One Request

  Since I have opened up about my prophylactic bilateral double mastectomy, I have noticed a trend that I had hoped to stay far away from. When people look at me, and talk to me, I see that they are genuinely concerned. While being concerned for me is wonderful, and I am glad that people truly care about me, I do not want anyone to feel bad for me. Do not pity me. Do not feel sadness for me. The only reason that I'll allow pity is that I lost my mother/best friend as well as my grandmother...both deaths were extremely hard on me. I still picture them, laying in their beds after passing...it's an image that will NEVER go away. The only sadness I feel is from the loss of the two most important women in my life. It's a sadness that can never be described. It's a physical pain I feel in my heart when I think about it.

  I do not want pity. Pity the women who could have been given this option, but it was too late. Feel bad for the women that lose their fight to this horrible disease on a daily basis. Women don't get to watch their own children grow up, some never get married, some will never have children...THAT is sad. Death is sad. Losing someone whom was very dear to you is sad. Children growing up without a mother is sad.

  There is nothing to feel bad about when it comes to my PBM. Celebrate it and feel joy for me. I am being given a fighting chance at living a long life! My children (hopefully) will never have to see what breast cancer (or any cancer) does. My children will not have to watch me slowly pass away. My children will not fear that I won't make it to their graduations, weddings, bringing my grandchildren into the world. If something ever happens to me, it won't be because of breast cancer. I am getting a chance at living a long, healthy life. There is nothing to pity about that.

  Though this journey will be uncomfortable, and sometimes painful...in the long run, it will be worth it. The physical pain, for me, is nothing compared to the emotional pain my children would endure if I had to leave them too soon. So, I beg you, when you look at me, don't frown...smile. Smile and know that I get to beat this thing before it beats me! Know that I am happy (elated actually), I am at peace with my decision, and I am honestly (in a twisted way) blessed.

A last video...

  I was really protective over this video shortly after my Mom passed away. I felt it was private, and didn't really want to share it with anyone. This is raw for me. I can't watch it without crying. I don't think I'll ever be able to watch it with dry eyes. This was exactly a week before she passed away. You can tell, at times, that she would get slightly confused. At this point the liver was releasing toxins in her body and she was really getting ready to go. I'll cherish this video forever, because it is the one thing that Brody will have to remember her by. Though I wish I had taken a lot of videos before she really got sick. I hate that when I show him this video, he won't see her as I saw her. He'll only get to see and  hear her when she wasn't really "her". In the few months before she passed away, the medicine made her look like someone else, though her smile was always the same, and the light in her eyes never faded. To me, though, she was beautiful...every second.

  This is the last video I get. Like an idiot, I deleted all of my voicemails before she passed away. I wish I had kept them. I wish I would have saved every last one, just so I could her her ramble on for minutes (like she always did). It drives people crazy that I don't listen to voicemails anymore. I just can't. I don't listen to them, and I never delete any from my friends and family. I have at least thirty right now...and hopefully at one point, I'll weed through them. You just never know when you'll want to hear someones voice again. I am quirky, that is for sure...maybe even a little "messed up". I also hate to say "goodbye". It drives me nuts when people say goodbye. I hate goodbye. "See you later", "Talk to you later", "goodnight", etc...those are all fine...but not goodbye. I HATE goodbye.

  I can only hope that my children don't have to have these quirks. That they don't  have to know what this kind of pain feels like...at least until I am old (like nursing home, depends wearing, dentures donning old). I wish my Mom was given the options that I have been given. I could have her next to me right now, had we all had a better understanding of the genetics side of breast cancer, before she was ever diagnosed. If only we could turn back time. Thankfully, my children might never have to say "if only" when it comes to this nasty disease.

There Is Where it Gets Real, the Beginning of the End

  Many people have brought up the word "strength" lately. I don't often view myself as "strong", I am just "surviving". Strength isn't a word I would even have on a "top five" personality trait list for myself. Strength is one of the top words that could be used to describe my mother though, without a doubt. Even in the last few days of her life, she managed to smile. I took this photo, just a day or so before she passed away. Even in my mothers last few days, she never lost who she was. She was a mother, a grandmother, a sister, a friend. Her heart was pure and genuine.

  It's hard for me to share details of her death. Just thinking about it makes me get that really uncomfortable lump in my throat (or all out break down...although, I try to not allow myself to go there completely, because I am afraid I'll never stop), if you are human, you know exactly what I am talking about.

  In the few days of mayhem preparing for Brody's baptism, I KNEW something was really wrong with my Mom. Her eyes and skin started turning yellow and she was exhausted and disoriented. She always tried to put on a front, like she was feeling just fine. On the day of Brody's baptism, she was right there..at the church and tried to make it to most of the party. I could just see it in her eyes, she wasn't feeling well at all. I could ALWAYS see it in her eyes, just like I could with my grandmother.

  After family left, and things had returned to normal, she finally let me take her to the doctor. I remember taking her that day...like it was just yesterday. She was so out of it. The doctors asked me if maybe she had taken double of her medicine. It was kind of interesting...now that I know what was happening, they KNEW what was wrong with her...anyone with a medical background would know. Her liver was shutting down. They sent us immediately to a doctor that specializes in issues with the liver. He told me there was nothing he could do, at best she had two weeks.

What?!?! Two weeks?! How is that possible? How did this happen? Can't I give her part of my liver?! I had so many questions. I wasn't ready to accept this. She fought through everything else, why couldn't we fight this?

 The chemo had caused an allergic reaction, and ultimately poisoned her liver...it was shutting down. They sent us home with a referral for hospice, to start immediately that evening. When the hospice lady showed up, my Mom finally stared "waking up" a bit. As we were signing papers, she looked at me and asked if this was it. I had to tell my own mother that she wasn't going to live much longer. I had to tell my mother, a fighter, a woman with courage and strength that she was dying and there was nothing more she could do to fight.

  This was the beginning of the end. These were some of the last days I would ever have with my Mom, my best friend, my "person".

Saving Katie, A Story of Bravery and Prevention - by KellyLynne Photography

Surgical Oncology Appointment!

  Finally got home from our trip to UNC. They decided not to do any imaging today. Right now it's not needed as I am still nursing (for two more days). We met with a nurse practitioner and the surgical oncologist at 1 pm. It's exactly what I hoped for, they were compassionate and concise. Because I am nursing Em, we have to wait about four months to let my breast tissue get back to normal.  My next appointment is on March 27th for a mammogram, a pre-op appointment with the surgical oncology NP, and the plastic surgeon. At that point, we will be scheduling surgery...around 30 days out. So, it looks like I will be having surgery around the end of April, beginning of May. Honestly, this is EXACTLY what I wanted. I will be healthy and 100% able for Brody's third birthday on April 5th! Now, it is time to get my butt back into shape and lose the ten pounds I have gained since Josh has been back! By the time I get back to my ideal weight, get everything organized for the kids (since I won't be able to be super mom while recovering), and get myself situated it will be time for surgery!

  I am impressed with the kindness these amazing doctors show. Honestly, they are some of the best in the world, and they are still so sweet. It's comforting when a doctor sits next to you and actually isn't afraid to put their hand on you to reassure you that everything will be great. My doctor does a PM at least once a week...so I know he has experience. The only thing I had weighed as an option was having a nipple sparing mastectomy, but because of my family history, the doctor and nurse practitioner strongly advised against it. So, looks like I will have "Barbie" boobs for a little while. It's cool though...what little girl didn't want boobs like Barbie when they were younger? Maybe I'll have some fun with my new nipples?! Maybe star shaped? Hearts? This could be interesting! Okay, most likely, I'll have some created so it looks "natural"...but you never know!

  Thank you all again for all of your support. I literally cannot put into words how thankful I am that so many people are behind me in this. The more we get the word out, the more people we can possibly save. Right now PM's are a bit "taboo" honestly...I hate that. I want everyone to know that they have this choice! "Foobs" are much better than boobs, if it means you may save your life! Literally, SAVE THE WOMAN!

KellyLynne Photography's Military Families : SAVING KATIE one woman's descision to undergo a pr...

KellyLynne Photography's Military Families : SAVING KATIE one woman's descision to undergo a pr...: SAVING KATIE one woman's descision to undergo a prophylactic mastectomy. Katie and her husband are stationed here in NC at Camp Lejeune. ...

A Documentary! Really? Me?!

  I was at a loss for words when Kelly contacted me, asking if I would be interested in doing a documentary. Literally, speechless. I couldn't believe that some actually even thought this was important enough/ or I was even interesting enough to do a documentary on. I am all for having this journey documented..like I have said before, even if I can help just one person...then I did what I wanted to do by being so open.

  I found Kelly months ago while Josh was deployed and was absolutely obsessed with her photography. It's hard to find a good photographer where I am at. There are so many women that get a camera and automatically call themselves a "photographer" around here. I can honesty take better pictures with my iPhone than some of the pictures I have seen promoted. Kelly has work that is stunning and super cool! It's not only her work that is amazing though...she is so down to earth. When she asked if I would be interested, it was a no brainer. I knew she was probably the only person I would be comfortable enough having follow me so closely (and intimately, really) during all of this. In just the short time that I met her for Josh's homecoming, she makes you have fun...she lightens up an atmosphere for sure.

  She has already shared ideas with me in regards to following and documenting this..and I cannot wait to see the magic she makes out of it. Maybe her photography alone can influence someone to make this lifesaving choice (someone like me, with the same bunk genetics).

  If you want to check out some of her stuff, her website is: http://www.kellylynnephotography.com/

EFMP Approved!

  We found out that I have been accepted/approved for EFMP! I thank God that there are people who legitimately want to help us in this situation. The more I talk to the people at the EFMP offices (HQ and here at Camp Lejeune) the more I feel at ease. The only thing that has been causing any anxiety is this PCS to Hawaii and the uncertainty that comes with it in terms of this PM. Fortunately Josh's command has also been incredible (no surprise there though...they are always amazing to family) and is behind us 100% and willing to help Josh out any way they possibly can.

 The entire "new orders" thing is still a major waiting game though, and it still all depends on one man right now. I pray everyday that he finds it in his heart to help finagle something that will allow us to remain at Camp Lejeune. I still freak out at the idea of the slight possibility that we really will have to go to Camp Smith. The difference in care between here and Hawaii is my most terrifying concern. So, for now, I need to figure out how to put my mind at ease and just let it work out the way in needs to work out. It's so hard though, obviously...since I sound like a broken record on these last few posts!

Thursday! I cannot wait!

Prophylactic Mastectomy, Insights from Women Who Chose to Reduce Their Risk

 
   I finally tapped into my new book this morning! I'm already over 100 pages in, and that's in between diapers, meals, playing trains, organizing a closet, and taking a twenty minute nap. It was money well spent (actually, part of a gift card) and I plan to reread it again. I am amazed at just how much my thoughts are exactly like so many women this author has interviewed. It's nice to know I am not alone, that others actually "get it" and that I am not a "weirdo" for questioning certain things. Parts of the book make me feel a little uneasy about an upcoming surgery, but I think those are all normal pre-surgery doubts. What I do know, is that when the author stated that there is an 81-94% reduced chance of dying from breast cancer after having a PM, it only secured my decision. Though they say the surgery is anywhere from 3-16 hours long, I am ready.

  My only worry now is what comes after the surgery. How long will it be before I can hold my babies, before I can hug my husband, before I can curl my own hair, before I can go to spin class at the gym? There are so many unanswered questions that I have...I cannot wait until Thursday.

Our Life On Hold

  "Hurry up and wait"...something you learn day one as a Marine spouse. My EFMP package was accepted, but Hawaii is still on our radar. There is a high risk breast clinic in Honolulu, but it's not where I want to be. I feel more comfortable staying with UNC Chapel Hill. Once I see the surgeon on Thursday, we'll have him fill out more paperwork to possibly insist that I continue my care with him...it's our only saving grace at continuing my care with them. In a way, I feel like a toddler having a tantrum, but I really feel strongly about staying at Chapel Hill. There are so many reasons why it's crucial for me to stay in NC (in my opinion). The surgeons are some of the best in the country, I have my family and friends close by, and the thought of moving everything we own to Hawaii right after a prophylactic mastectomy scares me. It can be done, but it makes me uneasy. I'll know so much more on Thursday. All of our planning seems like it is on hold until we talk to this surgeon. Here's to hoping we get some sort of answers.

January 17th!

  I finally got the kinks worked out! January 17th is the day I finally get to meet the surgical oncologist! I cannot wait. Though I am a bit anxious, I am excited. I can't wait to ask the zillion and one questions that I have! Lord grant this doctor patience, he may need it! Fortunately I am seeing one of the best...he is the director of the surgical oncology unit at UNC's high risk breast clinic. How awesome is that? I have done some research and he is highly recommended, even earning the "Patients Choice" award for 2012.

 They'll do a mammogram first (though, they may have to change and do an ultrasound since I am still nursing Em and will be until around the 20th) and then I'll meet with the nurse practitioner and the doctor. From what the receptionist said, I'll meet with the plastic surgeon about a week or so later. Then it's a pre-op appointment, and surgery. Let's just hope it goes as easy as she made it sound.The countdown is on. I am ready.

Only 5%

   There it is...in writing, straight from the geneticist I saw at UNC. Things always seem to look a lot worse when it's in writing. What's with that?! What really got me was the 50%. We already discussed everything else, but they had initially told me 45%. I guess 5% really shouldn't matter, but it did make me feel a bit nauseated, I can't deny that. As time goes on, research keeps improving and I can only hope by the time my babies grow up, there will be a cure for this. I hate that there may be something in my genes that will cause my babies to get breast cancer. I know my Mom would equally hate that I am going through all of this, though she would be my number one supporter in this decision.

   It all really makes me miss her. I need her hugs and her smile. I have the best support, but nothing is like having your Mom there to make things better. I know she is with me though...she always finds a way to let me know she is around. Josh brought in a box from the garage for me to go through tonight, and the first thing I pulled out was a card from her, from Brody's baby shower. I know she watches over me. She told me she would, and I told her I would think of her everyday (I haven't gone a day without having her pop up in my mind).

  One of the on call nurses at my hospital (everything is okay, just had a fever question about Brody and the dosage of medicine to give him) and I were discussing this, and she said "do you feel like maybe you are honoring your mother by having this surgery?". In a way, maybe I do. I never thought of it that way though, but I do know that I am doing what she would have wanted me to do. I do know she would never want me to go through what she went through. It's easy for me to say I know this, because as a mother, I finally understand what a mothers love really is. It's an actual physical pain when your child gets hurt. It's wishing only the best in life for your children. It's hurting when they have their feelings hurt. A mothers love is giving everything you have to your babies and never feeling a "need" for anything more...just making them happy. A mothers love is everything good. I know she only wanted me to be happy and free of physical or emotional pain. I know she would be here for me if she could. She tried. She fought harder than anything to be here for me. Now it is my turn to fight. Though I don't have cancer (yet...maybe ever), I get to fight now...and if it honors her, then that is an added bonus.

I Am Blessed!

  I cannot express enough words of gratitude for those that have been showing me support. Though this journey is just beginning, I have had some amazing people contact me just to let me know that they think what I am doing is an inspiration. Really, it's quite the opposite. I am not the inspirational one, it is everyone else around me. It's the people that support me without judgement that I find to be the inspiration. Some have told me that they believe I am strong. My strength comes from others...from my family and friends. Thank you so much for those who are behind me. Thank you for the messages, the comments on here (they are greatly appreciated on here, as it's nice to know who is following this blog), the comments on facebook, the calls, texts, and hugs! I appreciate every single on of  you! This choice gets easier everyday with the support group I have!

Need To Get This Off My Chest

  Okay...okay...maybe some distasteful humor for a title on this post, but it's fitting! I have something that I feel like needs to be said. Though people may not say anything outright, it is very transparent when they disagree with my prophylactic mastectomy choice. There is a definite tone change when I tell people I am most likely BRCA negative. I guess some assume since I do not have the BRCA mutation, that I am fine...or I should not worry.

  Not trying to be doom and gloom, because it's not really how I feel about my choice, but just because I am not BRCA positive, doesn't mean I am not at risk. To me, I am even more uncomfortable not knowing what is in my family history that causes this. I could possibly have something in my body that is (at this point) undetectable, until I get cancer (as the geneticist put it). According to my family history, there is something going on, especially since my own mother (closest relative) had breast cancer.

  I am not being a hypochondriac, I am not being drastic, I am not seeking attention. I am purely choosing to remove my breasts. The only reason I have decided to open up about this is because there are so many women that are in the same exact position as I am, and if I could just possibly save one persons life, then I have done what I intended. I strongly encourage genetic testing. It is so scary at first, but it could save your life. Whether you are BRCA negative or positive, whether you have a family history of any cancer or disease, please consider having it done. It can't really hurt, can it?

  Anyway, if you can't handle my reasons for my choice, or you don't agree with it...just think of it as me having implants. It's a lot more socially acceptable for women to have implants these days...if it helps YOU get through this, then just think of it as me getting a new perky pair.

As My Emmanemma's First Birthday Approaches...

  With Emmaleen's first birthday right around the corner, my breastfeeding is coming to an end. Before having kids, I knew I wanted to nurse them for the health benefits. To be honest, I never really liked breast feeding, but I always held myself to goals (at first,when it's the most uncomfortable, I celebrated getting through the week, then months, and finally my main goal of a year). Now that Em's birthday is right around the corner, I am feeling a little bit of sadness. It's normal to feel slight sadness as people stop nursing their babies...but this time it's different. This time, I won't be be able to nurse another baby, this time it's final. Obviously it's more important for me to live than it is for me to nurse another baby, but inside it's still painful. Not that Josh and I are planning to have another baby (unless we adopt), but in the back of my mind, I wonder "what if". This time, it's my last time. I know I only have a short amount of time left to nurse her and share this special bond. I am not going to be the crazy "granola" lady that tells you nursing is the "only way", nor do I want to push my beliefs on anyone, but, I do feel like there is a special bond that comes from nursing your child. At least I was fortunate enough to be able to nurse my babies...a lot of people never get the chance.

Semper Gumby!

  Although I am really grateful for my husbands career in the Corps, it can sometimes throw a wrench into plans. I thought by now I would know not to make plans when it comes to future planning, but apparently I needed to be reminded how life as a military wife really works. Josh got orders to Hawaii, in April. My referral is for the high risk breast oncology unit at UNC Chapel Hill. Talk about opposite ends of the country. At this point, I am praying to the Marine Corps Gods that his orders could maybe, possibly, hopefully be changed or maybe delayed so that I can continue being a patient at UNC. I am submitting a EFMP (Exceptional Family Member Program) package tomorrow in hopes that maybe they can help us out. Honestly, I am not holding my breath, but I am praying. I really feel goofy putting in for EFMP, because, other than my family history, I am healthy. There are people that legitimately need the Marine Corps assistance for their family members medical problems...am I one of those people? I am not sure this package will get approved...I still am not sure I feel right about doing this in the first place. I usually don't like to ask anyone for help..but right now, I am giving in and asking. I have done research and UNC seems like the right fit for me, I really don't feel comfortable putting it off and finding a new place. My feelings in this situation don't really matter much though, so I am just going to let it work out the way it needs to work out. If we go to Hawaii, I'll find another surgeon at one point. Semper Gumby!

Prophylactic Mastectomy....

  The words that seem so offensive to others...prophylactic mastectomy. On the few occasions that I have brought this up to others, it's almost like I am saying I plan on tattooing my forehead. It amazes me how unsupportive people can be. I have made my choice. This isn't a choice that I have made overnight. I have thought about having a prophylactic double mastectomy done for years. After meeting with the geneticist and running it past him, he was also in agreement that this was a good decision. I cannot let what others think about this effect my choice. It is my body...my life. I choose to be proactive. Though choosing to remove something that is so much a part of me is a hard decision, I have decided that it's what is best for me, and for my children.

   I will do everything in my power, as a mother, to stay alive and healthy for my children. I never want them to feel what I have felt while watching my own mother slowly pass away from this horrible disease. Though nothing says I will ever have breast cancer for certain, I am unwilling to wait and see what happens. I am unwilling to let something control me. Ninety percent of women that have a prophylactic double mastectomy will not get breast cancer. My boobs are not as important as I am. My boobs are not as important as my children are. They have served their purpose and have successfully nursed my two beautiful babies. I do not need them...to me, they are a ticking time bomb. I choose my family, I choose me. I appreciate input that has been given to me, but I have made my decision.

  If it were you, and each family member was diagnosed before the previous, how long would you wait? Would you wait? It's easy to give others advice, but it will never be easy to be in their shoes. Until you walk a day in my shoes...until you look into my mind, until you feel the pain I have in my heart over losing my mother, you may not understand my decision. I don't ask for people to always agree with me, but I do ask, if you love me, support me.

  The people that are important already have my back. My own husband, the man that has to look at me, the man who I always want to look good for...he is my number one supporter. I am so fortunate to have such an amazing man in my life. He really gets it. He needs me more than we both need my boobs. Realistically, he married me knowing my family history..he knew that there was a chance that I could end up with breast cancer, yet he stayed. He has always stayed. I thank God everyday that he is strong enough...even when I feel like I am not strong enough, he carries me. My own husband loves me enough to see past scars and know that there is a possibility that my chest may never look the same again. I choose to be proactive for him, just as much as for anyone else. I know he would be here for me if I ever ended up with breast cancer, but it's not something I ever want him to see me go through. I have a choice...I choose my family..I choose me. I could say it over and over again. I choose my health over my boobs.

Genetic Testing

  I finally had the "guts" to see a geneticist. After trying to get the referral and compile all of the information I had about my family history, I went to UNC for an appointment. There were many questions that I had going into this appointment, though I already knew in the back of my mind what would ultimately be said. My Mother was BRCA1 and BRCA2 negative, so part of my mind held out hope that maybe the geneticist would just tell me it was a coincidence...that my family just had some bad luck. They won't test me for the BRCA genes, since my mother was negative...there really isn't a point. 

  The doctor took all of my information and family history and drew up a family tree. I have never done it that way before...I just said it out loud. It's amazing what writing it down does, in a bad way. It was so black and white, so nerve wrecking, so real. Though I may not be BRCA positive, the doctor said there was no doubt in his mind that there is some sort of genetic mutation in my family. Unfortunately, while my Mother did the BRCA testing, she didn't proceed with any further testing (it was about $700 out of pocket) and the doctors convinced her that was as far as it went. At this point, until there is more research, or I develop breast cancer myself, they would be unable to tell me what genetic mutation is causing my families higher risk with breast cancer. At this point, there is a 45% chance that I could get breast cancer, myself. Though 45% is better than 50% and better than anything above 50%...it's still 45% chance. I could go on living my life with this as a possibility and remain active in self checks, and possibly never get breast cancer. I could also remain active and wait for it to happen, and catch it early. Like I have said in my initial post, I am twenty seven, my mother was diagnosed at forty three...that means they won't start checking me (I can do my own checks, and have since I was 17) until I am thirty three years old. 

   Realistically, I could get in my car tomorrow, and get in a car accident. Maybe my chances of something else happening could be more than my chances of being diagnosed with breast cancer. Obviously, I wouldn't chose to get in a car accident...or get breast cancer. My choice is to stay alive. Be proactive. My choice is to control my body before it can control me. My choice is life. If I can do anything in my power to stay alive, I will do it. I will fight...for my children, for my husband, for my family...for me. 

  At one point, I will be able to open up about details. I'll be able to share more of the stories I have of my Mother. I wish the world could have known her. Her smile was radiant. She loved with her entire heart. I could easily write a novel about the kind of person she was. Though I am biased, she is the best person I have ever known. She was kind, gentile, fun, easy going, compassionate, warm, friendly, intelligent, strong, noble, heroic, dedicated, thoughtful....I could go on for hours. The world was a better place with my Mother in it. They often say that God takes the good ones, because he needs more angels in heaven. To be honest, I think God put my Mother in the world because she was an angel. People were better because of her. I was better because of her. She was lent to me by God, for a short time. She was an angel on earth. Passing away only brought her home. Though I wish she was still alive, and with me everyday, I know she is still around. She is always in my heart and in my mind. There will never be a day that goes by that I don't think of her. I am who I am because of her. Everything I am, I owe to her.

My Reason

  The decision to start this blog has been difficult. I have gone back and forth with emotions on whether I should share something so personal, with anyone who wants to read my story. I am only beginning this journey, but my background is what makes this decision an easy one. I should start with telling everyone why I am willing to undergo such an extreme decision. I lost my mother when I was twenty five years old. She passed away in 2010, only a few months after I has my son Broderick (whom we named after my mother). At twenty seven, the loss of my mother is still the most painful thing I have ever gone through, and continue to struggle with on a daily basis. People say missing someone gets easier. It doesn't. Missing my mother will never get easier, its just the time that passes, that makes life go on. I have to keep going on, because I don't have a choice. I, myself, have two beautiful babies that I need to live for. My children are my reason for fighting. I never, ever want my babies to feel the pain that I have felt watching my Mother fight breast cancer and I never want to feel the pain she must have felt when she had to say goodbye to me.

  I remember it like it was yesterday. June 15th 2002. My mother was scheduled for a lumpectomy. I sat in the waiting room with my aunt, while my mom was in surgery. The doctor (one of the best, a gentile man with a heart of gold) came into the family waiting room and sat down with us at a small round table, sitting next to me and keeping eye contact throughout his talk with me. He told me what no daughter ever wants to hear....he said that he would have to wait for the biopsy results to come back, but he could tell from her tumor that she absolutely had breast cancer. Though many people won't understand this, he asked me to not tell my Mom until the official results were back and he could tell her more about the tumor. It was the hardest secret I have ever had to keep, but it gave me a little time to wrap my head around what was happening. June 17th, my seventeen birthday was the day we went into his office for the results from the lab. She, without any doubt, had breast cancer. From that moment, our lives had changed. Ultimately, after the mastectomy, we found out that she had stage four breast cancer, due to the size of the tumor.

  I went through the rest of high school, even closer to her...which many never understood. My Mom was my best friend. She was my world. I idolized her. Even more so, during her fight, I respected her and understood her. Though we were close before her illness, we shared a new bond after her diagnosis. She fought, she fought for me. Every step of the way, when things were hard, and she could have given up, she fought. She was my world...she knew it. As she fought, I remained her rock (as much as I could). I rarely wanted to leave her side. Throughout chemo, radiation, multiple surgeries, hair loss, uncontrollable vomiting, highs, lows, and everything in between, she was my hero. She still is my hero. After she underwent all of the treatment for her breast cancer, the chemo had caused a lot of problems, so she was never really back to healthy at any point. Seven years later she was in remission, and was told to quit taking her Arimidex. We were elated. I thought, at that point, my Mom would be around forever...which is something, at one point, I never thought was possible.

  I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. I was able to get back to my life a little, even though I was always in touch with my mom (about 10 phone calls a day), I moved to North Carolina to be with my boyfriend at the time (we got married in 2007). My Mom came to visit around Christmas in 2009...and that's when she noticed a  lump on the back of her head. Long story short, her cancer had come back and taken over. I wanted so badly to believe that she could get through this again, but I knew better. I think she knew that she wouldn't survive this time, but she fought again. She fought, and fought, and fought...until her last breath. She was the strongest person I have ever known.

  Though I am most affected by my mothers breast cancer history, it doesn't stop at that. My Mom also went through this with her mother (my grandmother), and my grandmother went through it with her mother (my great grandmother). In my family, my great grandmother, my grandmother, my grandmothers sister, and my mother have all been diagnosed with breast cancer. Each diagnoses, younger that the previous diagnosed. My Mother was diagnosed at forty three years old. I have been told that the rule of thumb for breast cancer screening is ten years before the previous diagnosis. At thirty three years old, I will finally be able to get mammograms that are covered by insurance. Unfortunately, I am unable and unwilling to accept this "rule of thumb"....this is where my own journey begins.