I can remember when my Mom was diagnosed at the age of 70 with breast cancer in her left breast. It was so scary to think she was going in for a mastectomy. After all, it was my MOM! I was 38 at the time and had a newborn son, whom she could not hold for several months. We both hated that. When my oldest sister was diagnosed at the age of 45 with breast cancer in her left breast, I remember feeling panicked again. Not only for her health and the rehab she was about to endure, but because that meant we had a gene – or some hereditary trait in our family which meant my middle sister Stephanie and I could get it too. 

We all met with a gene counselor. She was helpful in the way she mapped our risks and possibilities and set the remaining two of us on a course for high-risk observation for the unforeseeable future. We would have our regular mammogram, followed by a gynecologist appointment three months later. Next would be an MRI, and then a visit with our breast cancer doctor three months after that. I did this for 10 to 12 years religiously. Every time I went in for a scan, I prayed, I panicked, and I waited. Every visit, I wondered if my time was up. Stephanie did the same. 

My time did not come until January 2021. I went in for my MRI. For whatever reason, that visit I felt calm. I relaxed and meditated as I laid on my stomach with both boobs swinging through two holes while blue dye was injected in my arm to reveal any abnormalities. Nothing was said when I left, other than we’ll call you if we see anything. I hated that call. It was the typical, “Well, the radiologist saw a little something, probably nothing to worry about but she’d like you to come back in for a core biopsy.” 

All I could think was, “What’s a core biopsy?” It was during Covid, so Geoff stayed in the car while I went back. Without getting too graphic – think power drill, boobs again swinging through holes and tugging — It was awful. Then the conversation was, “It’s probably nothing. So small that this biopsy would get it, if it is cancer. Nothing to worry about. We’ll call you if we see anything.”

I had a photoshoot the morning of the call. I was writing the blog, “Three Way Dressing,” and I wore a green dress. I haven’t worn that green dress since. Bad karma. Which is too bad because I really liked that green dress. I went out to the patio and began pacing as the nurse told me it was DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ) in my left breast, the size of a pencil eraser head. My middle daughter watched me pace and knew something was up. I lied and went to my bedroom and talked to Geoff who was supportive but also a little scared. All I could think about was, how am I going to spin this to my kids so they won’t be worried and scared? Thankfully the first thing I read on the internet was that it was 100% curable. That was all I could say. “I have breast cancer but it’s 100% curable. All will be fine.” Privately, I fell apart, not only because I had IT but because now, three out of four women in my family have been diagnosed with breast cancer in our left breast, and I have two daughters who could get it. 

Soon after getting the lumpectomy and radiation, I reached out to Carolina Breast Friends. I knew I had to give back and find a way to fight this terrible disease. Survivors and the recently diagnosed needed support. They needed to know about the resources available to them. Most importantly, they needed to see those of us who made it to the other side and are stronger because of it. 

My oldest sister and I went back in for more genetic testing after I was diagnosed. We were tested for 84 different genetic markers or variants associated with cancer, 11 of which are associated with breast cancer specifically.

We both had 0. Not a single known cancer gene. So we continue to ask, “How is that possible? They simply haven’t identified our type yet.” There is still so much we don’t know about breast cancer, and I want to change that before my daughters have to begin the worry journey. 

So today, I am asking you to join me. I am not someone who likes to ask for money. But, I know the power of numbers, not only financially but in people. Carolina Breast Friends asked me to help raise funds for the amazing programs and support they offer our community. I gladly want to help, and I hope you’ll consider it too. 

Oh By the Way, you can scan the QR code below or go to my fundraising page to show your support and help in this fight. Thank you!