“Your biopsy came back positive. You have breast cancer.”
Nothing can ever prepare a woman for those words and I certainly wasn’t ready to hear them 2 1/2 years ago. But whether or not you are ever prepared for a diagnosis, you face it. You deal with it. And you eventually learn to accept–and even embrace–the awful and beautiful gift that cancer is.
After my diagnosis, I had a bilateral mastectomy followed by the reconstruction process-which I thought would never end. And I was one of the fortunate ones since I didn’t need chemo. I have some friends who had mastectomies and chemo and reconstruction and I am in absolute awe of them because they walked a much longer, more difficult road than I ever did.
But a breast cancer diagnosis–chemo or no chemo–is a tough, tough thing. (Scroll to bottom of page to read an excerpt from a post I wrote about my diagnosis day.)
I am finally on the other side of my cancer journey and doing great. But just because I am doing so well doesn’t mean that I don’t frequently think about my cancer sisters who are either newly diagnosed or currently going through treatment. And because I feel such a kinship with those women, I am extra glad to be able to do a little something on Smthellaneous today that will accomplish two good things:
1) Give you a chance to win a beautiful necklace.
2) Point you to even more jewelry on a website that supports breast cancer research.
By way of a little background, Holly–a breast cancer survivor–has designed and created a Special Edition pink ribbon jewelry collection and will pledge $5.00 of every Special Edition sale to the Dr. Susan Love Research Foundation. Each sale will increase funding for breast cancer research, prevention and awareness.
Here’s what the necklace looks like that I’m giving away. It sells for $38 and is made from Niobium and rose quartz with a silver overlay chain.
And here are all three pieces in the special edition collection.
And just what do you have to do to be eligible to win this lovely, meaningful piece of jewelry? Just leave a comment consisting of the names of one or two (or three) women you know and love who have dealt with breast cancer. And if that woman is you? List your own name. We are going to have our own Wall of Courage here on Smithellaneous today
One name will be picked from everyone who leaves a comment and the winner will be announced on Wednesday.
I’ll close with the retelling of my Diagnosis Day, March of 2010. It’s good for me to go back and read over these words again because they remind me of how far I’ve come.
March 2012
At 5:30 Thursday afternoon, as I was about to put some chicken in the oven, my phone rang.
It was the doctor.
He started the conversation with, “Well, I got your letter asking to get the results over the phone instead of coming in on Monday. And since you went to the trouble of writing and asking, I’ll make an exception to my usual rule.”
At that point, I suddenly decided that I didn’t really want to hear the results after all. Instead, I wanted to put my fingers in my ears and say, “Nah, nah, nah” so loudly that I wouldn’t be able to hear him. I wanted to shout, “No, no! Tell me Monday! Tell me Monday!”
However, since I figured that a woman shouting “Nah, nah, nah” and “Tell me Monday!” into the phone might be somewhat disconcerting to the good doctor, I managed to keep myself quiet during that wee space of eternity when the smallest of silences preceded the loudest of messages.
He said, “I have good news and I have bad news. The bad news is that you have cancer. The good news is that we caught it early.”
At that moment, I had a strong sense of déjà vu because, for the previous few days, I had kept hearing in my heart, “Good news, bad news. Good news, bad news.” The doctor said exactly what I “knew” he was going to say.
We talked a few minutes more and then I hung up. And gazed blankly out the window. And stared at the phone in my hand. And pondered the words that had just entered my ears, my brain, my life, my existence.
“You have cancer.”
I didn’t cry right then. I didn’t feel the need to. Instead, I just felt the need to hang on desperately to the numbness that had mercifully accompanied the staggering wave that had just swept through my life.
After a few minutes of standing stock still, alone in the kitchen, I finally gathered up my courage to walk upstairs to tell Steve who had been taking a brief, pre-dinner nap.
I went into the room and said, “Dr. Habal just called.”
I’ve never see Steve wake up so fast in my whole life. His eyes widened slightly and his expression intensified into a look of fast focus as he looked at me.
And I said simply, “It’s cancer.”
He was off the bed and had his arms around me before I could say another word; we stood quietly for a few seconds, a few tears finally falling down my face as I thought of what this news would mean for him as well as for me.
After he and I had talked about ten minutes, we realized the time had come to tell Sarah. Sweet, sweet Sarah, who has fought her own battle with her own cancer monster and won. Sweet, sweet Sarah, whose life would also be irrevocably changed by my words.
I didn’t want to tell her. I wanted to shield her from the news. I wanted her mommy to be healthy and “there” for her every moment she might need me. I knew that the diagnosis would mean times spent away from her, times that I wouldn’t feel well, times when I wouldn’t have the energy to see to her needs.
And I just didn’t want to say the words; I didn’t want to face the scenarios that my words would usher in. But it had to be done.
She was upstairs in her third floor room, puttering around in blissful ignorance when Steve called her down to our bedroom. When she walked into the room I quietly said, “Sarah, honey. You and I are now part of the same club.”
Since she knew we were waiting on the call, it only took half a second for the meaning of the words to sink in. Her face crumpled into tears and she said, “Oh, Mom. Oh, no!”
And then I stood up to gather her into my arms. She cried, and I cried, and Steve stood with his arms around us both, praying for us. Praying for himself. Praying for us all. Praying for grace and peace and strength for the journey.
And as tears and love flowed through the room, we truly did feel at peace; we truly did feel that the difficult road ahead of us would be paved with grace.
After about ten minutes, we were able to talk about it a little and–in true Smith Family Fashion—even find a few things to laugh about. Because you know what? Sometimes laughter is just as healing as tears.
Here are two pictures from that chapter of life:
This was taken on April 28, 2010 a couple of days after my mastectomy. (My mom and sister flew in from Wisconsin to help take care of me.) I was on pain meds and nauseated and felt like I would never feel like myself again.
Just a short while later (May 15), I was ready for church and getting used to the “new normal” of my life.
I was so proud of myself for getting through something I never thought I would have the courage to face.
And I learned through the whole experience that you truly can do what you have to do–and come out on the other side with sanity, self esteem, and peace of mind intact.
Hello…My name is Pam.I lost my Mom from horrible thing called breasted cancer..She passed away this year March 11th 2012 at 8:45 AM..I was with her my Mommy my best friend…I miss her so bad that it literally hurts my heart. I would not have taken anything to have spent those last few minutes with her. She always wanted me to sleep with her in her hospital bed…I am not a small woman but. I managed to get in.there with her…I know she is with me..I keep thinking she’s going to walk into the room and smile at me with her big beautiful eyes…She was the best….
Pam, thanks so much for stopping by here and for sharing your story with us. How meaningful it must have been for you to have been able to be with your mom when she passed; I know that meant so much to her to have a daughter near. Sounds like you were blessed with a wonderful, wonderful mom; I’m so sorry for your loss.
Hi ladies, my name is Nicole. Ive had many experiences with all types of cancer, both male and female, of all ages. My father has had colon cancer, his brother passed away from lung cancer (after never smoking a day in his life), i also lost a great grandfather who with loaded with cancer throughout. But most recently, i lost a dear dear friend to leukemia. For some reason, it always seems to be the BEST, nicest, most rediculously AWESOME people who are taken. Notbfair.
Nicole, welcome to Smithellaneous; thanks for dropping by! I certainly agree with you about cancer seeming to show up in the lives of so many special people we know and love. I’m so sorry for all the losses you’ve experienced to this disease.
Pam, thanks so much for stopping by Smithellaneous! How wonderful to hear that your mom has survived all these years after going through so much; I know you are so proud of her and so thankful for her. Thanks for sharing her story. (The necklace was chosen shortly before you got here but I hope you’ll stop by again!)
My wonderful mom; 84 years old … she was 1st diagnosed 19 years ago, just after my 2nd child was born. She has had 2 masectomies, chemo & radiation treatments. God has blessed us with her life!
Thank you for this opportunity to win …
My friend Lorraine died of breast cancer, and my mother died of colon cancer in 1959. My friends June and Kathy are breast cancer survivors. And I met Holly at her studio about six weeks ago, after which I learned that she is also a breast cancer survivor. All the best to you, Becky.
Donna, wow, 1959. That’s a lot of years to have lived without your mom; I can’t imagine how much you’ve missed her presence in your life. I’m sorry to hear you lost Lorraine so but so happy to know that June and Kathy have made it through that deep, deep valley. Thanks so much for stopping by; come by again!
It’s been a busy few days here, and I missed this post until now. And after reading your original diagnosis post again, I am, again, sitting here with tears rolling down my face. But there’s a difference this time; I now know “the rest of the story”. So THESE tears are different; not tears that came from fear and hurt, from knowing that your life was changed forever and NOT knowing just HOW changed it would be. The tears now are more “tears of joy”.. at knowing that you made it through that hard time, came out on the other side, and that you are thriving. I just sat through “Senior Chapel” at NCCS; it was incredible, and I wish everyone who has had to or WILL have to walk through hard times could have been there. The theme was “Living an Oreo life”.. built around Psalm 86. Two hard parts, with soft and beautiful praise in the middle. Two students and one teacher spoke, and one of the biggest things that I hope students took away was “Don’t waste the hard parts.. let God use you through your suffering to bring glory to Him.” The teacher showed a video that showed how oreos are made… so much mixing and kneading and adding things like dry ice (really!) to the batter, which is then pushed through a grate and into the molds. The molds which imprint the NAME on them. And that is what our suffering allows God to do to us.. to imprint HIS name on our hearts. He shines brightly through you, sweet one, and so my tears are happy. And in case you couldn’t guess, one of the main people in my life that has battled breast cancer is YOU. Along with a Scout friend, Tracy Brock, who is a survivor, and my cousin Martha, who is not. OK, I have to go and dry off my face now… love you muchly…
Pam, you always have something to say and you say it so poignantly. (Almost reminds me of a certain Sue G!)
Thank you for beautiful, encouraging words about my journey and also for sharing the Oreo illustration. That is good stuff! (Figuratively and literally.) You’re a blessing to me!
Breast cancer has touched me. My former pastor’s wife, a beautiful gregarious woman named Sharon Rose (after the rose of Sharon ) lost her battle in her early 40s. It destroyed her 16 year old daughter and devastated her husband and two other children. My beautiful cousin Dawn also died in her early forties leaving a bereft husband and three young kida, all who are now doing well. My very special Grandma Jetty (not a relative but a very special family friend ) survived the war in Holland but lost her life to breast cancer.
Over the past year we have lost three others special to us to other forms of cancer. My very close uncle Chris died in January of pancreatic cancer, my neighbour Betty died in July of brain cancer, and my daughter’s sweet birth Grandma Imelda (who half raised her her first 6years) died of liver cancer in September.
And a very special little 13 month old son of our friends, Nathaniel, suddenly went to be with Jesus 7 years ago. An autopsy showed he had neuroblastoma.
If my name randomly is selected to win will you please give it to a woman who has had or has breast cancer? I mean I love the necklace and would love to win it but i think it should go to someone who is courageously in the fight.
Jenna
Jenna, how sweet of you to want me to give the necklace to someone else; I will certainly honor that wish if your name is drawn. You have seen more than your share of cancer in the lives of those you love from the very youngest to the very oldest. Thank you for sharing their stories and honoring their lives and memories here today.
I have been on that breast cancer journey this year myself and thankfully I didn’t have to have chemo either. I had radiation that gave me second degree burns that were terrible but now I am cancer free!! I lost a dear friend, Donna, about three months ago. She had fought breast cancer twice and it metastasized to her liver. My Grandma also fought breast cancer years ago. God has blessed me thru this journey but it is a journey that I hope noone else has to go thru. Praying for a cure!! God is good!!
Kaye, so glad to know that you are done with your treatment and doing so well. I know you’re especially thankful to have made it through as you remember and mourn your sweet friend, Donna.
I know both angels on earth & angels in heaven. All true heroes who fought the fight no matter what the outcome. God bless them all,
Patricia, you’re right. They are ALL heroes–they fought and didn’t give up.
I have always been in awe of your strength and courage. I am humbled that you call me friend.
Susan, thanks so much for your sweet and encouraging words; they mean so much.
My mom was a breast cancer survivor before succumbing to lung cancer 5 years ago. After diagnosis my mom had a double mastectomy with reconstruction, chemo and radiation. Her grandmother and great-grandmother also had breast cancer. Her great-grandmother survived a mastectomy (didn’t know they even did them that long ago!) and her grandmother died of the disease. My sister-in-law’s sister is a survivor, as are many of my co-workers. It’s just way too common these days! It’s great to have heard and seen so many inspiring survival stories. 🙂
Gayle, I’m with you; I had no idea mastectomies were utilized way back in your great grandmother’s day. She was definitely a pioneer and I’m so glad she survived beyond her cancer. I’m so sorry to hear that your mom survived breast cancer only to be taken by lung cancer. it sounds like she walked a long hard, road and I know you are so proud of her.
My mother-in-law had breast cancer twice; mastectomy #1 in 1961, mastectomy #2 in 1991! She died in 2004, but not of cancer…she was 97 and her body simply gave out on her. My husband died in 1992 (melanoma), and that made all three of her children who had died. Her husband had died, her only sister died at the age of 48…breast cancer. And yet she would still often say that she had a good life. She was one of the most “glas half full” people I’ve ever known.
My other breast cancer heroine is a lady named Becky Smith from Manteo. She, too, anticipates rainbows while the rain is falling.
Jan, for your mom to have two completely separate incidences of breast cancer thirty years apart and yet not die from the disease is amazing! She sounds like a remarkable woman who went through some incredibly heartbreaking experiences but still kept her joy intact. I wish I could have met her. (And thank you for your kind words about me; I love the line about anticipating rainbows!)
Oopsie…I forgot to leave her name. She was Thelma Reuther.
My mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer while I was in my early 20’s. I remember thinking she was going to die. But, she decided to have a double mastectomy and thank the Lord, they got it all and she didn’t need any radiation or chemotherapy. It is almost 15 years later and she is still a survivor!
I must have been tired when I posted that. I also want to say that I am so thankful she is still here with us. I am so blessed to say that I have the best parents and I have no idea what I would do without them!
Krista, you are blessed, indeed! It’s a scary thing to be so young and to have your mom get sick; so thankful that she and your dad are still such an important, special part of your life.
I will never forget the day my mom told me she had breast cancer. I was a senior in high school. It was one of the worst days of my life but the worst day of my life was when she passed away 5 years later. It was because of my mom that I know work with children who have cancer. My friend Eve is a survivor and so is my friend Denise….both are doing well!
Sherri, So sad to know that cancer caused such grief in your life . . .and so happy to know that cancer helped you find your destiny of working with children who have cancer. We need a lot more people like you!
I remember the day my aunt had her surgery, November, 2009. She finished 33 radiation treatments at the end of January and in February of 2010 began taking one of 1825 pills (one a day for five years; the post-menopausal version of Tamoxifen—it’s called Arimidex). She hasn’t forgotten or missed one yet. We were lucky her cancer was caught early and she’s treated completely (we can’t wait until five years after she takes the last pill). We are very involved in a charity in our area run by a women, a survivor herself that is also the Dietetic Correspondent on NBC 5 news in our area.
I remember as Becky, our Becky, went through this journey. Though she and my aunt had the same cancer, her treatment plan was very different. But look at her now (and my aunt too–for privacy reasons we will call her B).
And then there’s K (again privacy). At the same time as B and Becky, K also (39 at the time) was diagnosed with the same cancer as B, and Becky. However, K had a third treatment. Three women, the same type of cancer (DCIS—ductal carcinoma in situ—if you had to have a cancer this is the one to have—at least that’s what all the ONC’s tell us—Becky weight in on this one, please) and three treatment plans. Crazy and wonderful all at the same time! But, everyone is doing well and not only survivors, but THRIVORS, in my opinion.
To help my aunt through the radiation process (the only one of the three mentioned here that had to go that route) I sent her something special every Friday to celebrate another week down. As her last present for treatment #33, a special gift. A hand painted canvas by another Blogger. It was amazing and it hangs in her home now!
Three special women, one disease, many different ways to treat it! Not all are that lucky. There are many charities that support breast cancer research treatments but personally I think before we can do things to treat the disease we have to identify the people who have the disease. What good are these treatments if people can’t afford the test to get the treatment? Check your local communities to see if they have 501c foundations that help women to get free mammograms so they can be identified and treated. Too many women are diagnosed too late to be treated…..if they only could afford a mammogram. I hope this made sense. I have 1,000,000 going on right now and trying to do them all at the same time while riding a unicycle while blindfolded. Happy Monday!
Jodi, thanks for sharing your tribute to these wonderful ladies–and including me, too! And good advice on checking in local communities to see if there is help available in paying for mammograms. Early detection is truly what it’s all about.
I lost my dear friend Charlene but am excited that Martha and Janet are survivors.
Kathy, so glad you have two survivors in your life but that I know that you will always miss your friend, Charlene. So wish she could have been on that survivor list.
My high school friend Cindy is a breast cancer survivor. I waer my pink cancer bracelet that she made for me everyday in her honor. My son’s girlfriend lost her Mom, Lori, to breast cancer in Feb 2011 at age 52. I wear the bracelet in her memory. This precious girlfriend will one day become my daughter-in-law =) and I so wish I could have met her wonderful Mother! I’m positive she would have loved my son and he would have cherished her as his mother-in-law!
Carolyn, I know that Lori’s memory will stay alive through her daughter in your family’s life but I do wish with you that you would have had a chance to meet her, and that your son would have had a chance to meet the woman who made his wife-to-be the wonderful young woman she is.
My dear friends wife, Deanna Gibson. And also 2 of my childhood friends, mothers. Both were like second mothers to me growing up…..Phyllis Spinks and Debbie Tyndall.
All 3 of these ladies fought a courageous fight and were finally awarded their healing in Heaven.
Heidi, how true is that those dear ladies got their healing in heaven. Mothers are special but I know those second mothers of yours will always hold a special place in your heart.
Myself – a 7-year survivor
My mother – an 18-year survivor
My grandmother – who didn’t survive
Stefanie, Woo-hoo for you and your mom! And sad and sweet thoughts over the loss of your grandma . . .
I am a breast cancer survivor! Two surgeries, chemo, radiation, and 6 years later I’m still going strong!
Dawn, wow, you’ve been through the whole nine yards, haven’t you? EXTRA happy with you that you are doing so well six years later!!
My Mom, Lana Emery, is a survivor of breast cancer. My friend, Jean Saito, was not as fortunate and after a courageous battle, died last December.
Lisa, happy for your mom AND for you that she survived the disease. And I have no doubt that your friend, Jean, will always hold a piece of your heart even though she is gone from this life.
My friend Penni Lennon succumbed to breast cancer at age 40 in 1999. October and fall were always her favorite time of year.
Melissa, wow, forty just seems so very, very young to die of breast cancer. Remembering Penni with you during this special, beautiful season of the year. (I know why she loved it; I love it too!)
My Mama, Barbara Hundley had breast cancer in 1996. She had a lumpectomy and had to go through chemo & radiation. She has been cancer free since then. Praise God!
Kristen, your mom has been cancer free a long time; what an encouraging report!
I have known three extrordinary women who have fought breast cancer and won, so far. My aunt, Linda Taylor, her daughter Cathy Taylor and my dear friend Deb Johnson. It is an awful disease. My fourth is my church pianist and my granddaughter’s piano teacher. Her name is Carolyn Sakowicz, who is once again waging a battle, this time with tumors on her spine and groin. She is one of the most Godly women I have ever been privileged to know. Please remember her in prayer and she once again prepares today to begin the battle again.
Gail, I’m glad you know some people who have beat this disease but am sorry to hear about Carolyn who is starting the whole battle all over again. I said a prayer for her tonight.
I would like to honor 2 women – Jeanoe who has overcome breast cancer, took checmo and has been cancer free now for six years and Jenny who is in the middle of her battle with cancer and has a chemo treatment every month. God is good!
Laura, thank you for honoring these two special women; it’s good to know Jeanoe has done so well and that Jenny is taking good steps forward.
My three women are Becky Smith, Anne Emery, and Kay White. They are all survivors but I did have a wonderful student, Kathryn Dunlow Huestess who lost her battle. God bless each one. My aunt, Erlene Davis, is a breast cancer survivor, also.
Ann, how sweet of you to include me in your line up of survivors; I’m honored and thankful to be there. So sorry to hear about your student, Kathryn.
Oh, I so remember that post of your diagnosis. The “waiting room” was packed with praying people. I am posting in honor of a few – some are survivors, some are angels, some had breast cancer, some had other types of cancer, some are adults, some are much younger: Becky, Sarah, ^Patti, ^Jessica, ^Jake, ^Loretta, Trish, Hillary, ^Christy, Pam, ^Paul, ^Bill and ^Sue. All have shown more courage and grace than I think I would ever have to face the beast of cancer. I cherish them all and what I have learned. I celebrate the ones that have beaten back the beast and are healthy and I miss dearly the ones who found healing with God. Thank you, Becky
Mary, what a succinct and perfect way to express it, “I celebrate the ones who who have been beaten back the beast and are healthy and I miss dearly the ones who found healing with God.”
Thanks for sharing you your memories and for summing up how we all feel so well.
A friend from high school, Amy Countiss, was diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer in February of 2010. After numerous surgeries and rounds and rounds of chemo and radiation, she is now cancer free. She gives all glory to God that she was able to conquer this disease and is now enjoying life with her husband and three children. She deserves this necklace!
Elizabeth, I know that Amy is so thankful to be on the other side of all that treatment–that’s a lot to go through! I’m so happy that her husband and three kids still have her in their lives.
I have not known many personaly that have had breat cancer which is a true blessing, one I know is my dear sister in law and she has had to have cancerous lumps removed twice, she has not gone thru all that you did, had some radiation but no reconstrucaton she is in her late 70s.
Sharon, it’s wonderful to hear of a cancer survivor in her late 70’s! Thanks for sharing!