Bald Chicks Rule
by Mary Beth Hall
My new counseling job at the high school started in late July, just a few months after my breast cancer diagnosis. I could hardly keep my head up because of the radiation treatments, and I hadn’t even started working yet. I didn’t know how I was going to start a new job in this shape.
Men Don’t Have Breasts!
by Eric Dunlap
A year before my cancer diagnosis, after working in the yard, I noticed a spot of blood on my shirt. Thinking that I had scratched myself, I dismissed the occurrence. Later that day, another spot appeared. After looking at my chest, I determined that the blood came from the nipple, so I scheduled a doctor’s appointment.
A New Perspective
by Florence Ferreira
Three years ago, a doctor told me that I had three to six months to live. My breast cancer had spread extensively to my bones, my lungs, and my liver. Today, I am in stable condition. I was very upset at this doctor’s insensitivity for a while. How dare anyone tell me when I’m going to die? But looking back, his gloomy prognosis paradoxically gave me a new life-giving perspective.
Accept and Fight
by Anne Beckman
For six and a half years, a monster named cancer has been chewing on my body. It began with breast cancer. After a year’s treatment, the beast went into remission. Three years later, pre-cancerous cells demanded a hysterectomy. Two years later, cancer reappeared on my skull and spine.
Whatever the Emotion, It’s Okay
by Nancy Rea
What is it about women that makes us believe, not just presume but truly believe, that we have to be strong? Why must we be everything to everyone, even to the detriment of our own selves?
My Cancer Journey
by Linda Townsend
May 2005 was when I first heard those life-changing words, “You have cancer.” I felt as if I was receiving a death sentence. My mother had been diagnosed with cancer at age 54 and was given a 90 percent chance of recovery. But she lost her battle just three years later.
From O. R. to P. R.
How Cancer Taught Me to Pursue My Dreams
by Fran Di Giacomo
I needed to write a book, and I had every opportunity an author would need to fail. As a professional artist and career cancer patient I’d been on chemotherapy for five years. I didn’t have a computer, fax machine, cell phone, or college degree. I just knew how to juggle multiple tumors, surgeries, chemotherapy sessions, art galleries, portrait commissions, and armies of medical staff, and how to enjoy life.
I Once Spent Time on the Mountaintop
by Harriet Cox
When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I felt a mental numbness. Because I didn’t hurt, it was hard to believe that I had a life-threatening disease. As time wore on and treatment was scheduled, I began to believe it, and the numbness was replaced with a fear and despondency so strong that I struggled through each day.