Walk Like a Diva

Saturday, my family and I participated in the Walk Like a Diva 5K Family Fun Walk in my little part of the world, Kingwood, Texas. It was a GORGEOUS day! The route traversed some of the most beautiful greenbelt trails Kingwood has to offer: through the woods and along the lakeshore. The ladies who organized this inaugural walk did a great job, as there were refreshments and vendor booths and even a bounce house for the kids afterwards. And all for a great cause: The Avon Foundation for Women (more info, below.) The Pink Ribbon Shop is planning to partner with the KingwooDDivas for next year's walk -- hoping for an even bigger turnout = even more $$$ for Avon's Walk for Breast Cancer.

As I mentioned in a previous post, the organizers asked me to speak before the walk. It may not seem like much for some of you out there who are accustomed to speaking in public as a crusader for the breast cancer awareness cause, but it was huge to me! I think it went well, except for the fact that I was up late and had a house full of teenagers, AND I was sick with allergy/sinus issues and had NEARLY LOST MY VOICE the night before the walk! I mean really, what are the odds? I am hardly ever sick like this! Anyway, they say God works in mysterious ways, right? So the morning of the walk my voice was a little better, but definitely still very hoarse -- I didn't sound like me at all! Also, the Diva-mobile of sort that I was supposed to stand on/in to speak, wouldn't start that morning, so I would be speaking at ground level in front of the walk participants. OK, no big deal, it was a really small crowd anyway, since it was the "1st annual" walk of its kind. And with the organizers trying to keep costs down as much possible, there was no microphone, only a megaphone with a handheld talkie-into-thingy. Not what I expected, but hey, it'll work.

I had been thinking of "the talk" for a couple weeks, so I had an idea of what kinds of things I wanted to touch on and focus on, but I didn't put pen to paper (or rather, fingers to keyboard) until Thursday night. I'm a last minute kinda gal! I don't recommend being that way, by the way. I really didn't have any trouble, though, because as I said I had been working on it in my head for some time. Danny proofed and tweaked a couple things with me. Then Friday night he asked if I had memorized it! I was like, "NO!" It never even occurred to me to memorize the whole thing. I thought I could handle not "reading" the speech -- alternating looking up at the people with glancing at my notes. He said he would have memorized it ... which got me thinking that I would probably look stupid holding my printed notes in front of me. Great, I was going to look dumb! Way to go, Kim. Oh well it was too late to cram speech memorization before the next morning. It was going to be what it was going to be!

Some background information about the walk ... The KingwooDDivas, a team made up of a group of local women, will be walking in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer (Houston) April 21-22. The Walk Like a Diva walk was a fundraiser for the KingwooDDivas team, so proceeds from from the Diva walk ultimately benefits the Avon Foundation for Women, who then distributes funds via their grant process to local organizations for awareness and education, screening and diagnosis, access to treatment, support services and scientific research. If you're interested, you can read more about the Avon walks here: http://www.avonwalk.org/.

I had Danny video the talk, mostly for my own use, but afterwards I felt really good about it and received some positive feedback and thought I might post the video to this blog, or maybe even link to it from our site and/or Facebook page. But after seeing it ... well ... I wasn't happy with the way I looked or sounded! I was hoarse and still sick (and fairly well-medicated, I might add, with anti-histamine, anti-inflammatory and sinus med) and I sounded like a MAN. I guess it's common that people who don't often speak in public aren't used to the way they sound, sick or not sick, right? Anyhoo ... I was pleased with the substance/content of the talk, just not the communication of it by me. Also, it was a little breezy and there was kid noise, and let's face it, the megaphone didn't make for great-sounding audio. Plus my (new) friend and team leader / walk organizer Amanda held the mouthpiece for me (because remember, I had to hold my notes because I hadn't memorized my talk,) close to my face so it would work its best, so even the visual of me talking is obstructed. Sighhhhhh.

Then I had the ambitious idea that I would make a slide show of all the walk pictures and make a new audio of my talk to play during said slide show. But the way I am still suffering with allergy/sinus junk, and the way my voice still sounds, it looks as though I am not going to be "sounding like myself again" for weeks, maybe! Plus the project itself would take time. I don't have a staff of folks who can put something like that together for me! I definitely didn't want to wait that long to get this out for those who missed it -- which is a LOT of people, being that the event was new and small-ish.

So here it is ... the "transcript" of the pre-walk talk I gave at Saturday's Walk Like a Diva 5K Family Fun Walk. Enjoy!

Good morning! I’d like to tell you a little about myself:
I’m a cat lover, I love to travel, I love taking pictures, I love nature, and I
love to hike and see places you just can’t see from a car window. I’m a
fan of any team or group my kids are in, and I’m a Saints fan. I like
windchimes, sunsets and waterfalls. I like to run and hug and bike and eat
out. I read a lot.

I’ve sold shoes, bagged groceries, managed a medical office, worked as a
labor delivery nurse and run my own business.

I am a mom of 4, grandmother of 3, a wife, daughter, sister, aunt,
daughter-in-law, mother-in-law and friend. I’m a dance mom, sports mom,
and band mom. I’m a taxi driver for my own children.

And I am also a breast cancer survivor.

At age 32, with a 12 year-old, 2 year-old and 6-month old, I had never even
thought about breast cancer. It was something that other, older women got. I was healthy and young and busy. I worked full time. I had 3 kids! Sure, I knew about breast self exams, but I didn’t do them regularly. But like too many, like way too many, young women these days, I had breast cancer.

It can happen to anyone. It can happen no matter how old or young you are. It can happen no matter how physically fit or active you are. Rich or poor. Man or woman. Skinny or not-so-skinny. It can happen whether or not cancer runs in your family.

It can happen to YOU!

I have to live with the “what if” questions such as “What if I would have examined myself regularly before my cancer started causing me pain? What if I had caught it before it had spread to my lymph nodes? But dwelling on the “what ifs” served no useful purpose for my immediate situation. I had to move on! I focused on doing everything I could to get the cancer out of my body as quickly and efficiently as medically possible. I underwent aggressive surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments. I wanted to – I needed to -- put it behind me and get on with my life.

That was 12 years ago! I’m still here! And I’m here to say that there. is. hope. Sure, I’ve had some tough times. My cancer hasn’t been “in remission” all these years. In fact, in 2006, it returned as stage IV, metastatic breast cancer, having spread to my bones and lungs. Whether you’re newly diagnosed, or a long term survivor, or even if you have a friend or family member with breast cancer, know that there is hope.

Here’s some of what I’ve accomplished since being diagnosed: I’ve had another child – finally got my boy! -- yes, it’s possible. I’ve hiked to waterfalls and witnessed sunsets from mountain tops and ocean shores. I’ve run 2 half-marathons (which I like to think of as one whole marathon!) I’ve started my own business. I’ve tirelessly photographed my children’s events – okay maybe not tirelessly – they wear me out! But I want you to know that there is hope to keep going, to keep living, and to living longer, even with breast cancer.

Today I am one of approximately 200,000 women in the U.S. living with stage IV breast cancer. Six years ago when I was told that my cancer had spread, we thought that surely my time was up. But it wasn’t! Today, my treatment includes drugs that didn’t exist 12 years ago, or even 6 years ago. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for the major progress cancer research has made in the last decade. Today, women with stage IV breast cancer, like me, are leading fuller lives and living longer than ever
before. It’s like we’re living with a chronic disease as opposed to being issued an immediate death sentence.

There is hope -- because of events like these. And because of people like you, helping fund the fight, to find a cure. It’s making a difference! I am living proof that it is making a difference! So I thank you, all of you! My family thanks you! Because you are here, I am still here, and so are many others.

My hero, My mother

Jessica,

It is so hard to see people we love go through cancer. You are an amazing woman who made many sacrifices for your mom. You have a servant's heart. God is working through you.

Amy

My name is Jessica,

My mother and hero was a cancer survivor. It was the hardest thing I ever went through in my life. Even though I didn't personally didn't have breast cancer I felt as if I did because of how much I loved here, I love her so much I would have took this horrible cancer that is killing and putting people through hell into me so she wouldn't have had to go through that torture. Every day I saw the most important person in my life getting sicker, weaker, and less hopeful. I actually even got divorced because my husband couldn't take me always caring for my mother so I eventually moved in with her so I couldn't take care of her full-time. My job even had to let me go. but none of all that mattered to me. All I cared about was the life of my mother and I was determined to get her to survive this. I believe if I wasn't there for my mother the way I was she probably would have died. I took her to every doctors appt., I waited on her hand and foot and thankfully she survived it. If I had to go through that all again I would in a heart beat. As long as I had her I was happy and grateful. Nobody means as much to me in my life as she does. So to everyone who knows someone with breast cancer I highly advise you to do your best to help them and give them the hope I gave my mother. She still to this day tells everyone I saved her life. I never let her give up hope. I hope my story inspires those who are in mine or similar situations.
All it takes is positive thinking and having GOD by your side.

Get Outta the Way

Heather,

Thank you so much for sharing this story with us. Your mother is very courageous and brave. She is a role model for all of us.

Amy

I am 5’4 and always considered myself a tomboy, trying to keep up with my much taller, older brother. I started my period very early, so it wasn’t long before I started developing breasts as well. It was so frustrating - they just kept growing, doubling in size seemingly overnight. When I would get dressed for third grade - I would cup my hands over them and pull them to the side, sighing, “if only you’d just get outta the way.” Sure, both my sister and I were made fun of for developing before other girls - our brother and his friends tormented us mercilessly. But, shopping for our “training” bras was the worst - there weren’t large enough cup sizes in that section. So, we had to find something in the ladies department. It was too late - there would be no “training” involved.
Through my teenage years, I attained kind of a love-hate relationship with them. I still felt like they were in the way, but had to admit that they filled out a shirt rather nicely. On occasion, I would still push them to the side and mumble under my breath, “if only you’d just get outta the way.”
The first time I had ever heard of breast cancer is when I was quite young. My mother’s Uncle had a mastectomy to remove first one breast and then the other, but he died anyway in the mid-1970s. In my early 20s, my mom and I can created a new sort of bond, with me as her caretaker after she sustained a brain injury and had to regain her independence. We were together day and night and talked about everything under the sun, repeatedly, because she didn’t have the ability anymore to remember beyond a few minutes or hours. With this new closeness and intimacy because I was responsible for bathing and dressing her - we may have talked about body image, but I really don’t remember.
A few years later, the dreaded “C” word of my mom’s generation reared it’s ugly head in our lives. She had regained sufficient independence to live on her own and was responsible for getting herself to her own doctor’s appointments at that point in her life. So, she was by herself when she was told after her annual exam that she had breast cancer. In her typical self-reliant manner, she didn’t tell any of us. I used my key and came to visit her at her house one day when she wasn’t expecting me. I found her in her bedroom, undressed from the waist up, with her well-worn hands cupping her breasts. Her head was bowed, as though to whisper to them and I heard her say, “you WILL get outta my way.” Shocked that she knew my secret wish from my childhood, I felt comfortable asking her why she was saying that to her own body. She shared that she was sick, but that her breasts weren’t going to stand in the way of her growing older.
She fought and won that battle with stage IIIC breast cancer and her breasts did end up getting out of the way. She decided that her body, although sick, was willing to listen to her. So, she developed a “get outta the way” attitude in other aspects of her life. A hill in the middle of a breast cancer awareness walk - “that hill isn’t going to get outta the way - I am going to beat it too.“ She trudged forward. A concerned daughter or doctor telling her to limit her activities, “get outta my way, I’ve got lots more living to do.” And she has, this is year six of her Surviving, Overcoming and Winning against breast cancer.
So, for me - she serves as a role model and inspiration. She is a little older, a lot wiser and has a new and unique way of doing things. She grocery shops by pink label, making meals out of strange combinations of foods bearing the pink ribbon. Most of her exercise is about getting ready for Walk for the Cure, Awareness or Relay and her vacation destinations are to join walks in other cities. Her wardrobe mainly consists of t-shirts from these events and comfortable shoes for going the distance. And she does… so obstacles be warned, “Get Outta The Way!”
Heather

Toni's Inspiring Story of Faith & Survival

Toni, a fellow MD Anderson patient, has gained a lot of wisdom through her cancer experience and years. She has a strong faith in God and has learned to put her trust in Him. Her story is sure to inspire any of you going through a diagnosis or treatment of breast cancer.

My survival story

My name is Toni and I am a SURVIVOR! My story is probably not unique or different than many others but hopefully it will help someone else get through the process of treating the way that other survivors have helped me. Just prior to finding my lump, I had had a new premature grandbaby that I was helping raise, she was so small and fragile when she was born that I made lots of "deals" with God during her stay in the hospital. I was busy working full time in my private practice as an attorney, adjusting to being a Grandma and doing what I could to help my daughter get on her feet.

Soon after that my other daughter had a seizure in my presence and it was determined that she had a cyst in her brain. The cyst was causing her seizures and was in a place where it was not operable. Again, I began bargaining with God. "Please God, she is just starting her life and has so much living left to do, please take this away from her and give it to me, What ever you ask of me or give to me I will gladly bear it, just don't let this affect her life."

Soon after that I found my lump, and instinctively knew this was going to be my test. It was time to pay the piper so to speak. And as I expected it was cancer. I was facing the biggest fear of my life. I was always so afraid of getting cancer especially breast cancer. Suddenly, I was faced with the possibilities of losing everything that made me feminine and womanly, my breasts and my hair. Yeah, I know the hair grows back but . . . in the meantime, you still have to go around bald. And OK I did not want to go through treatment and whine around and look like a big baby. How was I going to handle cancer. Would I be able to handle it with dignity and grace or would I be a whiner??? And, there was the deal I had made with God about "gladly bearing" whatever he wanted to toss at me. Could I hold up my end of the bargain? How in the heck could I be glad about cancer. Ok God, I know I said I would gladly bear it but really do I have to be glad? Oh ,by the way, I did put one condition on God, He had to talk me through it. I had to have clear cut messages from him that he was with me holding me in his arms every step of the way.

Thus began my journey down the rocky path of breast cancer. My biggest concern throughout treatment was how it would affect my family, particularly my father because his health was not the greatest, and I knew my kids were scared too. In more ways than one my concern over the effects my health was having on my family made me stronger, or appear so anyway. I guess it was a "fake it until you make it" situation. The more I pretended that life was normal the less likely I was to let the cancer take control of my life. I was determined throughout to not let cancer run or ruin my life. I continued to get dressed every day and go to work. Often times I would have to make a pallet and rest on the floor but I made it to work. My colleagues were tremendous, offering to cover for me when I had to attend doctors appointments or just did not feel well enough to go to court. Oh, and the messages from God? Got them Loud and strong. Regularly. So much so that I could not possibly tell them all here.

Being an attorney and accustomed to research, I started out researching and reading everything I could about breast cancer , treatment options and of course mastectomies and reconstruction. I found the information out there to be somewhat frightening. The pictures I saw made me cringe. OH God am I really gonna look like that??? I soon decided that I would go against my nature and quit researching anything but where and how I wanted to approach treatment. I wanted thing to be different for me. Fortunately, I was directed to MD Anderson in Houston and found not only a wonderful hospital and very qualified doctors and staff, but what I found there which was more important than all the medicine in the world was the air of hope! The people there all the way from the valet parking attendants to the doctors and surgeons are so upbeat and positive, you cannot help but catch the spirit! That infectious attitude kept me going and in turn kept my family reassured that I would be OK. Additionally, at a teaching hospital you have an opportunity to participate in test study groups and I was encouraged in my own treatment by knowing that I would in some way help my daughters and granddaughter and the women who came after me even if it was a failure, the test study results would help others who came after me. I took great pride in participating in those groups. As silly as it sounds I wanted so much for the study to be a great success I almost willed myself to get better. The results were positive! My study was a combination of chemotherapy drugs which had not been used to treat breast cancer before. The treatment was done prior to surgery to see the effects on the tumor. In 12 weeks my 2 1/2 cm tumor reduced in size to .7 cm. After another 12 weeks of traditional chemo the tumor reduced to such a minuscule amount that the surgeon had to place a marker at the tumor site to be able to find it to remove it. I chose a segmental mastectomy instead of a radical because of the success of the medication. This did require additional treatment in the form of radiation but I felt it was a small price to pay under the circumstances.

I had a friend that just prior to my diagnosis was training and raising money for the Susan G. Komen 3-day walk and I told her she had a renewed purpose because she was walking for me. I was even able to go down for closing ceremonies which was ironically exactly the half way mark in my treatment. Seeing all the survivors walking in the walk arm in arm with their shoes held proudly overhead made me realize that I was truly not alone and that there was life after cancer treatment. In my chemo induced fog, I just marveled at how "normal" these women looked! I vowed at that moment that I would walk in the next three day walk and began training while I was still treating. Not much but I began walking and doing some Yoga.

I think that the theme throughout my story is that even though you are feeling like crap, it is your current reality and you should not quit living with purpose just because you are treating for cancer. Live with a purpose! Get well! and Blaze a trail for others coming after you.

Today, I have a happy healthy two year old granddaughter who is the light of my life. My daughter who was diagnose with the cyst has graduated from college and is now moving on to work in her field, and I am happy and healthy and continuing on with my life.

Strange as it sounds, Cancer has a certain strange beauty about it. Not the cancer itself but the experience you gain during treatment. While I would never want to go through it again, I felt truly blessed through the experience. I met survivors down my path that shared their stories of survival with me, sisters that truly understood what I was going through. I was blessed to add many friends to my life. And I gained a knowledge of my strength that I never would have known had I not had the experience. So, for anyone reading this that is currently treating I would say, Don't look back, don't look ahead, just be in the moment and get through it the best way you can and take comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone. Your sisters have paved the way for you and are here to hold your hand and comfort you along your journey.

Much love and good health,
Toni C.

Mary W., 56 y.o. 12 Year Survivor

Hi Mary,

Thanks for sharing your story.

First of all, what a jerk your husband is! Ok I just had to say that. But you know, everything happens for a reason and God is in control of everything. Glad you are able to see the positives that came out of you having cancer.

My name is Mary. I am 56 and a 12 year surivor of breast cancer. I have also been divorced for 12 years since my husband and father of 2 of my children, told me the day I called him to tell him my diagnosis that he wanted a divorce.

My children were 7,9 and 17 at the time of my diagnosis in September 1996. My youngest was scared and my 9 year old, a daughter with Down's Syndrome, didn't understand it. My oldest was so afraid he would lose me. After being reassured I would do all the doctors told me to, and have lots of help from families, friends and our faith, they calmed down. It was so difficult initially to imagine going through surgeries, chemotherapy and radiation alone but I was never alone. My mother and step father stayed with us for several days after each chemo treatment. I saw this time as a time of opportunity, special times to get closer to my three children and they to me as well as their grandparents. I was able to volunteer in their classrooms when I was between treatments and feeling so much better. Even at my weakest, my children would come home from school and climb on my bed telling me about their day and at night when the "alone-ness" was felt they would check on me, put my music cassettes on to help me sleep better.

I had a wonderful book given to me by my oconologist that had survivors stories and quotes in it and my favorite was about this disease affecting my body and mind but not my spirit. I tried so hard even when my hair was falling out, to keep a positive spirit. My wig wasn't a reminder of my cancer, but that I looked pretty hot as a redhead! I continue to encourage friends who are going through cancer and give them some of my helpful hints - anything to make it a little less frightening. Probably the best thing I did was to have a port installed for the chemo and the blood draws....I was fortunate to have the chemos given in my home by the nurse.

I came through it all with a better more confident sense of myself. I see myself as brave and know that I simply did what I had to do. My 3 children are all remarkably loving, kind, patient and involved in giving back to the fight to find a cure for cancer. Although at the time of the divorce I thought it was horrible, it actually was a decision I am thankful for now.

Thank you,
Mary W.
Palm Springs, CA.

Survivor Story - Monica M., Age 36

Thanks for sharing your story, Monica. I can relate to many aspects of your story, since I was 32 with 3 kids (12, 2 & 6 mos) when I was first diagnosed. And thanks for the touch of humor ... you can't get through this journey without it.

Kim

My name is Monica Malone. I am 36 years old. I am a wife, mother, daughter, and friend. I live in the middle of no where better known as Proctor, Arkansas. My husband Randy and I are the proud parents of Lyndsey, 18, Taylor, 11, and Mason, 9. This is my story.

The fall of 2006 was forever life-changing. My mom was dying of pancreatic cancer, and my daughter was turning 16. I found a lump in my breast. I knew instantly it was cancer. I was 33 years old. Who has cancer at 33? I did. Within a matter of 6 weeks, I had a biopsy, a mastectomy, a port placement, my 1st chemo treatment, and slept through my daughter’s 16th birthday.

Pink became the family’s favorite color. Not red, but pink. The color of survival. The color that gave us hope. I had fears to face. Pink became my armor. Chemo was my first fear.

I was scared to death to face chemo. Yes because of all the side effects of chemo…hair loss, nausea, vomiting, the loss of my “normal” life, but more so that I was going to be with old people who were ready to die. I was only 33. I was not ready to die. I soon realized how much I had in common with the others. We were all fighting to live. I then had to face the fear of how my children would deal with me being sick from treatment. I was their mother, the taxi driver, the baker, the social secretary. What was going to happen? My family happened. My husband became the taxi driver, my daughter the social secretary, and my boys remained boys. I learned that no matter how weak the chemo made me, I was just as strong a mother from the couch as I was in the driver’s seat.

My next fear was radiation. Were they going to give me too much? How bad was it going to burn me? While radiation was not as harsh as chemo, the sound of that heavy door closing was enough to shake any one’s soul. But with every slam of that door, I was one step closer to being deemed cancer free.

Throughout this journey I have learned my share of lessons. Cancer does not mean death. Kids are resilient and cope better than many adults. Friends you did not know you had become the ones you cannot live without. Wigs are hot and no one will tell you it is crooked.

I am a simple person. I do not ask for lavish things. I love God, my family, my friends, my life. As you read my story, I hope that you this with you. Do not use cancer as an excuse. It is not. So what if you sleep through a birthday party. Who said that you could only have one party? Do not let cancer rule your life, rule the cancer. Use it to your advantage. Talk to people, tell them your story. They might need to hear it. Better yet, you might to need to hear theirs.

I am now finished with chemo, radiation and 42 weeks of Herceptin. I take Tamoxifen everyday. My cancer markers are within an acceptable range. I have shoulder length hair that beats any wig. I wear a prosthetic breast that is known to make an unexpected public appearance at any given time. I am a survivor.

Survivor Story - Sherry C.

You GO, Sherry! The reason I called this blog "Ya Only Live Once" is because, since having cancer, I try to live by those words. After I was diagnosed with a Stage IV recurrence in 2006, I vacationed to the Rocky Mountains (which I'd wanted to see for a long time,) thinking I better do the things I've always wanted to, and SOON! I finally started getting my photo albums in order (okay ... that endeavor was short-lived!) and I visited friends and family I hadn't seen in a long time. But a year or 2 into my very successful treatment, I started to realize that we, all of us, should ALWAYS live ilke this! Because I have cancer, I've been given a big reminder of my impending mortality. But the truth is, lives are taken in an instant in car crashes, heart attacks, you name it. You never know when your time will come. Or your loved ones'! So don't put off the things in life you've always wanted to do. Ya only live once! :)

In Feb, the Dr. called me to say the biopsy did not look good and that as soon as all the tests were complete, he would call me again. Two days later he called to say "Well, you DO have cancer" and then asked me to come seehim the next day after undergoing my first CT/Bone Scan. That was hard as the x-ray tech grilled me about why I was having it done. After about three attempts of saying it any which way other than using the C word, I finally blurted out, "I have CANCER." Me? I thought about it and soon came to the realization it was true. That afternoon, in a further whirlwind of the mind, I was in the Dr.s office. He first asked "why is there no one with you?" Well, I am single and miles away from any family. We both sat down on his sofa and he began drawing diagrams, listing statistics, and then in a seperate column laying down my personal data. A family history, repeated biopsys, and the type I had. By the end, it was decided a double mastectomy was best....next week!

The day came and very calmly I lay on a strectcher with friends coming in to pray with me, laugh with me, and wish me well. The Dr.'s last words before surgery was "I don't expect any surprises!" Well, that was short lived when he called me two days after I left the hospital. "I thought we had gotten it all, but we took out a few lymph nodes just to make sure. The results were...now he struggled for words....it has spread. You need chemo. Its stage 11B or [perhaps 111?) Well, luckily I am now 3 years out and so far "cancer free", but another developement came...I also have SLE. So I am still on a milder form of oral chemo and go in every six to eight weeks for an IV treatment.

Whatever, I celebrate each day I wake up, each time I have another clear CT/Bone Scan and every time I find another positive thing towards my future. Right after the chemo was done, I took a mini dinner cruise, a year later a hot air balloon ride, and now I am looking forward to a helicopter tour. Celebrate your life, no matter how big or how small a milestone maybe. Just because cancer may have challenged you, it doesn't mean you can't challenge yourself. Live to tell about your adventures, most of all do whatever you can to live, live, LIVE!(and of course love and laugh too).

Sherry C.

Send us your stories!

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer in early 2000, after my initial, medical information-gathering stage, I found that reading about how other women coped with their illness and treatments was very helpful. My doctor gave me a locally-published book that was entitled The Many Faces of Breast Cancer (no longer in print.) It was a short book in which breast cancer survivors (my doctor's patients) talked about their ordeal in simple, girlfriend-to-girlfriend type language. It was awesome. I ate it up. I found the narratives and practical advice & tips coming straight from women who were going through the same things as I to be tremendously helpful and supportive.

So in the early days of pinkribbonshop.com, we carried the book in our product line and offered it at our cost. I thought it was that good. And necessary. Wanting to reach even more people with the same kind of information that I had found so helpful, we asked for breast cancer survivors and their friends, family, & caregivers to share their stories with us, and we would post the stories on our website's "Survivor Stories" page. It was slow going at first, but eventually the stories started flowing in. The response was overwhelming! We devoted an endless page on our website (see a pared-down version of the archived survivor stories here) to these amazing stories.

Because breast cancer is an equal opportunity illness and does not discriminate, women of all ages, races, backgrounds, and socio-economic status wrote in. Because breast cancer affects not only the patient, but also family and friends, we received stories from survivors' husbands, sisters, daughters, moms, and friends. Because breast cancer is still a killer, despite the millions of dollars being thrown at research around the globe, we heard from many people who had lost someone dear to them. Because breast cancer's face and course of treatment can take many different forms, our storytellers each had unique diagnosis, treatment, medical, surgical, and emotional components to their stories.

We were receiving several stories a day. People were even writing in wanting contact information on some of the writers, so that they could contact them directly and chat. It was great, but also a little overwhelming. The process by which we received them and then posted them on the website was time-consuming and, by today's standards, archaic. We simply couldn't keep up! Sadly, we realized we could no longer continue collecting and posting stories, while providing the level of personal service that our customers deserved.

Fast forward a couple of years, and here we are. I am hoping that this new blog can pick up where our old "Survivor Stories" page left off, but in a more interactive fashion. Yes, it's my blog, and it's called "Ya Only Live Once ... A Survivor's Journey." But I would love for it to become a place where survivors and others can go when they want to read and chat with people who have gone in their shoes. The journey of many survivors!

So please, email YOUR story to us at survivors@pinkribbonshop.com! We want to post them here, to help, support, and inspire others who are going through their cancer walk just as you have.