By Alicia Henry Harris Facing a cancer diagnosis  during pregnancy is a rare and challenging experience that can impact both your health and your unborn child’s well-being. The journey of managing cancer while pregnant  is filled with unique obstacles, affecting your emotional and physical resilience.  Concerns about how cancer treatment might affect not only your health but also the well-being of your baby and your future fertility are natural. My husband and I personally underwent this journey when I was diagnosed 14 weeks into my pregnancy .  I had no symptoms ; it all started from a routine check-up with my OB. She asked if I wanted to check my breasts, and I agreed. She felt something, but thought it could just be milk coming in. To be cautious, she ordered a sonogram. After the sonogram, they ordered a biopsy, and that’s when I received the diagnosis: invasive ductal carcinoma , ER/PR positive, HER2 negative, grade 3. We scheduled surgery a couple of weeks later and did a lumpectomy when I was 16 weeks pregnant. I started chemotherapy during my third trimester , just before being induced, and continued with more chemo after my baby was born, followed by radiation. My doctor recommended the TC chemotherapy regimen with both docetaxel (Taxotere) and cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan). It was an intense journey, but having faith and a plan helped me focus on both my health and my baby’s well being. My experience being pregnant while battling cancer was a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, I was filled with the joy of expecting my baby, but on the other hand, I was terrified of what the diagnosis meant for both of us . Every decision about treatment carried the weight of not just my health, but my unborn child’s well-being. Chemotherapy while pregnant felt overwhelming, and I constantly wondered if I was making the right choice to protect my daughter. There were so many questions and fears: whether the baby would be born healthy, how my body would handle the treatment while pregnant , and what the future held for both of us. But through it all, I had an incredible support system  and medical team that monitored me and the baby closely, which helped me feel secure in my decisions.  All this was very hard to go through during the postpartum period, but I got through it. There were moments when the exhaustion felt unbearable, but having my family and medical team  by my side made a huge difference. My husband , my faith, and a strong support system of friends and loved ones  helped me get through the toughest days. Simple things like walking, meditation , and studying helped me stay grounded. I also found comfort talking with a counselor.  In the end, I was blessed with a healthy baby girl who I named Journi , symbolizing the transformative journey we embarked on together. It was during this experience that my mission crystallized: to support and empower other expectant mothers facing a similar challenge. I want them to know that it is feasible to navigate pregnancy alongside treatment and still bring forth a healthy, joyful baby . I want every mother in this situation to understand that they need not face this journey alone. It’s possible to navigate pregnancy and cancer treatment simultaneously, emerging with both a healthy child and renewed strength.  When my daughter Journi was born healthy, it was the most beautiful moment hearing her cry for the first time . Surviving cancer while bringing her into the world made me even more passionate about supporting other mothers going through similar battles. That experience inspired me to start Journi for Two, my nonprofit, to ensure no mother faces the journey alone. My aspiration to establish this foundation stems from the resilience and hope that guided me through my own journey. By sharing my story, I aim to provide a source of inspiration and information for pregnant mothers undergoing cancer treatment . Together, we can navigate this challenging path and emerge with strength, courage, and the belief that a positive outcome is attainable. At Journi for Two, our mission is to support mothers battling cancer with practical help and heartfelt care. We have a support group and community for mothers to connect along with providing hope baskets filled with essentials, and offer services like counseling, childcare, cleaning, and food. We also offer free breast exams to the community at our events.  Our work is now expanding internationally, and we’re excited about our recent trip to Washington, D.C., where Congresswoman Kathy Castor invited us to the White House and Capitol, and chose me as a survivor to play in the Congressional Women’s Softball Game. We have some wonderful events coming up, including free breast and health exams. I also speak at various events across Florida to raise awareness and advocate for mothers with cancer, especially those who are pregnant or have young children. We’re truly excited about the future and the chance to make a difference in many lives. Connect with Alicia on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/journifortwo Read More: Breast Cancer and Fertility Breast Cancer and Pregnancy: Managing Health for Mother and Baby I Found The Lump Myself Nurse Navigators: Your Guide Through Treatment Supporting Loved Ones with Breast Cancer: How to Offer Meaningful Help On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Parenting with Metastatic Breast Cancer Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Elizabeth Allen Dear Northern California, I was just passing through and I wanted to thank you. Thank you for your doctors, artists, nurses  and researchers, oh and your clam chowder, famous wine, windy ocean and magical forests. I’ve always felt rather possessive of Northern California, and without any personal connection. In my early twenties I felt sure I would move here, having never even seen it (obviously never did). In my thirties I thought I might retire here, “maybe Petaluma,” I said confidently after a few days in wine country. I think now, it was a foreshadowing of this unforgettable interlude. Perhaps if this place hadn’t already called me for years, I might have missed a beautiful opportunity. My visit is more specific than I implied. I came here to get a little help in healing my breast cancer, but I do so love to wax on poetically, I hope you didn’t mind. I’m convalescing in a cabin in the redwoods in the Russian River Valley. All of my recent memories crowd for attention, but let me collect myself and start at the beginning.  I was laying in bed one night with my arm thrown across my chest when I realized my hand was perched on top of my breast like a little bird. I tapped it and it was hard. I tapped the other and it wasn’t. I felt alarm shoot through me. I decided I should just casually have a mammogram four years late and not mention it to my husband. Of course the tech saw micro-calcifications and a cascade of events unfolded. I was sent to a breast clinic for an ultrasound/biopsy which landed me in a virtual meeting with a local surgeon who wanted to do a lumpectomy. It was too fast. I requested a physical exam which led to an MRI, which revealed a mass twice the size they had originally estimated… so she revised her plan to a mastectomy, which drove me to find a second opinion  offering a complicated option, which borrowed me enough time to scour the internet for my diagnosis, ductal carcinoma in situ  (DCIS).  Ductal carcinoma in situ is one of the most treatable/curable breast cancers , but mine had concerning characteristics. It was high-grade DCIS, I had a large (greater than 5 cm) palpable mass and abundant T-cell infiltration, it was hormone receptor negative (less than 1%) and Her2 positive, and I was diagnosed under age 45. In DCIS, all roads of progress lead to Dr. Laura Esserman, the director of the Breast Care Center at UCSF. And so I came. She taught me to count chickens before they hatch, so you can always count them, and she convinced me that she’s possibly more curious than even I am.  Her curiosity has led her to the doors of those who hold the money to fund research . Her late-night phone calls with me were filled with all of the possible scenarios racing through her mind to find the key to the sometimes-miraculous cures with immunotherapy , and sometimes complete resistance. While my curiosity led me to her, it was no match for the curiosity that led her to head a research team with 20 interns, all racing to explore the viability of scenarios. I do rather hope her children read this story and decide who will take one for the team and give her the grandchild she deserves… but I was overjoyed to become patient number 9 of 11 in the third arm of her clinical trial  to treat DCIS with intratumoral immunotherapy injections (mRNA-2752). I made three quick trips to San Francisco and then one long trip after the trial to have surgery to remove and donate my tumor to research and get my dream “four babies later”: breast reduction.  When surgery time came, I brought my family and we wandered all over San Francisco a few days beforehand, experiencing its charm. One day at the Embarcadero, I scanned a local photographer’s work when he noticed me connecting with one. It was a shot he had taken of a painting of a doctor done by a famous street artist with live pigeons flocking around the painting. He pointed at the doctor and said, “Who is this?” I said, “God?” He said, “Yes, and who are these?” now pointing at the pigeons. I said, “People?” He said, “Yes, the people come to God for help.” I had felt God guiding me through this entire health journey without question, but the timing of this man’s natural affirmation warmed me. He flipped to a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge. He said, “Do you see the clouds and the sun together in this photo?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “This was a golden moment, it never happens.”  I thought about my upcoming surgery, with two of the very best breast surgeons in America caring for me in tandem, improving my odds of a favorable outcome and reducing my surgery recovery exponentially . It was more lucky than a golden moment. I bought the photographs, moved by the divine appointment, treasuring the mementos of my pilgrimage to San Francisco.  Two days later, I was sitting in pre-op. My very well-known plastic surgeon, Dr. Robert Foster, arrived with about five female interns and told me they would be observing. I nodded seriously and announced they would see a great example of ptosis today, and the observers erupted in laughter while the doctor merely shot me a glance with a glint of humor.  Dr. Foster knelt down in front of me, collapsing his giant frame to accommodate my short stature, and drew diamonds on me. “My husband will be thrilled with diamond-shaped areolas!” I crowed. Again the girls all laughed, and he remained undistracted. I asked him if his job is easier when women are 5’ 10” and he paternally smiled and said “It’s OK, I’m adaptable.”  The girls were clearly a captive audience, so I continued my comedy act. I said, “You know when I met with a plastic surgeon in Denver, he was a tall gorgeous man from Greece with a very attractive accent. He examined and measured my breasts in a very clinical, professional way, but he kept saying ‘ptosis’ to the nurse taking notes, so I finally asked what it meant. He said, ‘Excellent question, I’m measuring the sag of your breasts.’ I gazed into the middle distance and thought, ’This is a moment.’” The girls were now helpless with giggles, but Dr. Foster remained the consummate gentleman and finished with great precision, giving me only an enigmatic smile. It appeared my show was over so I bid them all farewell. When Dr. Laura Esserman (The Singing Surgeon) blazed in, she had been listening to the song I chose for her to sing me to sleep with, and she was all in a tizzy. She burst out, “Elizabeth, he dies! You aren’t going to die!” I smilingly feigned ignorance of her implication and said, “I’ve always been a fan of tragic romance.” She wrestled for a moment with my absurd song choice and declared, “Well, the tumor will die! Felina it is.” They wheeled me into operating room 11, put a mask over my face, and Dr. Laura started singing a song my father had sung to me hundreds of times. Without warning, grief filled my chest and tears ran down my cheeks as I mourned the man who cancer had taken from me over a decade ago without a fair fight. Dr. Laura tenderly wiped my tears with the corner of a blanket while she sang and then I was asleep. What happens in the OR stays in the OR, unless you find tape on your forehead and grow curious enough to read the surgery notes. Apparently they do all kinds of things with you, even putting you in a sitting position during surgery, which is quite funny to me, but I came out with prettier breasts than I’ve ever had, thanks to the magic hands of Dr. Foster, so who am I to question these mysteries? At my request, Dr. Laura sent me a picture of what appeared to be a chunk of burnt chicken that evening (it had dye on it). I sat in my hospital room and gazed at the offending object, intrigued by its grisly shape. As I looked more intently, I realized that I knew those curves. After tracing it for six months with my fingertips, begging it to shrink, melt, die or crumble, it was a very familiar enemy indeed. It was right where it belonged: in the hands of a doctor with a team of researchers determined to unlock its secrets. At present, we await the final pathology  so Dr. Esserman can create my future treatment plan. We don’t want radiation to disrupt the lymphocytes being stimulated by the immunotherapy to prevent future cancer, so it will be groundbreaking stuff and I love it. Despite a background noise of people who questioned the process, God took me down a path less traveled with a handful of other women.  Dr. Esserman inspired me by stating a bold goal: to put herself out of business as an oncology surgeon. My experience with cancer became a thing of purpose, to contribute to progress in medicine. I also left a little piece of me (that looks like burnt chicken) to pave the way for the women who come behind me so they can experience a cure without a knife. I’m just passing through. Thanks for the memories and the perky little boobies, No-Cal. I’ll be back soon.  Read More: Ductal Carcinoma in Situ (“Stage Zero” Breast Cancer): What You Need To Know Immunotherapy Response Monitoring in Patients with Breast Cancer Why a Second Opinion Matters for Breast Cancer On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Building a Strong Relationship Between Patients and Their Medical Team Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

About #takeahike 2023 Join us for the biggest fundraiser of the year! Tell Cancer To Go #TakeAHike Fundraiser on October 15th! 🎗️ 🌟 Get Ready to Make a Difference, One Step at a Time! 🌟 📅 Date: October 15th, 2023 🏞️ Location: Anywhere You Are - Nationwide and Across the globe. Get Your Gear! Are you ready to lace up your hiking boots or put on your walking shoes? October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and we're inviting you to be part of something truly special - the Tell Cancer To Go #TakeAHike fundraiser! 🌎 The Idea 🌎 We understand that our supporters are spread across the United States and the globe. That's why we're introducing a unique and inclusive concept for this year's Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Here's how it works: 👟 Step 1: On October 15th, you can spearhead a hike or a walk in your local neighborhood or nearby scenic area. Whether you prefer a leisurely stroll through the park or a challenging mountain hike, the choice is yours! 👥 Step 2: This is a peer-to-peer fundraising opportunity! You can form your own teams or join an existing team. And guess what? It's completely FREE to sign up and get started. Rally your friends, family, and colleagues to join your team. 💌 Step 3: Reach out to your network and ask for their support. We believe in the power of the grapevine - as your friends and family get involved, they'll connect with even more people who want to join the cause. 📢 The Logistics 📢 Ready to get started? Here are some essential links to help you on your #TakeAHike journey: 🌐 Fundraiser Page: https://givebutter.com/zs07EP - Sign up, create or join a team, and start fundraising today! 🛒 Purchase Swag: https://www.bonfire.com/takeahikecancer/ - Show your support with exclusive #TakeAHike merchandise. 📚 Once you’ve registered, you will be invited to join our #TakeAHike Private Facebook Group to connect with fellow participants, share stories, and get updates. 🎥 On October 15th, We Hike (or Walk)! 🎥 Get ready for an incredible day of unity and awareness. We'll have a live stream featuring participants from all over, and we'll be sharing inspiring pictures from all of our destinations. Together, we'll create a powerful sense of community and spread breast cancer awareness far and wide. This is your chance to make a tangible difference in the fight against breast cancer. Let's step up, step out, and step together towards a world without breast cancer. Join us for the Tell Cancer To Go #TakeAHike fundraiser on October 15th, and let's hike our way to a brighter, healthier future! 💖🚶‍♀️🚶‍♂️ Together, we can make every step count. 🌸 #TakeAHikeCancer

By Verity Lester On June 26, 2024 I woke at 3:00 in the morning with pains in my left breast . I squeezed my breast to stop it from hurting and discovered a small lump next to my areola. I woke my husband three hours later, and he confirmed he could feel the lump. As it was a public holiday, I waited until the following Tuesday to get a GP appointment. My doctor referred me to St George’s Hospital Tooting, to the two-week wait (2WW) scheme. I phoned them on the Friday of the same week I saw my doctor, querying I had heard nothing. They said that unfortunately it would be much longer than two weeks’ wait, and I wouldn’t be seen before July 4 at the earliest. I went private and saw a breast specialist  at Parkside Hospital Wimbledon; he promptly sent me for an ultrasound. The radiologist said that the ultrasound showed an irregular shape with a diameter of 15 mm , which should be biopsied. On June 4, I had a core biopsy, which was very painful despite the numbing injection. It left a horrific bruise across my breast for weeks. On June 12 I was referred back to the NHS at St George’s. I was diagnosed with stage 2, grade 2 invasive ductal carcinoma . My cancer was ER positive and HER2 equivocal , so I would have to wait another week for results . I was advised to go on our 29th wedding anniversary trip to Rhodes and the breast consultant would contact me the following Wednesday to tell me if I was HER2 positive or negative. In the meantime, he scheduled me for a lumpectomy and lymph node biopsy on July 4, unless my cancer was HER2 positive  – then he would cancel the biopsy and start with chemotherapy to shrink it. The surgery would be exactly 3 weeks from my breast cancer diagnosis . On June 19 I found out I was HER2 negative , so the lumpectomy and lymph node biopsy went ahead on July 4. So here I am with my M&S post-op bra on, two surgical bandages on my left breast from the lumpectomy and node removal/biopsy. I had a bad reaction to the anesthetic and was dizzy and sick, but each day I’m feeling a bit stronger. Lying on my back to sleep is hard, and I have sharp pains where the surgery was. I had my follow-up on July 17 to find out what the lump size is, if it has spread to my auxiliary node and surrounding tissue, and what treatment is in store for me next. I learned that I have an Oncotype DX score of 30, and I will have 8 rounds of chemotherapy starting on August 21. I’m mostly strong and optimistic, but I have bouts of depressing thoughts. I find meditation  and deep breathing a great help. Read More: Why a Second Opinion Matters for Breast Cancer Newly Diagnosed. Now What? Different Types of Breast Cancer Understanding Your Pathology Report On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Michelle Sandlin, Living Her Best Life with BRCA 1 Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Adrienne Kapstein On my morning trudge to the subway the other day, I passed a poster of an assorted group of cool, edgy musicians. One celebrity posed wearing an outfit with an artfully placed pastie of what appeared to be duct tape, but on further reflection, was probably leather, over her nipple. Apart from the nipple being concealed, the rest of her breast was visible. Did the fact that the nipple was covered mean her breast wasn’t fully revealed, I wondered?  Facebook will sometimes censor posts that show breasts with nipples, but doesn’t censor images on the double mastectomy group of which I am a member. A group where brave women share pictures of themselves post-surgery, nippleless, with scars in their place. Do the Facebook monitors consider these not  to be breasts if there is no nipple?  A brief survey of Western art history reveals endless depictions of breasts with nipples suckled,(1) bitten, tweaked, pinched, poked, groped, squeezed , sniffed, twiddled, delicately draped and yet fully revealed. Is the nipple what makes a breast, a breast? I’m asking because 11 months to the day I am writing this, I lost my breasts. That sounds careless. 11 months to the day, my breasts were taken from me. That doesn’t sound quite right either. They weren’t stolen, in fact; much to my horror, I had to grant permission. 11 months to the day, my breasts were removed. There. As cold and ruthless as it sounds. 7 months and 19 days ago I had “exchange” surgery to replace temporary “expanders” that stretch the muscles with implants. I was not a candidate for a nipple-sparing mastectomy, and so they were removed too. Now, almost a year out, I am left with the decision “to nipple, or not to nipple.” The visible breast is made up of the nipple and areola. The English word areola  comes from the Latin areola , diminutive of area  – open space. An open space . This captures how I feel right now. Inhabiting an open space. Existing in the open space between the before and after of cancer; the open space between mourning the body I had for 48 years , and accepting a new one. The open space between having a breast mound, but no nipple. And therefore, the open space between, do I really have breasts, or not?  Diagnosed  with   invasive ductal carcinoma  and with the pre-existing condition of lobular carcinoma in situ (LCIS) (which is not considered cancer, but are cells with a high chance of becoming malignant), I was given the excruciating choice to opt for a lumpectomy and radiation or a mastectomy . It feels like an impossible task to try and remember the avenues of research and self-reflection and anxiety and sadness  I navigated during that time. So, to avoid that and summarize: There was no way of knowing how large an area of breast would need to be removed by lumpectomy, and with small breasts and the location of the cancer, I feared major physical deformation. Radiation would further complicate things – damage the skin and shrink the remaining breast tissue. Additionally, with the LCIS diagnosis, there was the strong possibility that more cancer would develop (I had already had 5 biopsies before the cancer was found), and my breast and skin would be significantly compromised with radiation, possibly meaning that I might not have the choice for reconstruction if needed in the future. After much agonizing, I made a decision I never would have dreamed of making. In fact, previous thoughts of mastectomies gave me visceral adverse reactions that made me feel physically ill. Jump-cut in time and emotion: I now have implants. Although the surgeries   went smoothly, I healed fast, and every medical professional compliments me on how “good it looks,” I have what can be best described as Barbie boobs. Too hard, too round, and nippleless. (Spell check does not  like this word. Well spell check, neither do I.) But without nipples, my breasts are blank. When I see myself naked, I feel a little like an alien. Wearing a bra helps because it hides the missing part and tricks my brain. Almost a year out from dealing with cancer, I’m picking up the pieces and trying to understand and come to terms with my new body. I have learned that there are tattoos one can get that create the optical illusion of an areola and nipple. From the pictures I have seen, they are convincing. But the “open space” between this illusion and the reality is that the breast surface is still flat and the very nippley nature (take that, spell check) of nipples – and especially how mine were – are to protrude, to point.  There is also the option of getting a nipple constructed, but I fear that although they would indeed stick out, the proverbial ‘open space’ here would be that the shape of the implant can never change. It is blunted. It is round, yes, but without the teardrop shape – the breast shape forever captured in the champagne cups made from Marie Antoinette’s breasts (and yes, I know breasts come in all shapes and sizes) – it just doesn’t look like a breast.  I had what I feel were particularly un-American breasts. They were small, sloping, with unruly proud nipples. (Sure, sometimes they were embarrassing, but I liked them poking out. I’m pretty much a rule follower, but my nipples weren’t. They did what they wanted and they felt slightly subversive. And therefore, sexy.) My husband   used to call them “French boobies.” They were not the size or shape seen on television , or for the majority of the bras on the racks. They didn’t fit into what is deemed desirable – in fact, that was made hurtfully clear when a brilliant but indelicate breast surgeon at Memorial Sloan Kettering told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t a candidate for “nipple sparing” because of ptosis . In layman’s terms, my sloping French boobies were considered droopy. But I was happy with them, and I loved my nipples. So, now I wonder, will adding a fake nipple – a protrusion – onto a flattened surface just seem like putting a cherry on top of an ice cream scoop? Will it give me what I miss, or make me miss it more? And then there is the open space that exists between having and feeling; and between seeing and believing. I have no sensation in my breasts. I have, but do not feel; I see, but it is hard to believe. This is the cruelest part of it all. What was once a part of me that would feel the pressure and warmth of another body when I hugged them, or where I gather my children – my youngest at a petite 10 years old still comes to chest height; the place where I used to love the feel of my husband’s rough hands on the softest skin on my body, now has no feeling at all. The dissonance is hard to explain – I can see that they are there, but without sensing them, in some way it is almost like they don’t exist.    Whether I opt for tattoos or nipple construction, or both, I’ll never regain sensation. Although it has barely been a year and I am aware of still moving through various stages of adjustment – this narrative being the attempt to articulate one moment of that undertaking – I wonder if I am avoiding the nipple question as the last step toward it all being over and fixed and finished, this cancer journey, I mean. When I know deep down that all of those things are not and will never be true. It is over, but it could recur; it is fixed, but I am forever altered; it is not finished , even though it feels like the world has forgotten and moved on. Maybe by inhabiting this open space, I am allowing myself to postpone the inevitable – acceptance.  But there are two words, so similar to areola  that they could be confused as being related. Aureola  from the Latin aureolus  means golden, splendid and aureole  (via Middle English from Latin) means  halo: “a circle of light or brightness surrounding something.” So maybe instead of thinking of the open space where my nipples once were, I can envision a sister space – closely related, but not the same – a golden halo, a circle of light surrounding something. (1) Andrea di Bartolo’s Madonna of Humility, The Blessing Christ, Two Angels, and a Donor from c. 1380/1390; Guido’s Cleopatra with asp, 1630; Gabrielle d'Estrées et une de ses sœurs, anonymous, circa 1594; Cornelis Van Harlen, A Monk and a Nun ; H. Bosch, The Garden of Earthly Delights; Lovis Corinth 1902, Self Portrait with his wife; Liberi’s Allegory of the Weiblichkeit, circa 1660; Pittoni’s Caritas romana, 1710 ; Jupiter and Antiope, Goltzius, 1612; Primavera or Allegory of Spring, Botticelli c. 1482. Connect with Adrienne on Instagram Read More: Questions to Ask Your Breast Surgeon Exploring Breast Reconstruction Surgery: Pros and Cons The Choice to Go Flat   The Breast Cancer Care Continuum Once a Patient, Always a Patient On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations From Diagnosis to Survivorship: Stories and Support for Early Stage Breast Cancer Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Kinjal Sanghavi There were a series of hardships Yet you chose to hang in there There were plenty of sleepless nights Yet you pretended to be lively and energetic There were many toxic people who gave you emotional stress Yet you didn’t lose an ounce of your courage There were new challenges with each sunrise Yet you tried your best to retain your beautiful smile There were more heartbreaks than ever expected Yet you continued to be optimistic There were tears that longed to secure their place in your eyes Yet you maintained your composure There was helplessness that choked you from beneath Yet you didn’t let your willpower fade There were times when you were on the verge of breaking down Yet you remained strong in that vulnerable situation There was a period when nothing was going your way Yet you pushed yourself with small efforts and stayed motivated Amid the smog of negativity, thunderstorm of nuisance and cyclone of nervousness You fought the silent battles fiercely and fearlessly Share your poetry: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetups Free Events

By Marylou DiPietro  Monologue excerpted from solo play, In Love with Cancer   MARYLOU’S INNER VOICE  The number eight hangs on a hook in my brain.  Why eight? Why not seven? Seven's been my lucky number since the third grade, when I won the most beautiful picture of a blonde-haired, blue eyed, prepubescent Virgin Mary.  Yup, you heard me right: a blonde-haired, blue-eyed prepubescent Virgin Mary.  Made perfect sense at the time.  (Looking up “prepubescent” on my phone.)  Prepubescent: Young girls who are prepubescent are experiencing their purest sense of self before adulthood.  Their purest sense of self...  That’s why I wanted to become a nun!  If I married Christ I could remain a virgin. What could be better than that? I’d have God’s eternal love, and secure my place in heaven.  But wait a minute; weren’t nuns born with the indelible stain of original sin on their souls like the rest of us?  Maybe hiding their bodies in reams of black wool, and shielding their breasts with a hard plastic bib was a kind of preordained penance for the sin they inherited from Eve. Besides, how could I be a nun when all I wanted to do was stand in front of the mirror --naked-- looking for a sign that my prepubescent body was becoming pubescent?  Would I be punished for praying that my breasts would grow as big as the most popular girl’s in class? Why did I want a woman’s body, if it was a sin to have one in the first place? Oh my God that’s it! That’s the direct line from God shaming Adam and Eve, to my parents yelling at my sisters and me to “go put something on”, whenever we went downstairs in a slip or even a nightgown, as if we had come down stark naked. No wonder my mother, and all her Catholic friends, didn’t breastfeed. The shame was so overwhelming they lost their instinct to feed their own children. No wonder my mother seemed almost relieved to have one of her breasts cut off when, in her seventies, she learned she had breast cancer.  Is losing a breast to cancer my punishment for having one to begin with?  Just who is the real traitor? God or my own body?  It wasn’t winning the prize of purity that shaped my life; it was trading the prize in for that badge of shame.  It’s not that I didn’t want people to know I had breast cancer; I didn’t want them to know I had breasts. The breasts I dreamed of having. The breasts I made believe I did have, when I stuffed my training bra with cotton. Breasts so small they made me invisible to boys. Breasts, like my eyes, that gave too much away. The breasts that, even though they were far from perfect, were all mine.  Breasts I proudly fed my children with. Breasts I took for granted.  Breasts -- one breast -- that became a feeding ground for cancer; and needed to be cut off from its life source, which was me. The breasts that taught me Shame is the real cancer that needs to be lopped off and thrown in the trash.  I’m in love with everything cancer has given me... Like the memory of eating my first pomegranate. Or the time I laid on the beach for hours watching a parade of animal clouds drift by.  Or how I convinced my baby sister -- and myself -- that I knew how to fly! And that she was to meet me every morning at 5:15 for flying lessons. Or how I dreamed of painting and drawing and writing poems as good as my older sister’s. And when I did, she wasn’t jealous.  Or the moment my two-month-old daughter popped her head out of the Snuggly and noticed the world for the first time.  Or the time my five-year-old son announced he didn’t believe God was in the sky, but that he was the good in each person. Cancer taught me that surviving cancer is like surviving childbirth. Except with cancer it is your own life you end up with. Cancer gave me the strength to come to terms with what it took away. You want to know why I really fell in love with cancer? Because it got me here today. Connect with Marylou: www.maryloudipietro.com Read More: BEAUTY AND THE BREASTS To My Bosom Buddy MY BREAST CANCER: DISCOVERY Time to Heal On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Voices of Resilience: A Night of Poetry and Healing Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

Although receiving a breast cancer diagnosis during pregnancy is relatively rare, occurring in approximately 1 in 3,000 pregnancies , it’s crucial to take action promptly. Managing the mother’s health and ensuring the safety of the unborn baby requires a delicate balance and specialized care.  Pregnancy hormones such as estrogen can potentially fuel the growth of certain types of breast cancer , underscoring the importance of early detection and intervention. Research investigating the impact of hormones related to pregnancy indicates that heightened levels of estrogen, progesterone, and insulin-like growth factor 1 (IGF-1) can contribute to the promotion of breast cancer cell proliferation. Continue reading to learn more about breast cancer and expectant mothers , including diagnosis details and treatment options for breast cancer during pregnancy. Diagnosis Challenges Natural changes in breast tissue during pregnancy make it challenging to diagnose breast cancer during pregnancy. Breasts typically become denser and larger, making lumps more difficult to detect. Healthcare providers often rely on breast ultrasound as the initial diagnostic tool to minimize radiation exposure. Mammograms can also be performed with abdominal shielding to protect the fetus. Diagnostic Procedures During Pregnancy Diagnosing breast cancer during pregnancy presents unique challenges due to the need to minimize potential risks to the developing fetus . However, several diagnostic techniques are considered safe for expectant mothers: Clinical breast exam : A healthcare professional physically examines the breasts Breast ultrasound : This imaging technique using high-frequency sound waves creates pictures of the breast, posing no radiation risk to the fetus  Mammography : According to The American College of Radiology, while mammograms involve low doses of radiation, they may be recommended after weighing the risks and benefits Risk Factors and Symptoms In addition to the risk factors all women face for developing breast cancer, risk factors during pregnancy   can increase due to:  Family history of breast cancer Family history of late menopause First menstruation (menarche) before age 12 First pregnancy after age 30 Previous pregnancies not followed by breastfeeding Hormonal changes during pregnancy cause the breasts to undergo transformations. They may become larger, lumpy, and tender, making it more challenging for you or your doctor to detect a cancerous lump until it becomes significantly large. So, it’s crucial to stay vigilant and aware of these symptoms . A lump or thickening in the breast or underarm Changes in the size or shape of the breast Discharge from the nipple (other than breast milk) or blood from the nipple Dimpling, puckering, or swelling Scaly or red skin Nipple turned inward Treatment Options for Breast Cancer During Pregnancy Treatment of breast cancer during pregnancy depends on the stage of cancer, the trimester of pregnancy, and the health of the mother and baby. The main goal is to treat the cancer as effectively as possible while minimizing risks to the fetus. Surgery Surgery is often considered the safest cancer treatment during pregnancy. It can include either a lumpectomy (removal of the tumor and some surrounding tissue) or a mastectomy (removal of the entire breast). These procedures are generally safe during all trimesters. Chemotherapy Chemotherapy may be an option during the second and third trimesters when the risk to the developing fetus is lower. Drugs commonly used include doxorubicin and cyclophosphamide, which are relatively safe after the first trimester . Radiation Doctors typically avoid radiation therapy during pregnancy due to the risks it poses to the developing fetus, including potential congenital disabilities and growth restrictions. It is usually postponed until after delivery. Targeted therapy Oncologists may recommend some targeted therapies or molecular targeted therapies during pregnancy. These therapies utilize drugs to focus on specific molecules found in cancer cells to halt their growth and spread. These therapies can destroy cancer cells or significantly slow their progression while minimizing harm to normal cells. Additionally, targeted therapies are beneficial for individuals with BRCA gene mutations who develop breast cancer. However, doctors use them only if necessary because their safety profile is less well-established. Monitoring Fetal Health The health of the fetus is monitored closely throughout cancer treatment. The monitoring process typically includes regular ultrasounds to check fetal growth and development and non-stress tests to monitor fetal heart rate. Multidisciplinary Support for Expectant Mothers Managing breast cancer during pregnancy requires a collaborative approach involving medical professionals from various disciplines, including: Oncologists Obstetricians Neonatologists Genetic counselors Psychologists and support groups A multidisciplinary team works together to develop a personalized treatment plan that prioritizes the well-being of the mother and the baby while providing emotional support  throughout the experience. Count On Us for Information, Resources, and Support  Breast cancer during pregnancy poses unique challenges. With the appropriate care, most women can go on to deliver healthy babies and effectively manage their cancer treatment. Early detection and a tailored treatment plan are crucial for the best outcomes for both mother and child. Whether you’re newly diagnosed with breast cancer , are navigating survivorship, or are the loved one of someone experiencing breast cancer, you can count on SurvivingBreastCancer.org to keep you informed. We provide educational information to help you better understand symptoms , testing, treatment options , surgery, etc., and podcasts that feature professionals, advocates, and caregivers who share valuable information. Your donations  enable SurvivingBreastCancer.org , a community dedicated to empowering those affected by breast cancer with knowledge, understanding, and a network of care, to offer resources and support every day, every month, and every year.  Note: This article is designed to provide general information and is not meant to replace professional medical advice. Always discuss your options with your healthcare provider. Learn More: Managing Breast Cancer During Pregnancy and Breastfeeding Breast Cancer in Young Women: Common Questions Answered The Role of Hormones in Breast Cancer They Were My Blessing: Facing Breast Cancer With Young Kids On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Hope: with Julia Maués and Christine Hodgdon SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

Boston, MA – July 2024 – SurvivingBreastCancer.org is proud to announce a new partnership with pharmaceutical company Lilly for 2024. This collaboration aims to enhance support, education, and resources for individuals affected by breast cancer. “We are thrilled to partner with Lilly,” said Laura Carfang, Executive Director of SurvivingBreastCancer.org . “Their commitment to innovation and patient care aligns perfectly with our mission to empower and support the breast cancer community.” Together, SurvivingBreastCancer.org and Lilly will work on initiatives to provide essential resources, raise awareness, and foster a stronger support network for those impacted by breast cancer. For more information on our English and Spanish services, visit SurvivingBreastCancer.org . About SurvivingBreastCancer.org : SurvivingBreastCancer.org (SBC) is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization supporting those who have been touched by breast cancer. SBC provides free online resources and emotional support services to guide individuals when they are first diagnosed, through treatment, and beyond. Media Contact: Ana Quintero Marketing and PR SpecialistSurvivingBreastCancer.org ana@survivingbreastcancer.org

Boston, MA – June 2024 – SurvivingBreastCancer.org is excited to announce the release of the 75th episode of its Después De Un Diagnóstico  podcast. This milestone underscores the organization’s commitment to supporting the Spanish-speaking breast cancer community with valuable information, personal stories, and expert insights. “Reaching 75 episodes is a testament to our dedicated team,” said Laura Carfang, Executive Director of SurvivingBreastCancer.org . “We are grateful to our listeners for their support and trust. This achievement strengthens our resolve to continue providing essential resources.” Congratulations to the Después De Un Diagnóstico  team for their hard work and passion. Each episode is crafted to educate, inspire, and support our Spanish-speaking breast cancer community. Celebrate with us by tuning in at DespuésDeUnDiagnostico.org/podcast . For more information on our English and Spanish services, visit SurvivingBreastCancer.org . About SurvivingBreastCancer.org :   SurvivingBreastCancer.org (SBC) is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization supporting those who have been touched by breast cancer. SBC provides free online resources and emotional support services to guide individuals when they are first diagnosed, through treatment, and beyond. Media Contact: Ana Quintero Marketing and PR SpecialistSurvivingBreastCancer.org ana@survivingbreastcancer.org

SurvivingBreastCancer.org is adjusting our Thursday Night Thrivers support group schedule for summer 2024. For the months of June, July, and August, we will meet twice per month (instead of weekly). We will convene on the second and fourth Thursday of the month at 7:00 p.m. EDT.  Thursday Night Thrivers summer dates: June 13 June 27 July 11 July 25 August 8 August 22 The Zoom link will remain the same. If you do not have the link, please RSVP via our Thursday Night Thrivers events page .   Wishing everyone a wonderful summer! We hope you  make time for self-care, self-love, and relaxation.

SurvivingBreastCancer.org is thrilled to announce the return of our biggest fundraiser of the year:   Tell Cancer to Go #TakeAHike ! The big event will take place on Saturday, October 19. Hike (or walk, stroll, or just get outside) wherever you are in the world, have fun, and raise funds to support our 501 (c)(3) nonprofit organization! Register now  – join a team in your area, or start your own. How to Participate Start a team: Click the “Fundraise” button on our fundraising page, and you’ll be prompted to set up your fundraising profile. It’s free to set up ! Invite friends and family to join your fundraising team or start a fundraising team themselves. Join a team: Find a team you want to join, click “Join a Team” and you will be prompted to select a team and set up your profile. If you can’t participate in the event, you can still donate and support a participant by clicking on “Donate” or by purchasing a t-shirt. Sponsorship Opportunities: Want to participate in our mission to support the breast cancer community and have your brand’s logo featured on our #TakeAHike t-shirts? Take a look at our sponsorship opportunities – we have packages for all company sizes and budgets! ➡️ Click here to register ⬅️

Since the creation of our 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization in 2017, , SurvivingBreastCancer.org (SBC) has fostered human connection through shared circumstances. Whether our members connect based on the same type or stage of breast cancer or the same treatment regimen, SBC is a place where everyone is seen.    We know that serving as a caregiver to someone who has been diagnosed with cancer can be overwhelming. Our services are expanding to include dedicated support for these all-important caregivers for individuals diagnosed with cancer. We are thrilled to introduce a new support group: The Caregiver Huddle . This professionally-moderated group provides a safe space for caregivers to discuss the realities of caring for a loved one with cancer while simultaneously receiving vital emotional and practical support for themselves.  ✨This group is open to all caregivers for all types of cancer✨   We will meet every third Tuesday of the month at 7:00 p.m. Eastern Time. Learn more about our caregiving resources here.

By Heather Salazar Content warning: death and dying My life was saved, and forever changed , by a very unlikely person.  Alexis was a 23-year-old single mother  who was raised in the foster care system in 17 different homes. When I met Alexis, she was nearing the end of her life. She had stage IV breast cancer  and was looking for someone to raise her 9-month-old baby girl.  The previous week at our church, there were five couples on the big screen struggling with infertility. I called each of them to tell them about this precious, healthy baby girl. They had a problem with the color of her skin. I had a problem with them! I couldn’t stop thinking about this young mom and her baby with zero support . That was unimaginable from someone who has a family like mine… Alexis rode home from chemo on the public bus. That is not okay. I couldn’t sleep. After three nights, my husband Steve was like, “What is wrong with you?” I tell him. I beg him to meet Alexis. He says, “Heather… seriously? We already have three kids and our youngest isn’t even 2 yet!” I beg, and beg and BEG. Finally he agrees to meet Alexis. You know, just to help with groceries… So there we are, in the back of a grocery store parking lot. One with a bus stop in it so that Alexis could take the bus to come meet us. I remember it like it was yesterday. This tiny woman, maybe 100 pounds sopping wet, gets off the bus wearing a black mini skirt and a neon pink wig. She walked with such authority. She walked right past me and straight up to Steve and said, “I need help. I want my baby to have a better life than I did .” Steve’s heart melted into a puddle, and within the week we began the process of adopting Lexi. We became a family of six and our two girls, only 11 months apart, even slept in the same crib. We took Alexis to treatment and let her spend as much time with baby Lexi as she had the energy to do.  Alexis passed away shortly after turning 24. It is still the toughest thing I have ever witnessed. To see someone so young who was so scared to die was absolutely gut wrenching. About 18 months after we adopted Lexi, she was adjusted enough that she could stay with my parents, and Steve and I went away for our anniversary. I was 31. On that trip, I did my first ever self breast exam and I found a lump. I wasn’t worried. I still thought I was invincible. I thought that lump was nothing; Steve wasn’t so sure. Four days later, I was diagnosed  with the EXACT same type of aggressive breast cancer ( ER/PR- HER2+ ) that took Lexi’s first mom.  I was angry. Very angry. My kids had just witnessed Alexis die from this awful disease. How could this be happening? Was Lexi going to lose TWO moms to breast cancer before she even entered kindergarten? Not only did Alexis give us the incredible gift of Lexi, but she also saved my life. As she was dying, Alexis told me to make sure young women did self breast exams. If it wasn’t for Alexis, I would never have done that self breast exam. I wouldn’t have found that lump. I would have been dead long before my first mammogram at 40.  After a double mastectomy, Adriamycin/Cytoxan chemotherapy, and a year of Herceptin targeted therapy, I was declared cancer-free. While I was thrilled to be alive, I was haunted by the idea of those that have to face this battle alone.  I had zero experience and nothing more than a pipe dream about helping people after they were diagnosed, but I wrote a grant because I felt like I needed to do something. One afternoon I got back in my car and my phone was blowing up. It was announced on The Ellen Show, we were awarded the grant! The grantor was a billionaire out of Houston — not your typical foundation. And lucky for me, he believed in pipe dreams. My 501 (c)(3) nonprofit, Pink Ribbon Good (PRG), started providing healthy meals, rides to treatment, house cleaning essentials, and peer support services to four women battling stage IV breast cancer in Ohio.  I’d deliver meals after dropping my kids off at school or between their sports practices. We delivered 10,250 meals that first year and we were so proud. I’m happy to report that in June 2023 we delivered our one millionth meal!  What started as a crazy little pipe dream is now making sure brave fighters battling breast and gynecological cancers from San Francisco, CA to Buffalo, NY don’t have to travel this road alone. While this job isn’t always easy, it is such a privilege to get out of bed every day and know with every fiber of your being that you have found a way to put a purpose to your pain. To not be resentful of that pain, but instead see how it fueled what was to come next.  Heather Salazar Pink Ribbon Good President & CEO Read More: Breast Cancer in Young Women: Common Questions Answered My HER2-Positive Breast Cancer Diagnosis The Cost of Breast Cancer Supporting Loved Ones with Breast Cancer: How to Offer Meaningful Help Metastatic Breast Cancer: Understanding the Significance of Stage IV On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Young and Diagnosed: A Journey to Motherhood & Parenting with Triple Positive Breast Cancer Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Jessie Putre On March 13, 2024, I went to a private clinic to check a small lump in my breast that everyone was telling me was probably nothing. At that appointment, I was told that I likely had breast cancer. I had  a mammogram, ultrasound, and biopsy at that appointment, and my results came in several days later.  I was diagnosed with stage 2, grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma  – breast cancer. Not only that, but my cancer is also HER2 positive. Only 15-20%  of women with breast cancer are diagnosed as HER2 positive . It is an aggressive form of breast cancer that carries a risk of recurrence .  My world was instantly shattered. Sadness, disbelief, anger, and fear took over. One week later, on March 20, 2024, I underwent a total mastectomy of my right breast. It was all so surreal, and I kept asking myself, “Why is this happening to me? Am I going to die?” The mental journey was more challenging  than the physical… I am still trying to process everything. Now what lies in front of me is chemotherapy, then radiation, all in combination with an antibody treatment for those with HER2-positive breast cancer, which I will have to do for a year. There are no guarantees of success with what lies ahead, but I’m trying to be optimistic and the doctors feel I stand a strong chance of making a recovery if I take all of these steps. I started chemotherapy on May 8, 2024, in addition to Perjeta and Herceptin. I have done two rounds so far. My second round was yesterday! I am hanging in there OK. I will be doing six rounds in total. I’m trying to remain positive and keep faith that once I get through all of this, the best is yet to come for me! I have such a new appreciation for life and for the people in my life, that’s for sure! Read More: HER2+ Breast Cancer Different Types of Breast Cancer The Psychological Impact of Breast Cancer: Strategies for Coping Cancer Is Not Going to Beat Me Next Thing Next, Following Your Heart On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Triple Positive Breast Cancer Under 30 Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Susan Angoy I booked a private mammogram for 12:30 p.m. on October 20, 2021. This was just to be on the cautious side, you understand. It had been three years since my previous scan, and there was a backlog in the NHS screening program due to Covid. One of my sisters had been diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer earlier in the year, so I thought I should have a scan. I had been experiencing some pain  in my right tit and underarm, but of course, everyone knows that you don’t feel pain from breast cancer. Or so I (mis)understood. A regular routine scan is what I thought I was going for. After all, it couldn’t happen to Susan. No sirree! Susan and her tits were invincible. Weren’t they? I sat in the waiting room of the clinic, waiting for the radiologist to review my mammogram before getting the all clear  that would allow me to skip off to do a spot of shopping. I had not been to Selfridges since pre-Covid days so I sat making a mental list of what I might treat myself to. I planned to indulge in some retail therapy. So certain was I that the technician would come to let me know I could leave with a report of immaculate and healthy tits, I was looking forward to my shopping trip – not an activity I normally enjoy. I was thus unprepared for the nurse who came to tell me that the consultant radiologist wanted to do an ultrasound and physical examination of my perfectly formed elevations . Even those words failed to alert me to what was to follow. “Have you lost weight recently?” the kind nurse asked me. You’d think that by now I might be a tad anxious, but no. After all, Susan was invincible. As it happened, I had lost a little weight , but that was because I’d been experiencing a lot of nausea, headaches, and weird dizziness, so I had been eating very little for three weeks or so. I put those symptoms down to some bug I must have picked up. A nuisance, but nothing to be concerned about. I was so unconcerned that I failed to mention any of this to the nurse. What followed was the start of the nightmare I continue to live through. Not a nocturnal nightmare confined to sleeping hours, but one that envelops my every waking moment. I don’t sleep much. In fact, I’d say I hardly sleep at all. “I think you may have a carcinoma in your right breast, based on the mammogram, ultrasound and my physical examination. There is a palpable mass that looks very suspicious and not one for which I can immediately find an alternative explanation. I’m very sorry to tell you this. You understand, I have to tell you.” Those were the consultant’s words. He went on to explain that I would need to have a biopsy to confirm his suspicions, and to indicate the grade and stage of the tumor and to identify its receptors . I stared at the doctor. I heard the words, but failed to fully take them in. For a change, Susan was speechless. You hear stories of people being in shock when receiving bad news. Now I really understand the meaning of those words. He realized I was in shock and gently explained my options and next steps. I could remain within the private sector; alternatively, they would immediately refer me back into the NHS. Given that my local hospital was University College London Hospital, I would be assured of excellent and swift treatment. He went on to say that if I were his relative, his advice would be that I should be treated within the NHS on the urgent Cancer Pathway 2-week referral. He advised me that his report would be with my GP within half an hour and that I should contact the GP that afternoon. I agreed that this would be the best option and left the clinic. I left. But I was still the deer caught in the headlights. All thoughts of retail therapy had vanished from my brain. I wanted to cry but couldn’t. My only action was to order an Uber to get me home as quickly as possible. Although it was only 2:00 p.m. I wondered if I should mix a stiff gin and tonic to steady myself. But even that was impossible. The damn nausea I was having made it impossible for me to drink anything more than a glass of water when I got home. From the moment I got back, things moved very quickly. By 3:00 p.m. my GP, Dr. Jessica Baron, rang me, having received the report. She told me that she had already sent the referral to UCLH on the Cancer Pathway, but asked if I wanted to come in to talk to her and to be examined . All props to my GP practice, the James Wigg Group Practice and especially Dr. Baron. I saw no point in any further examinations and didn’t want to waste her time going over what I’d already been told. She explained the process in a caring and gentle manner. She told me that it looked like it had been caught early and that I shouldn’t worry too much. There were excellent advances and treatments available. Only part of my brain took in what I was being told.  If I had experienced nausea in the weeks before that date, they were nothing in comparison to what I felt listening to her words . The reality was gradually penetrating my consciousness. The unthinkable had happened. My precious tits had been attacked and a major assault would be forthcoming. The following day I received a phone call from UCH Macmillan Cancer Centre to book an urgent appointment in their breast clinic. Immediately after taking that call, I went online and bought a series of expensive and very sexy bras. I had no impending “hot date” or specific reason for buying them that day. But somewhere hovering in my brain was the thought that perhaps time was running out for me to wear my favorite items of lingerie. Funny how such trivial things can come into your mind at the most serious moments. A very senior medical friend and my oncologist cousin talked to me about the excellent survival rates for early-stage breast cancer, how treatments have advanced – including their side effects . They spoke of how surgical intervention could be minimal if caught at a sufficiently early stage, etc. They may be eminent physicians, but they are both men. How could they understand? I heard the words, but my brain looped back to my thoughts of decades earlier.  I am not a young woman at the start of her emotional and sexual life, but I am a woman. I am a woman who has been a widow for two and a half years and have just started getting my life back together again, making plans for my future. I am a woman who has recently begun to take tentative steps towards breaking a long period of celibacy, hopeful of forming new attachments  and having adventures. These are difficult spaces to navigate at the best of times. I feel out of step. I’ve forgotten the rules and the mystical ways of attracting and engaging with others in a romantic and erotic context. Now this. Why? How could I ever be the same again? I might stay alive, but what would that life be like? Would I still feel feminine? Would I still be desirable – to myself, let alone to anyone else? What will my body look like when the surgeon, radiation, and drugs have finished with me? Will I still feel anything ? Anyway, how does anyone know it was caught “early enough?” At times, I rage. Other times, I weep. At times, I feel vain and petty worrying about these issues when the medical teams are focused on my survival and trying to reassure me about the curability of early-stage breast cancer. Other times, I think of women whose cancer has not been detected early . But none of that changes my reality. A few days after that phone call, I sat in the UCH Macmillan Cancer Centre in Huntley Street, London. I sat on the same seat where I’d spent nearly three years, from 2015 to 2018, waiting with my late husband for his appointments. He had been diagnosed with stage 4 prostate cancer and died in the Hampstead Marie Curie Hospice in early 2019. I looked at the cheerful bright mosaic floor in the waiting area and those years came flooding back as if they were yesterday. Not only was I living my own reality, but I was catapulted back into all those weeks, months and years of anguish and grief . This time, I sat alone. Waiting. Connect with Susan: Blog Read More: Newly Diagnosed Why a Second Opinion Matters for Breast Cancer 9 Early Warning Signs of Breast Cancer You Shouldn’t Ignore Understanding Your Pathology Report: A Comprehensive Step-By-Step Guide Navigating Cancer Treatment: Top Tips from an Oncology Pharmacist On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Finding Your Voice With Brenda Denzler & Elaine Schattner Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dani Romano I took a picture of my healing body today. I had my medi-port (IV port) taken out three mornings ago. (I thanked my port in pre-op before it was removed.) The picture I took just now shows a multitude of colors as the bruising spreads from where the port used to be. Much of it is hidden under the suture cover, which is also covered with medical glue. It is an interesting array of colors. It would probably gross some people out. To me it is beautiful. It is my time to heal. Cancer “recovery” (for lack of a better word) is a difficult time and most would probably say, “You healed from a list of things over the last two years, Dani; why do you say NOW is your time to heal?” Sure. It has been a long two years, with many, many things to heal from . And obvious physical things: IV chemotherapy, immunotherapy, procedures, hospitalizations, surgery, radiation, oral chemo. But I did not and still do not consider that I was healing after any of those things. Let me explain. While I was undergoing a long course of radiation, it got to the point where my skin was falling off, like in small chunks in the shower. Sure the skin started to grow back and the colors lightened and lightened, but at no time while crying over what was left on the shower floor did I feel like, “Wow, look at that, I am healing!” IV chemo, immunotherapy, and oral chemo (well, what I was able to tolerate before my liver caused a quick stop) destroyed many things in my body, and I am now in the process of seeing a myriad of doctors to try to fix as much of that as I can, so did I see myself healing from that? Nope. But now, as I pass my two-year mark of my diagnosis date and have had my port removed, I see this beautiful bruising changing each day and say, “It is now finally, FINALLY, my time to HEAL.” Read More: Cancer Sucks, and That’s Okay Moving forward but not moving on… Once a Patient, Always a Patient On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations 11 Years of Survivorship: A Breast Cancer Survivor’s Story Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Mandy Richardson My diagnosis came as a shock, as I think it does for many people. I was still young . I was actively breastfeeding. And I was relatively healthy. I remember, a couple of times, being told by someone that they wished they could take the cancer for me. As moving as that sentiment was, I didn’t wish that.  1. I wouldn’t wish a cancer diagnosis or treatment on my worst enemy. 2. I knew I was in what you could probably call the best position to fight and beat it.  I had my “youth” and “health” going for me. And I think you could see that in how my body handled the chemo. I was tired. Very tired. But I didn’t get physically sick, or have the joint pain that so often goes along with Adriamycin/Cytoxan (AC) chemo. But I also knew a little bit about fighting, and advocating for myself.  My self-advocacy started before my cancer diagnosis, when I was facing fertility challenges. When I couldn’t sustain a pregnancy, after two years, I asked to see a fertility specialist. At first, I was denied by my current OBGYN. While I was told the rule of thumb was to see a specialist if I couldn’t get pregnant within a year, I was simultaneously told that didn’t apply to me because I COULD get pregnant, I just couldn’t sustain it. I called the office and told the receptionist to never schedule me with that doctor again, then requested an appointment with the office’s physician that usually handled infertility cases. He agreed to see me. Not long after that, after yet another miscarriage, I was with yet another doctor and asked about any connection between thyroid disorders and miscarriages. I was told that’s not likely. I hadn’t had my thyroid checked since before getting pregnant with my oldest, but I knew I had a family history of thyroid problems. I told him I had good insurance, and I wanted my bloodwork done.  Sure enough, my thyroid-stimulating hormone (TSH) levels came back incredibly high. I started seeing a specialist at an actual infertility clinic, and my reproductive endocrinologist started me on medications for the first time ever to treat hypothyroidism. That story had a happy ending, and we welcomed our little rainbow baby in October 2020. Advocating for yourself is a lot like giving yourself grace. So often, we’re asked, would you talk to a friend going through something similar the same way you talked to yourself? It may, at times, be easy to see that a friend or relative needs to push for a second opinion , yet when it comes to ourselves, there are at least a dozen reasons we might tell ourselves not to. We’re too busy; we don’t have time for that. We trust our original doctors at their word. So-and-so had the “same thing” and was just fine. Sometimes we really just don’t want to know. Deep down, we know there’s a journey ahead and we’d rather stay off that road. But if a second opinion is only an “opinion,” that means that’s all the first was as well. Don’t accept an opinion. Make them give you the facts. And if they can’t, then they need to get them. This experience came into play later on during my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment. For more on this part of my story, check out my previous blog post: Breast Cancer at 33: A Young Mom’s Story of Self-Advocacy . I wouldn’t, in a million years, wish that someone else would go through my experience for me. It was a hard road, and certainly not one I ever want to travel again. But I fought, and I won, and I learned so much about my own strength and resilience in the process. While I would often joke that “my body hates me” or “my body tried to kill me,” it’s also gotten me through all of that stuff. I’d still rather be me. Check out Mandy’s other blog posts: Breast Cancer at 33: A Young Mom’s Story of Self-Advocacy Once a Patient, Always a Patient Read More: Breast Cancer in Young Women: Common Questions Answered The Role of Hormones in Breast Cancer Why A Second Opinion Matters for Breast Cancer On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Young and Diagnosed: A Journey to Motherhood & Parenting with Triple Positive Breast Cancer Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dania Francis Read Dania’s breast cancer story: Thoughts on October: Breast Cancer “All Too Aware” Month Every morning for 5 weeks. I park my car, walk down the long path, check in while patients much older than me can’t help but stare , and I smile as I stick out my right wrist to get my ID band placed by the nice front desk staff. I walk down the hall. The first day I was a bit lost with each turn, but now I know exactly where to go. I find my locker, lucky number 23, and I grab my XXL gown and get changed. I take the same seat every morning and look around the waiting room. Some women are reading, some are there for the first time, and some are almost done. I smile at whoever is looking, and make a connection. A 41-year-old woman just like me with the same diagnosis of triple negative breast cancer  (TNBC), she’s from Italy originally and has a beautiful accent. We talk about our Italian culture and how hard this has all been. We exchange numbers and offer each other comfort and good wishes for the day. We are on the same schedule and will end our radiation within two days of one another. She is struggling with knee pain from immunotherapy and I offer her some advice to talk to her doctor about. A 35-year-old woman is holding a big tub of chocolate biscotti to give to the radiation team, because she heard that’s what you should do. I tell her I’m a nurse and that we always appreciate that. We smile at each other and I learn that she is halfway through her treatment for triple positive breast cancer . I wish her luck as the tech calls my name. An 85-year-old woman is here for her first day of treatment for HR+ breast cancer . She is nervous and unsteady on her feet. Her daughter comes back with her to help her get into her gown. She sits down next to me. I smile at her and tell her everything will be okay. She smiles at me and I can tell she feels sorry I am so young . She reaches her hand to my arm and squeezes gently. The tech calls her name and I wish her luck. I look forward to seeing her tomorrow. I only have five more mornings in this waiting room after today... and I will remember the connections I made forever. Maybe it’s the nurse in me, or the desire to connect with others on this path. The waiting room is a special place for me. About the author: Dania is 41 and lives in NY with her husband and two small children. She is a Family Nurse Practitioner, Yoga teacher, and certified Reiki healer. She is a stage 2 Triple Negative Breast Cancer Thriver. Read More: Thoughts on October: Breast Cancer “All Too Aware” Month Different Types of Breast Cancer Breast Cancer in Young Women: Common Questions Answered On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Radiation Therapy: What Every Breast Cancer Thriver Needs To Know Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Brookshire McDonald After the death of my husband in 1996, I waited the suggested year and moved from Mandeville, Louisiana to my birth city of Raleigh, N.C. Two of my five children had asked if they could get married, and I replied, “If I’m not moving the week of your weddings!” Back in Raleigh, I fell from a ladder while hanging wreaths outside on my windows. Who would have thought my rescuer would be an exterminator who kills bugs and fleas! I had emergency surgery on my shattered knee, followed by a second and third surgery, a blood clot, and a month in a nursing home followed by six months of live-in care at home. I was due for a mammogram , but was told it could not be performed in a wheelchair (which was false). When I finally could stand, I had my mammogram and was called to their office during their lunch hour. The nurse, seeing me on crutches, blurted, “Oh, you have that, too!” The doctor verified I had breast cancer . I was denied a double mastectomy, and instead had a single mastectomy. My surgeon informed me if my lymph nodes were clear, I would not need chemo. My oncologist did order chemo after seeing the pathology report . The pathology report showed that my cancer was estrogen negative, progesterone positive, and HER2/neu positive . I always thought he prescribed chemo because of that, but I never really knew. Two years to the day later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in the remaining breast. I changed surgeons and had my second mastectomy, followed by treatment with an aromatase inhibitor for five years. As a widow, I hated to part with my 36 DD, which I thought was my only asset! I later found many new assets! Experiencing humor along my journey was MOST helpful! Examples: My grandson yelling to his older brother after seeing my wig in my hand, “Come quick, GeeGee has just take-ed her hair right off the top of her head!” Poking a hole in my post-surgery drain while pinning it to my gown and having to call my doctor at 10:30 p.m., receiving instructions to DUCT TAPE it!  Another survivor saying she didn’t want implants because she would rather put her prosthesis on the shelf at night and opt for a different size every morning!    I had two mastectomies, reconstruction , areola tattoos, a hysterectomy, hip replacement, and three surgeries on my knee: 10 surgeries in nine years. Keep moving forward and explore new interests. Mine were performing hearing tests on newborns, signing (not singing!) the national anthem at the Miracle League baseball games for special needs children, and involvement with adult day care. Find humor on your journey, be your own advocate  and follow your heart. On August 8, 2024 I will celebrate 20 years of Thrivership! P.S. AFTER being diagnosed, I discovered I had five aunts who had breast cancer , but the “C” word was never said back then. My cancers were two primaries, and my middle daughter was diagnosed during the Covid-19 pandemic with lobular breast cancer . Each of us was negative for the BRCA gene mutation . I love my sisters I’ve gained (even though my mother said I would never have a sister), and wish each of you well.     Love and hugs,  Your Patron Saint Read More: Different Types of Breast Cancer Understanding Your Pathology Report: A Comprehensive Step-By-Step Guide Understanding Genetic Testing for BRCA1 and BRCA2 Mutations On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Granting Wishes Brings Joy with Elesha Snyder & Jan Hillman Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Trudy Trybulski  In 2016, I was 63 and not long retired. I noticed a change in the shape of my left breast and went to see my doctor, who quickly referred me to the hospital where I had a mammogram and biopsy . Three weeks later, it was confirmed that I had breast cancer . Tissue samples showed I had stage 3, grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma (breast cancer). I received the treatment  that goes along with this sort of diagnosis: lumpectomy, three cycles of FEC (fluorouracil, epirubicin hydrochloride, and cyclophosphamide) chemotherapy, three cycles of docetaxel chemotherapy,  three weeks of radiotherapy, Herceptin targeted therapy, and letrozole hormone therapy. I began to walk about the hospitals like a professional cancer patient.  Five years later, in 2021, I was diagnosed with a recurrence of the same cancer in the same breast which was also stage 3, grade 3. My oncologist recommended a left breast mastectomy, but I made a case to have a double mastectomy as I knew I would not cope very well with one large breast. I turned down chemotherapy and Herceptin, but agreed to zoledronic acid infusions and letrozole following the double mastectomy. I have no regrets at all about the double mastectomy . I knew that mentally I would not cope well with one breast, implants, or any reconstruction . Three years post-mastectomy, I have an amazing tattoo covering my missing breasts and scars. I’d never had a tattoo before. At age 70 I am now converted and love my new upper body. It has given me confidence and joy. I designed the tattoo myself working alongside an amazing tattooist. He created something inspiring that tells a unique story about the threads of my life . My experience with cancer has actually enhanced my life. I’ve made changes to who I live with, developing my own home into a safe peaceful sanctuary. I have surrounded myself with amazing friends and neighbors . My family supported me, but also we have developed our already strong and caring relationship , I would say with a deeper love and understanding of our importance to each other. I have left people on the wayside too, people who wanted to drain my positivity or offered me more stress. I am currently struggling with the side effects of the drugs, particularly letrozole. It is having an effect on my joints and muscles. Constant pain is hard to live with, so it’s time to up my resistance. My plan is to get back into the gym and do more weight-bearing exercises. I want to get that feel-good factor back in my body. I’ve decided to let my hair grow, show off my tattoos, and let myself flourish—well that’s the plan, anyway! Luckily I love sports and swimming, but also chocolate and wine! Breast cancer or any cancer doesn’t have to mean the end of a fulfilling life . Yes, it can cause difficulties and tough endings for some. I suppose it’s about making the most of what you have and who you are, and celebrating the good things in your life. I know this sounds like a cliché, but as a person affected by cancer, I feel I have the right to say it. I’ve had many say to me things like, “You could get run over by a bus,” or, “We all have to die sometime.” These statements are really not helpful, because the bus is right in front of my face. I’ve learnt to understand the fear that others have around cancer, allowing them to voice that fear to me. As I watch the rain, typing this with my wrists aching from carpal tunnel syndrome, I wonder at the beauty of it . I’m looking forward to the spring and what delights that will bring. Read More: Exploring Breast Reconstruction Surgery: Pros and Cons Navigating Relationships After a Breast Cancer Diagnosis The Choice to Go Flat On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Building a Strong Relationship Between Patients and Their Medical Team Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Michelle Sandlin In June of 2021, I was in the best shape of my life, or so I thought. I wasn’t overweight. I didn’t drink. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t do drugs. I was working out like a maniac, six days a week. I looked great. I felt great. But guess what? None of that mattered because cancer don’t care. That’s when I found a lump in my right breast. I was in utter shock and disbelief. It didn’t make any sense. As far as I knew, my risk factors for developing breast cancer  were very low. My mom didn’t have breast cancer. My grandmothers didn’t have breast cancer. It seemed so random, and completely unexpected. But I was familiar with the statistic: one in eight women. Now I was the one. The day I was diagnosed , I was forced to learn many new words and terms. The first being invasive ductal carcinoma . The second being triple-negative breast cancer  (TNBC). And then a few weeks later, a third one was added to the mix. It was BRCA1 gene mutation . Yep, I had that too. Those were the three things that pretty much dictated my treatment strategy. It looked like this: 16 rounds of chemo over the course of 5 ½ months, followed by a double mastectomy and reconstruction surgery, and finally the preemptive removal of my ovaries and fallopian tubes. That was the medical strategy.  I also implemented and enforced a personal strategy, which proved to be critical and highly effective for my emotional wellbeing. It looked like this: maintain a positive attitude; keep toxic people and negative thoughts at bay; work out  as much as possible; listen to my body; lean on my family, friends, and faith; stay in the moment, then let it go; use meditation  to combat anxiety; no tears; no Google; no downward spiral. The idea was to develop a philosophy around controlling what I could control during this out-of-control time. And I documented every moment along the way, sharing personal messages, photos, and videos on social media. This helped tremendously with the crippling feelings of isolation  that I experienced throughout my treatment. It also let people keep up with me and my progress and be able to see for themselves how I was doing. I wanted to be able to share the raw, emotional, candid moments. I wanted to share my message of love, hope, encouragement, motivation, inspiration, and the importance of community. I hoped others would be able to benefit from my experience. Then on Valentine’s Day 2022, I received the best news possible. That’s when my breast surgeon told me I was cancer-free! CANCER-FREE!  This was just a few days after my double mastectomy. She introduced me to yet another new term: pathological complete response, meaning that there was no residual invasive cancer in the tissue that was removed during surgery. My prayers had been answered. In the months that followed, I realized I needed to process everything that had happened. There was no time to do that when I was first diagnosed, and certainly no time to do that when I was in the throes of treatment, surgery, healing, and recovery. So now that I was on the other side, it was time to process .  That’s when I decided to write a book. To share my thoughts, feelings, and insights about my breast cancer experience. Everything I had been through—physically, emotionally, and spiritually—and what it’s like to be on the other side. To lift the veil and share the most intimate, personal details. To share the many life lessons that were woven into my journey. To share my perspective about life after cancer. And ultimately, to help and inspire others, and give them hope, regardless of the battle they may be fighting or the struggles they may be facing. To shine the light on the road to healing and inner peace. My hope is that others will benefit from my story. About the Author:  Michelle Sandlin is an award-winning writer and bestselling author. She spent the better part of the past decade as a freelance writer and columnist. During that time, she wrote a weekly column for the Houston Chronicle, which ran from 2013 through 2020. Originally from Shreveport, Louisiana, Michelle currently lives in Houston with her husband, Kenny, and their English Bulldogs, Max and Stella . She published a book about her breast cancer experience, Cancer Don’t Care , in January 2024. For more information about Michelle, please visit her website: www.MichelleSandlin.com . Read More: A New and Unexpected Life Understanding Genetic Testing for BRCA1 and BRCA2 Mutations Remember You Are Not Alone On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations Good News for Triple Negative Breast Cancer: A Vaccine and Hope for the Future Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

By Dania Francis Although most people know that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, many do not realize what a tough month it is. For someone newly diagnosed, in active treatment, someone who has lost someone to this awful beast, and even survivors and thrivers, it is difficult. It is in our face every day, and there is so much pink everywhere. October has always been my favorite month. It is the first month that starts to really feel like fall… the crisp air, sweatshirts, pumpkin spice coffees (man I miss being basic), wineries, football, and fun outings. October is also the month I brought my daughter into this world—a daughter we fought pretty hard to have—so yes, October holds a special place in my heart. I started hating the month this past October because it was just too much to handle. All the stories and research and clinical trials flooding my feed… all the 5Ks and “Fun Runs” and all the pink... need I say more? But I’ve also read some posts about “Reclaim October,” and I know that has more to do with stopping corporations and companies from “pink washing,” which is just cruel and ridiculous. Slapping pink ribbons and catchphrases on their sites to attract sales that may not even be going anywhere important for the breast cancer research  we still need. So, I decided after 2/8 rounds of chemotherapy done, and some October still left, I was also going to reclaim October—for myself, and for my daughter. I dressed up for the first time in a while and attended a beautiful wedding. To my surprise, I also felt beautiful. People told me I was glowing and looked so beautiful, in the pictures and at the wedding. And I decided, you know what? My husband’s 92-year-old nanny was right. When I was first diagnosed, she told me to get mad at it. The cancer. I didn’t understand at the time, because all I could do was cry. But this is how I will reclaim my October. The brighter I can shine and the more I can glow, that is me showing this cancer who’s boss. Cancer, you may have taken my boobs and some other things from me… but I will not let you take my shine. I will not let you win. Every time someone tells me I’m glowing, I will be sure to let you know I am still winning. Breast Cancer Awareness Month, thanks for getting in everyone’s faces. Because if it’s not actually in your face every day, you may not pay attention as much. I know I didn’t pay as much attention until now… and I’m hoping all those I reach are more aware now, too.   I am so lucky to have such   amazing support from family and friends  (that act like family) all around me, and all others I have known through the years that have supported me in so many ways. I cherish every single one of you and hold so much space for all of you. Sending you so much love and light always. Thank you for giving me hope and strength during this heavy time. And to my husband, who makes me feel beautiful and tells me I’m glowing every single day since being diagnosed, while taking care of me and our two children every day. Here’s to many more Octobers to shine and sparkle, even in pink. About the author: Dania is 41 and lives in NY with her husband and two small children. She is a Family Nurse Practitioner, Yoga teacher, and certified Reiki healer. She is a stage 2 Triple Negative Breast Cancer Thriver. Read More: Hearing the words “You have cancer” is heavy The Cost of Breast Cancer Cancer Etiquette: How to Talk With Loved Ones About Their Breast Cancer On the Podcast: Breast Cancer Conversations The Dollars Behind the Cure: Where Does it Actually End Up? Share your story, poetry, or art: https://www.survivingbreastcancer.org/submit-breast-cancer-story SurvivingBreastCancer.org Resources & Support: Podcast Weekly Meetup s Free Events

About Dawn Oswald [Passed away December 15, 2023] Dawn joined SurvivingBreastCancer.org (SBC) in 2020. She immediately stepped forward to become part of our SBC Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC) Leadership Team and has taken a very active role in leading our MBC support group on Thursdays. Dawn is a loving soul and always offered support, advice, and friendship. In addition, for the last two years Dawn has been crocheting beanies for SBC that would be sent to those newly diagnosed with breast cancer throughout the U.S. Dawn has crocheted over 100 beanies for the community! Several members of our community had the pleasure of meeting Dawn when she came to visit Boston as well as when we attended the MBC conference held by Living Beyond Breast Cancer in Philly in April 2023. Read Dawn's blog about the conference! It is with a very heavy heart that MBC has taken the life of this beautiful person leaving behind her children, husband, and grandchildren. The Poetry Lab Dawn also contributed significantly to our SBC Poetry Lab. Please read and enjoy several of Dawn's original writings: Going Home How Can I Change It's Still Me Joy Love. Yes Love. Lymphedema My 4 Roses New Day The Mask Words Rollercoaster Scans Sick Sweet or Spicy Time The Choices The Light of My Legacy The Plane Today then Tomorrow Waves You're Worth It What People in the SBC Community are saying Julia: Prayers up for our dear fearless friend Dawn Debra: T he last time she texted me was 12:45 Tuesday. And I replied to her about 1ish Tuesday. Then today when I was at my oncologist I sent her a copy of a sign that says never give up. This is what I sent her. Jennifer Fuller: I was just thinking of Dawn this morning. Was going to ask tonight if there were any updates on Dawn. So sorry to hear this news. She is in my thoughts. Sorry, I couldn’t make it to todays zoom go her. Lisa Lewis: I'm sending love and support to Dawn and her family!  Many prayers too. Julie Cottrell: I had been wondering how Dawn was doing. Dawn may not know it, but she helped me in deciding to be a mentor with ABCD. She told me about ABCD mentorships. I always admired her on the calls in my early SBC days when she was in Alaska. Ashifa Shaw: Dawn,  I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to meet through SBC. Your hats warmed my heart and made me feel a connection.  Continued love & support on your journey. Xoxo Andrea Magni: Dawn Oswald⁩ you are a bright soul and I love seeing the things you’ve created to warm others. Sending you lots of love and thinking of you and your beautiful family. Melanie Clippinger: Dawn you are such a kind, giving, amazing woman.Sending lots of love to you and your beautiful family. Julie she also inspired me to become an ABCD mentor also. Renata: When I joined the SBC family, I felt a great connection to you, Dawn. You were in Alaska back then and you had the same metastasis I had, and were on the same treatment I was, only several steps forward than me. I followed you as a guide, an inspirational guide. When you started Enhertu, I went to my oncologist asking if I could have it but I couldn't yet. When I was allowed to have it, I felt closer to you. Then for me everything changed, but that connection is still strong. Please, keep fighting. I love you and I pray for you and your family. Brookshire: Dawn, you remain on my mind this morning. Your husband and children are there, too. My heart overflows with inspiration from you. You are one of th sisters my mother said I would never have! Love you lots. Dawn’s obituary may be viewed here: https://www.charliemarshallfuneralhomes.com/obituaries/dawn-oswald Please feel free to make a donation in honor of Dawn Oswald.

About Kristen Carter [Passed away October 17, 2023] Kristen Carter was a certified coach, an author who encouraged readers to be their true authentic selves, and a beautiful woman unfortunately living with metastatic breast cancer. Kristen was part of the SurvivingBreastCancer.org MBC Leadership team and an avid writer responding to inquiries through her Dear Kristen blog . Thank you, Kristen, for being such a formative part of our organization! Read Kristen's writing: Scanxiety Reassurance for Genetic Testing How to Deal with Brain Fog Living Without Regrets How to Feel Positive About Life Again Coping with Survivor's Guilt My Animal Companion Has Been With Me Throughout Breast Cancer Do Positive Thoughts Help You Heal? New Meanings and Shifting Priorities How Do I Find ME Again? No Matter Your Weight, Shape, or Size, You Matter. Tips for Managing Mood Swings and Breast Cancer Self-Love Comes First Life and Cancer Lessons From a Wet Wedding Putting Yourself First Why Won't My Teenager Talk To Me About My Diagnosis? Reconnect With Your Inner Strengths Cancer Helped Me Find Myself The Alternative To Feeling Like A Victim Creating Your Legacy Dealing with the Stress of Having Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC) What People in the SBC Community are saying Laura: Kristen was a joy! She brought so much to our SurvivingBreastCancer.org community! She served on our MBC leadership team and wrote many blogs as part of her “Dear Kristen” corner! Abigail: Kristen was such a valued member of our community and she will be missed, greatly. May her life and legacy be a blessing to all. Gabby: I am so sorry to read about Kristen’s passing, heartfelt condolences. Amy: I enjoyed reading your post. We will continue to carry your legacy. Holding space for your family! Dawn: I met her in Colorado at the beginning of the year.  She was such a sweet lady. She even text me happy birthday on Oct 9th. I had no ideal She was that sick. I pray for her to rest in peace and I pray for her family. She will be missed and her articles. God bless her and her family. I love you my pink sister. Lisa: I've been thinking about Kristen a lot lately missing her pieces in the newsletters. So very sad. Prayers to everyone in SBC and her family.   Pooja: Kristen’s newsletters were very informative. May her soul rest in peace.