Mammoversaries // Cancerversaries

Michelle_in_cornland

I have been thinking, for a while, about starting a thread dedicated to the anniversary of the day our mammograms found breast cancer. My day is coming up on Tuesday, August 1, 4:30pm. In honor of that day, I invite others to share their thoughts, emotions, plans for the future, in the context of what that telling mammogram laid out for their future. This is a place for our stories of how we were initially diagnosed, how we handled the news, how we progressed through treatment, and how we are now.

Sometimes, just putting words on paper, or in this case computer, is very healing. The following is my story.

I decided to make all of my appointments with doctors on the same day last year, I had my obgyn appt, my pscyhiatrist (anxiety/depression) appt, and ran late to my mammogram appointment. I dislike these types of appointments so much, that I want them over in a day. However, it did not go that way. August 1, 2016 was on a Monday. By early Tuesday morning, the radiologist called me for followup ultrasounds and 3d mammograms. I thought I would just get a slip of paper in the mail telling me how dense my breasts were and how everything was normal. That did not happen. The radiologist told me that she highly suspected cancer, but that my lymph nodes looked really good. I thought I was going to pass out, that I was having an out of body experience, that they had made a mistake with some one else's chart. My knees felt weak and I went into to full panic mode. I went to a radiologist friend of mine's house, near my house, and she helped me figure out what to do. I trusted her, and she usually read my mammograms. The next morning, August 3rd, we did a 7am biopsy. Afterwards, I went to my sister's house for several days in a row, shaking, crying, feeling like I was going to die. Somehow, about a week later, I pulled myself together, had a plan in place with a breast surgeon, saw a counselor that I had used for post partum depression, and took responsibility for my health. I had input into what type of surgery I wanted, mastectomy vs. lumpectomy. I went with lumpectomy and have been very fortunate to have recovered well. I had 20 total treatments of radiation, which I flew through and finished by November. While contemplating what antihormonal I was going to be taking, I decided to to have a hysterectomy and oopherectomy. That was in January 2017. I was no where near menopause and was worried about reproductive issues. It had been a concern for a few years, since there was no sign of menopause and we did the CA125 to make sure my levels were always good. I take Tamoxifen, with very few side effects, I am healthier now that I was a year ago, I am active and try to walk five miles per day. I am no longer scared of breast cancer. It was my worst fear, my worst nightmare, and I got through it. This year has been a growth year for me in facing a major crisis, and taking control of my fear. I have learned so many lessons along the way, and met many wonderful survivors. This website has been a godsend, and I appreciate each and every one who contributes.

I hope this is an appropriate forum, because I could not think of a more appropriate forum to deal with the emotional effects of a mammoversary. Some people call it cancerversary, I call it mammoversary because that is where it all started for me.

Michelle_in_cornland

Anyone else out there that wants to talk about their mammoversary? My actual day is tomorrow, my actual date is Tuesday, August 1st. It is really surprising how the feelings are resurfacing after a year. I am going to take a little trip on my mammoversary and go to World Market for a new canopy. I need a new canopy for my outdoor furniture that I have recently redone. I am getting excited to get out of town for a day.

Freya244117

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farmerlucy

I love my cancerversary. Birthdays? Meh. Cancerversary, oh yeah. Why you say? Because I get to click the lap-around-the-sun-ometer another time. On the 366th day post dx, I would tell myself, "Welcome to year two." Somehow making that number a little bigger makes me feel better.

It is funny that you say you are no longer afraid of cancer. I have similar feelings. Cancer has been a big, scary, witchy, shadow with knotted fingers reaching out for me my whole life. It took my sister when I was four, it took mama three days after my fifth birthday, it took my aunt. I lived in fear of it my whole life. I never knew anyone close to me who survived it. I even had my own breasts cut off to prevent it. Still it caught me. I was instantly devastated. Totally. Completely. I fell into a deep well of depression. To this day I shudder to think of that poor crumpled weeping suicidal woman that I was back then. It took many months and lots of love and support for me to heal. But heal I did. After fifty-one years I finally grieved my loses. No longer was cancer stuffed in the cupboard from 1965. The light of day was shining on it. It no longer looked that scary. Here we talked about, examined it, shared it. We aired it out. I now know thousands of women who have survived it. Strong, caring, fierce-some women.

That first experience of facing our own mortality is rough. It is a learning experience for sure. I've learned to not sweat the small stuff. I've learned to do what I love. I've learned to give love freely. None of us is promised tomorrow. I've learned to live today. You can't have today, cancer.

Michelle_in_cornland

Thank you for your reply, Farmer Lucy. I think this is going to be a great thread, where women can tell their stories. I don't think that I have seen another thread dedicated to the emotional side of mammoversaries. I do have to say, that I was "in the feels" today, which is one year to the day that I had my mammogram that started it all. Tomorrow is the actual date and I will be shopping out of town. It truly is amazing how we heal and move along with our lives. I don't sweat the small stuff anymore either, or big stuff for that matter. I had an oopherectomy/hysterectomy in January, and did not get rattled. It was my choice and I felt in control.

We we are initially diagnosed, we lose control over our emotions pertaining to cancer. The bc itself, does not usually cause problems at the early stage, it is the emotional side of diagnosis. Wouldn't it be great if breast centers that diagnose us, had a social worker on hand to help us deal with the onset of emotions? My emotional response was way over the top for the kind of cancer that we found.

I hope more women will contribute their stories, because others that are having emotional crisis upon diagnosis can see we are doing fine.

vlnrph

Hi Michelle, I hope your day of 'retail therapy' was enjoyable! Love World Market - we have two in the area.

As to my mammoversary, it was the same day at the end of February when our little poodle collapsed outside in the snow. His work-up, with referral to a canine cardiologist, showed pulmonary hypertension. He started Viagara and survived another half year, spending the summer as my chemo buddy.

I was distracted enough by his condition in addition to being surprised by the recommendation for biopsy that I didn't feel extremely distressed at that time. My usual coping mechanism is to research and seek information which kept me busy. If I know what to expect, I can handle it.

My real breakdown came two months later when the presence of micromets resulted in a second surgery. These events disrupted the plan I thought was in place and also set the stage for lymphedema to develop. I'm now out far enough to appreciate the good results I was able to receive and want to help educate others so they can be well.

gb2115

I haven't had my first cancerversary yet---that will come in early October. I am dreading that first mammogram, ugh, with the scar tissue from the lumpectomy. I've had a nice break from doctors since the end of April, but it all starts back up in September. Yuck.

Michelle_in_cornland

Dogs can be such a source of comfort and joy. My miniature (25 lb) schnauzer was by my side the entire time. I don't know what I would have done without him. He makes me feel secure and safe. I do have a wonderful husband, but he goes to bed at 9pm, and I go to bed much later. Sylvester, my dog, is so amazing with me.

Today is my daughter's 19th birthday. It is also one year to the date that I had my biopsy. Last year, I did not get to go to her party. This year, the party was very special to me. So far, she went for donuts with her day, played nine holes of golf, went to her fav place for lunch, and is out at our land shooting a crossbow. This has been a week of living it up for her.

I think that mammoversaries and our first mammo since diagnosis, can both bring unexpected feelings. I was nervous too, when I did my 6 month after radiation mammogram. I had several 3d mammos and ultrasounds done, and it was nerve wracking. I can see why women elect to have mastectomies. The emotional side of followup can be overwhelming. On the flip side, at least we are being watched closely for any further occurrence. Women who get mastectomies, will never have a mammogram again.

Our emotional state has to be a top priority to manage, because it sets the tone for us in living our lives. I hope that in the future there is more emphasis put on the emotional side of diagnosis and not just the physical.

Thank you girls for contributing. I think this is going to be a really good thread.

farmerlucy

Happy Birthday week to your daughter AND you!

My onc orders yearly MRIs for all her mx ladies. I have no idea how she gets them approved but I go with it.

You mentioned social workers above. My saving grace was my Stephen Minister assigned through my church. A Stephen Minister's job it to be an active listener. My hour a week with her was the only time I stopped shaking and having panic attacks in those early days. I felt I had to hide my authentic self from my family, especially my grown children, instead I spent way too much time trying to make things less scary for them. I think that came at a personal cost for me. In her day job my Stephen Minister was a cancer social worker at OU Medical Center. She was incredible and has since retired. I am forever grateful to her. The other key person in my recovery was my PCP. I cannot express enough how important it is to have a good relationship with a PCP.

If you are reading this, please know that you are not alone. I count the friendships I've made here among my treasures.

EastcoastTS

Farmerlucy:

Everything you write is always so comforting and lovely! Sometimes I think you guys are truly the only ones who understand.

Goincrzy8

Mine was not found on mammo. So I will be using Oct 18 as the date she said: You have Breast Cancer. That was 3 months after mammo ultrasound and biopsy.......because I felt something that did not show on mammogram, but could be felt at the 11 o'clock position.

farmerlucy

Aww thanks Eastcoast. Just paying it forward. Truely.

Goin - I had no idea mammos could miss stuff. So glad you listened to your inner voice.

EastcoastTS

My mammo completely missed my tumor. Which is not unheard of at all -- from what I've read here -- for ILC. Happens often, it seems. And I had been getting 3D mammos for, oh, about 8 years. Nada. The US may have even missed it if I had not pointed out the lump (which ILC often does not present as). My radiologist's first words: Good catch. How comforting! Yes, it was.

LOL. Crazy ass world we find ourselves in.

Michelle_in_cornland

I do feel that having this diagnosis, facing the initial actual words, "you have breast cancer" is a mental rebirth. People tell me that I am alot happier now, and I think I am. I have faced my worst fear and am here today to celebrate my daughter's birthday. So, however we count our day 1, it is a day of reckoning with ourselves and a new phase of our life.

When I was first diagnosed, I sought out the help of a counselor who had helped me through postpartum depression and a concussion from a ride. She knows me well and that helped, alot. My PCP was not the one I relied upon, it was my obgyn nurses, they were the ones ordering the mammogram and I really had a great team. My BS had an incredible staff, she was the best surgeon. My MO is awesome and so was my radiologist. I had support from all sides. But, like Farmer Lucy, I did not display any grief in front of my husband or children. I went to my sister's house every day for a week, and she went with me to my counselor. Slowly, over a period of a couple of weeks, I found my "land" legs and felt more in control.

I do think that breast centers need counselors to help deal with the emotional side of the diagnosis. They also need to know that how they deliver information has a large impact upon how we perceive our future. I had a very abrupt radiologist, who told me that my area was highly suspicious and that my lymph nodes looked good. I really thought I was getting someone else's diagnosis, as it was so surreal. I am thankful that my radiologist friend(who was out of the office that day) was at home and could do my biopsy the next morning. It was all too much to take in.

How do you think we can help other women, who fall apart at the time of diagnosis, mammoversaries, cancerversaries? I do think that having mammograms does bring up some of the old PTSD from the initial diagnosis and we relive that moment, over and over and over and over.

ChiSandy

I'm approaching my second mammoversary. Aug.17, 2015 was a normal day—in fact, I'd just gotten a new bra delivered—a golden-brown leopard print, and the mammo tech was really impressed that there could be anything that cool in large sizes. She said “we'll call you in a couple of days if we see anything," as 19 previous techs had said to me annually. Next morning I was getting ready to leave for a mani-pedi and reading my e-mail at the same time, when up popped “you have a new message" in my patient portal. It was the mammo report. I read, “Left breast: scattered fibroglandular densities, unchanged from prior mammograms. BIRADS 1: normal. Right breast…" and the words “focal asymmetry not present in 2013 or 2014" leaped out at me, as did the words “BIRADS 0: suggest diagnostic spot compression mammogram and/or followup ultrasound."

Now, I know the first advice we and our doctors give bc newbies is “don't Google." So of course, as I sat in the pedicure chair I Googled “focal asymmetry" and up popped a bunch of web pages all saying it meant that there was a spot on one breast either not there or located in a non-corresponding location in the other. For the first time, I was so numb I didn't feel the pain as the pedicurist worked on my ingrown toenails. On the way home, my gyne called and told me to schedule the diagnostic imaging ASAP.

I called, and the first appointment I could get was a week later—when I'd be in the air en route to a continuing legal ed course in entertainment law and a gig in New Orleans, another in Scranton, and a folk festival in a distant Chicago suburb. The gigs had been booked a year in advance, the airfare nonrefundable, the course also prepaid and nonrefundable. I threw myself on the mercy of the scheduler and she found me a slot for the day before my trip. In the meantime, I read everything legitimate I could find, including Komen, Avon, and the ACS. downloading the breast books by Drs. Susan Love & Elisa Port and a long article in the NY Times Magazine about Dr. Laura Esserman, who was questioning the overtreatment of DCIS and suggesting “watchful waiting" as a treatment alternative. I assumed that the worst this “focal asymmetry" could be was DCIS, and everything would be alright. I carried on as best I could—dinners out, a colleague's retirement party, a festival concert in WI to play. Just a “focal asymmetry," after all. Not even a “thing."

Tues. Aug. 24 arrived. This time, I was ushered into a waiting room instead of directly into the mammo room, given not just the ubiquitous pink gown but also a pink bathrobe. I was called into a different mammo room, and that tech told me “they found a 'density' in your right breast that wasn't in your left. So this is going to be a close-up of that 'density' so the radiologist can see it more clearly." I asked if it could have been a shadow, a wrinkle or even some of the previous day's antiperspirant, and she shook her head and said "no, that's not what it looks like. It's probably nothing but we need to check it out." So she did the squishing (only three views) and led me back to the waiting room. Several minutes later, she came back and said “the radiologist would like to do an ultrasound." Uh-oh.

So I lay on my back and then on my side while the radiologist moved the probe, slid and pressed, slid and pressed. Not a peep out of her. Then she said, “I'm turning the monitor around so you can see." Uh-to-the-oh. She pointed out what looked like a black jelly bean. “See this? Notice how when I press on it, it doesn't compress?" I knew that meant it wasn't a cyst. “Shit," I muttered. The doctor didn't try to reassure me, other than to say “it's only about 7mm" before “I'd like you to have a biopsy." I asked if she could do it then & there, and she said no, I'd have to discontinue a bunch of my meds for several days first. I then told her I wouldn't be available until two weeks later, and she said “it's not going anywhere, and it's been there awhile." So as I went into the scheduling nurse's room, I asked, “Most of these turn out benign, right?" She answered, “It is what it is."

Except for the coffeehouse gig's performance adrenaline (and some really good meals) in New Orleans, I sort of sleepwalked through the next week, especially when the patient portal message came in “BIRADS 4B, suspicious for malignancy." My brain was in an endless thought loop of “I might have cancer. It could be cancer. 80% of these are benign, don't worry. But what if it's not? OMG, I probably have cancer." It was cheaper to stay on in NOLA two nights after the course was over and fly to Philadelphia than go home and fly to Philadelphia from Midway. My singing partner picked me up at the airport and we drove to Scranton for the senior center gig. The next day, we hauled all our equipment into the vestibule and asked where to set up. “Who are you?" the receptionist asked. We told her we were there to do the show we'd booked the year before, at the conclusion of our previous show. The receptionist replied, “I don't have you on our calendar. There's nothing scheduled for today. Who booked you?" My singing partner gave the name, and the receptionist said, “oh, she's not here any more. And she must have taken her calendar with her." We asked that since we were there, why don't we just go ahead and play? She replied, “We have a volunteer coming in later to do singalongs. And we don't even have a budget for entertainment any more.“ I muttered under my breath to my partner that I could have left New Orleans the same day my course was over, saved the cost of four extra days on the road and already have been home and undergoing my biopsy. I was fuming as we walked to the car, and he turned on me and said “NEVER mention your problems. That's unprofessional." I snapped back, “Sorry, but this could be life & death. And how professional is not calling ahead to confirm a booking?" He conceded I had just as good a point, and never mentioned it again. Got home, changed clothes and went off to the festival.

Tues. Sep. 8 found me back in yet another room in the breast center, this time for the core-needle biopsy, which was swift and relatively painless. This radiologist was more personable and we were trading jokes as she worked. As I got off the table, she said, “We'll let you know in 3-5 business days. It's only 9mm, and worst comes to worst you'll probably be able to keep your breast." The next day, the breast center called to ask how I was doing and if I was having any pain, and I could truthfully say no. That evening I got another call, this time from my gyne's office. It was her partner, asking, “How's your pain?" I told her that the nurse had asked me earlier and I said I was fine. She sounded puzzled. “The note says call about pa…oh, wait a minute, I have your results. Invasive ductal carcinoma, grade 2. I'm so sorry" I felt the blood drain from my body. I had expected to hear either “It's benign" or “DCIS." Instead, it was incontrovertibly the real thing. I asked what about hormone receptors and HER2. She replied “positive for estrogen & progesterone, so that's good. Don't see anything about HER2." I thanked her and hung up, numb. I told my husband, son & sister that night. We had a bottle of sparkling rose in the fridge but we opened it anyway. “F**k cancer," we toasted. Next day my gyne was back from vacation. She called me to confirm, and said I was HER2-. so if I had to have invasive bc, it was as good as it gets. She suggested a couple of surgeons & an oncologist. A week later I met with the surgeon. The week after that, Sept. 23, was my mammo. And five days later I got my results. Other than size (1.3 cm), the results were the same—with the addition of node-negative and clean margins.

So here I am, nearly two years, 16 rads, and a year & a half of letrozole later (and counting). Since then, been to Europe four times, three music conferences in IA and NC, three more festivals, a breast cancer benefit (set up by our own HappyHammer) in NC, several family trips to NYC/DC/Boston, back performing in the Bar Assn. show (fall 2015 I didn't want to commit not knowing whether I could perform well during treatment, so I wrote for it instead), two birthdays, two anniversaries. My latest mammo last month was BIRADS 1 (normal) on the L, BIRADS 2 (benign) on the R. And the sweetest words of all: “routine followup bilateral screening mammo July 2018."

But the date that for me was the watershed, when everything that had come before would forever be on the other side of a break in time, is Aug. 18—the date I first learned that something might be wrong. So that's my “mammoversary."

farmerlucy

Sandy - "I assumed the worst it could be was DCIS." Somehow we think that the "19 previous" mammos give us some insurance. Nope. That is a real kick in the teeth. Thanks for sharing your story.

Michelle_in_cornland

Hope everyone is having an awesome weekend!!! Thanks for sharing your story, Chi Sandy. One day, our mammoversary stories could be a life line for someone else. I am having an terrific weekend!!

Michelle_in_cornland

So, anyone have a mammoversary or cancerversary coming up? I spent my weekend in solitude and it was wonderful. I did some beading, walking and reflecting on where my journey has taken me this year. My journey took me to the edge of fear, to the hospital for a lumpectomy, to the hospital for radiation, to the hospital for hysterectomy/oopherectomy, of course to my MO's office, to Las Vegas, to Milwaukee, to Chicago, and many trips to St. Louis. Most of all, my journey took/takes me to this website to chat with others moving through this experience, both physically and mentally.

Recently, I have been monitoring the not diagnosed but worried forum. So many young women are scared to death of having breast cancer. Most recently a 27 year old, with a negative mammogram, and 2 negative ultrasounds, wanted to know if she should get another opinion. Some people convince themselves that they have bc. Is the fear of breast cancer as devastating as the diagnosis? For me, the fear was crippling until I spoke with a therapist (within a few days of diagnosis.) I still can't believe that I had breast cancer. One year later, still in shock, somewhat. But grateful for all the support from my gals on here!!!!

Kicks

Hi Michelle - I just noticed that we have Aug 8 in common. It was Aug, 8 that I got my DX but years before you got yours - 2009. So today is 8 years since DX of IBC for me and still 'here', still NED, living and loving life every minute I have been blessed to have had and planning on MANY more years - at least 25. I have always planned on 'outliving' Nama (GMom) and Mom F (GGMom). They lived to 96 and 97 so at 71 now - I have to "keep on keepin' on" for at least 25 years. Both were active 'independent' women til the very end. Mom F was still riding her mare daily until mare had to be retired due to an injury shortly before she passed.

My wish for you today (and everyday) is that you are able to continue your journey down Life's Path with all the positive strength that is within you no matter the bumps and darkness that might be along the way, always always seeing the glorious sunshine that is ahead.

See you next year!

(My wishes go to all who are here!)

NineTwelve

I had my cancerversary this weekend. I had been thinking about writing a FB post, with my reflections, but then I thought, nah. The world is a different place today than it was three years ago when I got my diagnosis. Now it feels as if this one life is small potatoes in the scheme of things. The world needs help. I am doing okay right now. Sort of stable, not too many symptoms. I'm neither NED nor dead nor actively dying. I just am.

That feels pretty good most of the time. Just to connect with the simplicity of being. Just to be.

farmerlucy

nine twelve - 👍👍

Michelle_in_cornland

9-12, I would really like for you to write your story. This way we can memorialize how we arrived at this website, with this diagnosis. This world is not the same as it was even 1 year ago, but we are all important cogs in the wheel. So, if you feel like sharing, please do. I am sending you a big hug from the heartland.....

Bleeacct

My cancerversary is August 4. It was 1 year. Went in for routine mammogram with no lump or any other symptom. I could tell by the reaction a few days later of the person doing the biopsy it was not good. No family history, genetics, or anything. A total shock. After chemo, surgery, and radiation, it feels kind of odd not to have docs or any other tr e at men's to go to. I was Her2+ so a full year of the herceptin and now am feeling so many emotions. Scared as my next mammogram isn't until December since a blood clot set all the surgery and radiation back 2 months and then more problems. Now I am just petrified of going to surge on follow up and radiation follow up. I have fought depression for 40 plus years and was doing so good until Friday when I totally crashed and had no where to turn or anyone to talk to. I'm not sure if this is normal as it is not the normal me. I usually can find ways to conquer the fears and struggles, but it is tough. I want to rejoice and say I made it but am afraid to until that mammogram. I have been seeing a counselor at the cancer center here, but she couldn't seem to steer me to any help. I guess since I am better and surviving again, it is time to look for ways to share the good and beat the he fear down. I'm sure this is not what all cancerversaries should feel like, but I also feel there may be others that feel similar. Maybe next week after the doc appointments I will be able to say it is all good.

Bleeacct

my cancerversary is August 4. It was 1 year. Went in for routine mammogram with no lump or any other symptom. I could tell by the reaction a few days later of the person doing the biopsy it was not good. No family history, genetics, or anything. A total shock. After chemo, surgery, and radiation, it feels kind of odd not to have docs or any other tr e at men's to go to. I was Her2+ so a full year of the herceptin and now am feeling so many emotions. Scared as my next mammogram isn't until December since a blood clot set all the surgery and radiation back 2 months and then more problems. Now I am just petrified of going to surge on follow up and radiation follow up. I have fought depression for 40 plus years and was doing so good until Friday when I totally crashed and had no where to turn or anyone to talk to. I'm not sure if this is normal as it is not the normal me. I usually can find ways to conquer the fears and struggles, but it is tough. I want to rejoice and say I made it but am afraid to until that mammogram. I have been seeing a counselor at the cancer center here, but she couldn't seem to steer me to any help. I guess since I am better and surviving again, it is time to look for ways to share the good and beat the he fear down. I'm sure this is not what all cancerversaries should feel like, but I also feel there may be others that feel similar. Maybe next week after the doc appointments I will be able to say it is all good.

Michelle_in_cornland

Bleeacct, I think it is pretty common to actually "miss" the active treatment phase of having breast cancer. During that phase we are usually so busy, so tired, yet on track with our treatment plan. When we finish active treatment, there is a period of "let down." That is why this website is a really good catch-all, for our day to day living, challenges, goals and plans. It is normal to fear the followup mammogram. Are you triple positive? If so, are you taking anti hormonals? I think it is common to crash after the active treatment phase. By crashing, we get to regroup our thoughts and make changes where needed in our lives. You might find that the people on this website are more understanding of your situation and can offer practical advise.

I walk just about every day, for at least one hour, mostly 1 hour and 40 minutes. I think that has saved my sanity and improved my health. Know this, you are not alone. There are millions of women in the US that have gone through breast cancer treatment, with over 250,000 diagnosed each year. That number is larger than the entire city I live in. We (persons that faced breast cancer) represent 1% of all citizens of the US. That is pretty significant, 1% of 320,000,000, and maybe more that go undiagnosed. And, that number is just breast cancer. Now you see, you are really not alone. What state do you live in?

Sorella

I just passed my 1 year anniversary of my diagnosis, August 24th. Unfortunately, my dear friend was about to have a lumpectomy the next day. I am just glad that she is in 0 stage compared to my stage 3. So far afterward, she will only need radiation. I am glad I am here to help her and only want the easiest ride possible for her. Gosh, though I still wish I didn't have to go through all I did. I have had a very hard time with surgical healing and breast lymphedema. But I am thankful we all made it this far. Haven't gotten that follow up mammogram yet and will be quaking when that comes in October but I am here!

farmerlucy

Welcome to year two, Sorella!

Michelle_in_cornland

Yes, Sorella, welcome to year 2!!! Sorry to hear about the lymphedema and sorry to hear about your friend. But, the statistic stands, 1% of the US population are breast cancer survivors. We number well over 3,000,000 persons. The population of Philadephia and Phoenix combined equals the numbers of breast cancer survivors.

Falconer

Hi Michelle, today marks 1 year, like you, when the surgeon took the cancer out of my body. The hormone therapy is the insurance that I pay but I'll take it. I ran 5k today and cooked enchiladas for dinner using lots of fresh tomatoes from the farm. Keep on keepin on!

Michelle_in_cornland

Falconer, thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot. Just had a big dejavu feeling sweep over my body. Wow. There are no words to describe this last year, except wow.

Trishyla

Tomorrow is one year since my initial diagnosis. Didn't think I would be emotional about it, but I am. My daughters took me to Cheesecake Factory last night for my birthday and I burst into tears right at the dinner table. Talk about embarrassing.

Trish