. Calmly, sweetly standing over me, my plastic surgeon raised a red flag, sharing the news that there would be no surgery today. My white blood cell count was elevated from its usual three to 17. My body was fighting an infection. After eventually proceeding with my mastectomy, I had my final breast reconstruction surgery (fat grafting) in December 2019. Since then, my hair has grown back to its original length but in spiral curls that I never had before. I’m still strength training and practicing Jeet Kune Do with my coach, Richard. I’ve taken up dance again after 30 years, and also weight lifting inspired by my son, Alex. I am a survivor, one whose arms were held overhead alongside countless other survivors and others impacted by cancer; one who knows I can tackle the worst and still rise victorious, waiting for the victory bell inside the boxing ring of my journey. After being hit so hard, I had to pick myself back up and avoid the dreaded 10 count. I needed healing, I needed to get back in the ring and show life that I was not done, not knocked out in the final round like so many before me. Cancer is a formidable adversary. You never really win against cancer. You hope for a draw, to fight another time, to train and battle and be ready, if you have to return to the ring again. You are ready. Boxing has taught me discipline, greater awareness and an approach to life that requires a commitment to process. It demands mental, physical and spiritual fitness. It is grueling and exhausting, but it ultimately prepares you for the fight for your life. Learn more: My First Ironman Exercise and Breast Cancer Exercise is Good for Everybody Tips to Manage Chemotherapy Side Effects SBC Resources for the Newly Diagnosed Thank you for sharing your story, Kelly. SBC loves you! Follow Kelly on Instagram and Facebook SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Sara Kandler I bookend my days with the pop of a tiny white powder sphere toward the back of my throat then a gush of cool water. And you, I ask my friends, don’t you feel different? How do you process so much time past and balance on the slender edge of an entirely new universe? They appear stumped. So I meander on, turning over smooth grey rocks in the garden in hope of a hidden message (my mom’s whimsical “hello” and “stay cool” stones giggle from my kitchen windowsill) and stare up at the mysteriously amber stars in the deep winter sky. Follow Sara on Medium Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Brookshire McDonald I thought I was being smart And so you see, I started planning for Christmas As early as could be. With six children And spouses, too, There’s a lot of gifting For me to do. In addition I have 15 grands And a brother I love very much. I think of their personal passions To keep me well in touch. With iPad in hand And thoughts in mind, I begin my orders Including one of a kind. Then I search for flights To join daughter and family. Three of my grands are there Waiting their GeeGee to see. The month goes by Sorta fast, And Christmas Eve has arrived; ‘Tis here at last. Suitcase gifts from GeeGee Is a grandma tradition; So off I go With this addition. Arriving at the airport two hours early As directed, I soon found an adventure I had not expected. I settled in At my designated gate, Soon to find out My plane was late. I checked the schedule board As often as I could, But nothing was improving As it should. So there I sat Hour in and hour out While passengers Were mulling all about. In the meantime I met a couple of men Waiting for the exact same flight. The rescuer I am I thought about Taking them home for the night. My children I could hear In the back of my mind, M-O-T-H-E-R it could not be safe To be so kind. Two of my children Began to text “Go home; go home You don’t know what’s next.” You could get stuck in Orlando Four days or more Never making it to Birmingham That’s for “Shore.” Spending Christmas with alligators Was not a good thought, Because what about my grandchildren And the gifts I had bought? Heeding their advice To the baggage claim I went; A baggage claim was printed, And to the handlers was sent. They retrieved my luggage Off the cart at the cargo door. I was lucky to get mine As there were hundreds more. At the same time As I was stuck, My daughter’s family was in Colorado Trying their luck. They were trying To get home to Birmingham, too To host This planned Christmas to-do. Planes before and after theirs Were canceled that night; But a “Board now” Was announced for their flight. They arrived home And crawled into bed Just before Santa Appeared on his sled. After a night of being All nestled and snug Christmas morn began by screams of There’s water coming down on the rug! The ceiling began to stain And about to fall, As water continued to drip All down the hall. The water was turned off To stop the flood; And thus began Christmas Day Not as it should. Back at home Where I did retrieve Urgent care was my next step Back spasms to relieve. Seven hours sitting at the airport Had taken its toll But maybe not as bad as my daughter’s house Now growing mold. Yes as I said maybe It was meant to be; I was not in the midst Of their fiasco, you see. The next week I did go there With GeeGee gifts still packed For grands to share. I’m sure they were more appreciative Than alligators would be. And I hope the two men had as good a late Christmas As did “me”! Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dawn Oswald Lymphedema What is it? Lymph is a colorless fluid, but I see black Edema is excess fluid in my arm, which I see red How angry I feel Why did I get it? Was I chosen for a reason? Did the cancer cause it? Yes, the cancer spread I did not deserve it Neither do you I don’t want it Be angry Get mad Do something about it Someone help me Can it be helped? Yes, it can be Helped by angels Touched by the angel’s hands An angel to perform a procedure Whatever the help you need, get it Do not let lymphedema ruin your life Take back your life Get your arm back Back to normal Normal as it can be Do the things you used to do You win by getting the right help The right therapist The right surgeon The right equipment You fight for you I did Fight for your independence You deserve it You deserve to be happy again Free from pain and deformity Free from losing your independence Get help I did Now I am back to being me Mrs. Independence Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Sara Kandler Valet parking, thank God steady now glass doors, sign-in line, Covid check we’re good we’re fine find a wheelchair hands grip tight tell graveyard jokes in fight or flight me in my bold print dress flying along you in your sporty sweats one arm out strong a lifeline from the second floor dangling the carousel’s golden ring Get admitted like it’s Harvard no ruby tee or ivied yard but endless beige and sallow walls bland maze of musty stalls floor sweepers, bed changers, pulse takers injectors, inspectors in green or blue color-coded costumes never once explained to you then the leads dash through drab curtains bleached white pockets cursive names say hey there, Sam or Jane no shame sling shot slung around the neck hearing hearts, scanning charts giving orders, signing off Ninety, sure, but I don’t see why he would say no to giving chemo a try there’s no guarantee (I’m not gonna lie) he could surprise us all teach class again this fall sunlight jars fumes from the car fold you in after journeying far to a clinical galaxy me, your novice proxy and settle you home too often alone long mahogany table newspapers strewn glasses, meds, radio a tall mug of decaf tea — It was worth it, Dad, see? Follow Sara Kandler: https://medium.com/@sarakandler Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

Have you ever noticed how Desperation sucks the oxygen Right out of a room, And yields a vacuum, devoid of space? What then? A noisy projection of anguish, torment and pain, Has you sliding softly along the hardwood floor Normalcy but a scant memory. In the moment - self discussion. Giving way to comprehensive dissatisfaction. A benign questioning A malignancy that shouldn’t be there A radical diffusion, The intermingling of tumor and tissue. Oh, but you do matter! Way too many underestimate the power of Purpose, passion and perspective. In due course it becomes necessary to Distance and separate yourself From those whose inspiration and motivation Run contrary to your own. Your life, your contribution to this world matters. YOU, matter…

By Donna Valentine, PA-C I have never had breast cancer, although it’s played a role in my daily life for over two decades. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. My career path as a Physician Assistant (PA) was introduced to me in the spring of 1999, when I was fortunate enough to do a clinical rotation in breast surgery at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. I knew the moment I stepped into the operating room with one of the premier breast surgeons in the country that I had found my passion in taking care of breast cancer patients. I liked assisting in surgery, but I loved helping breast cancer patients navigate their journey through an overwhelming and scary time. I’m an intuitive listener and have a fairly calm demeanor, and I knew I could make a difference in assisting their overall physical and emotional healing. I returned to school in California and declared my goal of specializing as a PA in breast cancer! My classmates and professors insisted I would never find a job in that field because it was too subspecialized. How wrong they were. After graduation, I spent five solid years working with a dynamic forward-thinking team of breast surgeons , assisting in surgery and patient after-care, educating patients on their diagnosis and options. In this, we saved hundreds of lives and affected thousands of others through their loved ones, because a person never goes through this alone. Cancer is a crab, reaching out in all directions of a person’s life, touching everyone who is close. Toward the end of my tenure in surgery (I had decided to change my focus to Medical Oncology), I received a call from my older sister Diane. She had been having some breast changes and the radiologists wanted to do a biopsy. “They think it’s cancer,” she said. And unfortunately, it was. My role as a PA for my patients would now include the role of caregiver for my sister with that one phone call. I’m not a believer in coincidence, but it wasn’t always that way. So I didn’t think twice when during my rotation at MD Anderson I came across Susan G. Komen founder Nancy Brinker’s book The Race Is Run One Step at a Time . It’s about the legacy she built to honor her sister Suzy, who passed away from breast cancer. The story resonated with me, and at the time I wasn’t sure why, but it was one of the reasons I became so interested in working with breast cancer patients. I would find out later that the story about her experience with her sister would be similar to Diane’s and mine. Not a coincidence. While Diane was going through the surgical portion of her treatment, I was still working in surgery. When she started her chemotherapy, I had already begun working with an oncologist. In retrospect, her treatment matched my career transition in a way that seemed “planned.” I would travel to northern California to go to appointments with her and help navigate her treatment and aftercare with her doctors. Walking the tightrope between taking care of my patients and being there for my sister took its toll on me — primarily because before starting chemotherapy, Diane’s body scans had shown the cancer had metastasized to her bones. Stage 4 breast cancer. In 2004, the prognosis for this was not good. Giving her hope every day came with a heavy burden of knowing what the ultimate outcome would be. My heart was breaking, but I wasn’t going to show it. Couldn’t show it. I needed her and my family to be strong. There were good times and bad times through her treatment, and then there were really, really bad times. And like Nancy Brinker’s sister Suzy, Diane passed after a three-year battle with breast cancer. Every day I was there for her, and I held her hand as she left this world. I saw and felt her fight. I still feel my own fight after 17 years, and I miss her every day. I consider myself a co-survivor because I discovered a strength in this fight and as difficult as it was, scars and all, I would repeat it again and again to help my big sister during the toughest and scariest part of her life. Donna (left) and her sister Diane (right). After Diane died, I did a lot of soul searching. But unlike Nancy Brinker, I did not start a global movement to end breast cancer. What I did do was continue taking care of breast cancer one person at a time. For another seven years I continued to work in medical oncology. Because of my journey with my sister through her breast cancer fight, I am a much more empathetic and compassionate clinician from a place of knowing. I engage with my patients and their families better. I am equipped to say the “right” things — which I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t always do prior to Diane’s diagnosis. There are times when a patient begins to cry in my exam room. Something I did or said allowed them to let their fear and anxiety out. It’s then I know I’m doing something right. They feel safe. Safe enough to let their feelings out — sometimes for the first time. And that release is so important to the healing process. The beginning really. I continued to work in medical oncology for a few years until I received an opportunity to be involved in another part of the breast cancer experience — survivorship. For six years I specialized in caring for cancer survivors from a primary care aspect. I managed my patients’ overall health; their high blood pressure, diabetes, elevated cholesterol, low thyroid, depression, anxiety, etc. All the while, I was taking into consideration their previous cancer, their specific treatments and all that entailed for them as a survivor physically and emotionally. It was during this time that I became very interested in ways of helping the emotional anxiety that cancer survivors experience. I feel it’s the most debilitating thing about having cancer that never goes away completely. I was so tired of writing prescriptions for anti-anxiety and anti-depression medications. I hated that my patients were living on these pills and needing more and more to get relief. I started exploring more complimentary ways of dealing with the emotional component of cancer, and what at the time I considered a type of PTSD (since then, there have been articles written about just that). I spoke to my patients about the benefits of therapy , meditation , mindfulness and gratitude work and movement therapies like Tai Chi and yoga . I also learned and shared more about nutrition , functional genetics that put some people more at risk for anxiety, and the importance of sleep on our overall emotional and physical health. Some of my patients embraced these things, and some did not. Getting people (cancer survivors or not) to take care of themselves is a difficult task in our society. There are a lot of things that get in the way — such as time, money, energy, all of which can be hard to come by these days. Diane (left) and Donna (right). People often ask if I chose to work with breast cancer due to my sister’s diagnosis. My response is: before my sister even had breast cancer I was guided in that direction. And I believe it was because my sister and my family would need me there at that brief moment in time. No coincidence there. The remainder of my work has been for others. And if I can be honest, for me. Because I am rewarded every day by helping my patients and their loved ones move through breast cancer. I am now back to my roots working as a surgical PA — so I’ve made a full clinical circle of a breast cancer patient’s experience. Treatments have vastly changed and improved over the last two decades. More people are surviving this dreaded disease, and I look forward to someone putting me out of business by finding a cure. But until then, I will be a dedicated caregiver of cancer survivors, hand-holder and hugger during good times and grief, educator, and advocate of all things that can be done to live a happier, healthier, and better life than ever before breast cancer. Diane. Be Well & Happy. Donna Valentine Learn More: Newly Diagnosed with MBC MBC Meetup Cancer Caregivers: Contending with Change Therapy and Breast Cancer Say Their Names SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events