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by Cris Robins
Breast cancer — few words can strike terror faster in a woman's heart. So why is detection and treatment swept into the closet? Because it is so frightening and so deeply personal.
Right or wrong, most women believe that who they are physically is who they are, period. From our body types and shape to the color of our hair and eyes, physical appearances are very important to women.
So it would only stand to reason that women would do everything they could, to protect themselves, right? Not necessarily. Women are afraid. Breast self-exams are a double-edged sword. If they do self-exams and find something, they are afraid it will be cancer. If they do self-exams and find nothing, they are afraid they are doing it wrong. And how many women want to be caught doing a self-exam by a husband who just happens to walk into the bathroom? It's humiliating!
One way of taking the fear out of breast self-exams is this — rather than “looking” for cancer, perform the self exam as a way of celebrating your femininity and appreciating your body.
I've only known two women in my life who have had breast cancer — my colleague, Glenda Locke, and my brother's wife, Rosa Baker. They are two very different women who both took the journey through breast cancer hell. Although both women had husbands and
children and neither had any of the classic risk factors, the similarities stop there. They stood on opposite sides of the breast cancer fence.
Whereas Glenda refused to do self-exams or obtain any information on the subject, Rosa did exams religiously and kept up with the changes. Glenda's lump, the size of a quarter, was found by her physician; Rosa's lump, the size of a pea, was found during a self-exam.
Glenda won her battle. It was not easy going through the surgeries to remove and reconstruct her breast. There were many painful nights with stitches, scars and bruises. And not all scars are physical — some are mental scars. Even though it has been several years, she is hard put to look you in the eye and say the C-word. And, above all, she believes that God will take care of her.
Rosa was not as lucky. Her pea-size tumor grew to the size of a baseball within six weeks. The cancer struck her lymph nodes, kidney, liver and other vital organs. She fought bravely, courageously — through a double mastectomy, chemotherapy and experimental drug treatments. Some of her medications costs were $15,000 a month and not covered by insurance companies.
And she cried. As she was being tortured to prolong her life, she gained the courage to fight one battle after another. She never gave up hope that the NEXT treatment would save her life, regardless of the risks. Then the hospice volunteers came — as they only do for patients with less than six months to live.
Hospice was, in a strange way, a lifesaver for her family. Hospice volunteers helped them deal with Rosa's upcoming death, relieved some of the strain of caring for a terminally ill mother and showed my brother's family that, even in death, there is peace. Rosa gained peace at home with her family, as she had wanted. Her battle ended on July 27, 1995.
Breast cancer is a concern of so many women today. The first line of defense is self-examination. The second is getting information about our options — be informed. And most importantly, rather than letting fear run your life, appreciate your body, be grateful for your life and the good health you have today, and appreciate and celebrate your loving relationships, especially the one with yourself.
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