Filed under: Breast Cancer , Television , Cancer Survivors Celebrities catch our attention. They cause us to pay attention too -- which is likely why the media uses celebrities and prominent people to send messages about all sorts of issues, like breast cancer. It's not just the real-life survivor celebrity stories -- about Melissa Etheridge and Elizabeth Edwards and Sheryl Crow -- that make headlines and attract ratings. It's also the portrayal of cancer survivors on television that raises awareness about this disease. It's not a new trend -- it started long ago when All in the Family's Edith Bunker (Jean Stapleton) experienced a breast cancer scare, marking one of the first times the issue of breast cancer was discussed openly on TV. Tough cop Mary Beth Lacey (Tyne Daly) of the TV show Cagney & Lacey traveled a breast cancer journey. Sisters eldest sister Alex (Swoosie Kurtz) was diagnosed with breast cancer and survived chemotherapy with family by her side. Beverly Hills, 90210 character Brenda Walsh (Shannen Doherty) found a lump in her breast and shed light on the fact that young women are not immune to breast cancer. Sex and the City's Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall) developed breast cancer and proudly pulled off her wig on television. The L Word's Dana Fairbanks (Erin Daniels) lost her battle with breast cancer. And on Angela's Eyes, FBI agent Angela Henson recently learned her mother once had breast cancer -- and that it has come back. There are many others television story lines woven with the thread of breast cancer. They draw viewers and boost ratings. They also raise awareness -- because people pay attention to celebrities. Read     Permalink     Email this     Linking Blogs     Comments

Filed under: Breast Cancer , Cancer Survivors I have had a hard time keeping my counseling appointments lately. Life keeps getting in the way, and counseling keeps getting pushed to the side. The last time I called my counselor to cancel -- due to an emergency room trip with my three-year-old -- I mentioned that my inability to keep up with sessions was perhaps a precursor to an eventual termination of our counseling relationship. My counselor -- Lindsay -- said this was maybe an accurate assessment, that we should discuss the possibility of an ending point. We haven't yet discussed it, though, because I have not made the time to contact her. I have continued to leave counseling on the back burner. But today Lindsay sent me an e-mail to check in. She wrote that I am probably going to be okay on my own now -- in the aftermath of cancer -- and that we should have one final session to reflect on my progress over the past 16 months. I have not replied to Lindsay -- not because I am busy with other things but simply because her words made me cry. They still make me cry, hours later. I'm not exactly sure why. And I'm not exactly sure how I will follow up on scheduling my very last session. I assume my tears -- my sadness -- are part of the healing process, part of the separation anxiety I feel each time a part of my treatment ends and a part of my life moves on. I assume I am sad at the prospect of leaving a vital part of my recovery behind, about leaving the comfort of my counseling chair, about leaving Lindsay. The possibilities are endless. And I suppose we will cover all possibilities when Lindsay and I sit down for our last, final, concluding session -- when we recall how much I have grown since the day we first met, when I could barely mutter a word about cancer without weeping uncontrollably, when I could barely manage to find pleasure in my days, when I could barely imagine that life could -- and would -- offer me peace and happiness. Today, life is good. And it's clear that counseling is no longer necessary for my survival. But that doesn't make it any easier to make my final appointment. To contemplate saying my last goodbye. To tackle life completely on my own. Which is what I will do -- in time -- so I can continue moving on, away from breast cancer. Permalink     Email this     Linking Blogs     Comments

Filed under: Breast Cancer , Sunday Seven I sometimes complain about the lack of warmth I've encountered from medical professionals throughout my journey with breast cancer. There have been glimpses of compassion. And there are a few who stand out as truly caring and concerned. But there seems to be a general lack of sensitivity. Maybe it's a side effect of the job -- distance -- that I should have been prepared for. But instead I was shocked by how I often felt forgotten, like a number, just one of many in my same boat. And this makes me sad -- for me and for all the others who sail rough waters in search of health. I have waited in lobbies for hours -- four hours one time -- and I've been encouraged to toughen up. I've rarely felt comforted -- except by a few who have hugged me or placed a hand on my shoulder. That's all it takes. A simple gesture or kind word. Words have given me great strength -- and despite my criticism of some of my medical people, the first kind words that came my way were handwritten, on personalized stationery from the surgeon who performed my biopsy and then called me at home with my diagnosis of cancer. He wrote: Just a brief note to let you know that I regret being the messenger of bad news. But I know that you will come through this difficult time healthy and strong. I and my staff wish for you a smooth and speedy recovery. And here are six other sentiments -- from friends and family -- that have helped me survive. You must be so tired from your honorable battle, but I for one am grateful you have the chance to do this battle, rather than the alternative. You've always been a tough cookie and I know you will beat this -- you have to. I hope mostly that you will draw strength from yourself, from that part of you deep down that loves life and knows that every moment spent fighting back is worth it. My impression of you is that (1). You are very witty and (2). You have awesome calf muscles! What can't you overcome with wit and great calves, huh? I think you are gorgeous BALD! When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and swing. My own words cannot adequately express what these words have done for me. And what they keep doing for me. They are helping me survive. Permalink     Email this     Linking Blogs     Comments

Filed under: Cervical Cancer , Magazines I will share anything and everything about my own experience with breast cancer -- how I found it, how it was removed, how it was treated, how I fared through the whole ordeal, how I'm surviving now. I figure that if I spread the word about what happened to me, that others will become more aware and some -- especially those with a new diagnosis -- will benefit from whatever wisdom I have to impart. So I am an open book. I talk about breast cancer, answer questions about breast cancer, and probably insert my opinion about the topic to some who don't really care. But I will continue talking and sharing -- and writing -- because the alternative would be a disservice to the few I may be able to help. So a card stuck in the middle of a magazine caught my eye the other day. The slogan on it reads, Tell Someone and the illustrations on this card -- that functions as a postcard -- show women reaching out to other women. There are women talking on the phone and a woman tapping another on the shoulder. The message they appear to be spreading is highlighted in the text below the graphic representation of this campaign to raise awareness of cervical cancer. The message is about HPV -- human papillomavirus -- and about how millions of women already have it and how some don't even know they have it. I learned from reading this card that for some, HPV will clear on its own. But for some, cervical cancer may develop. This is why Pap tests are critical. And so what all women should be telling other women is this -- ask your doctor about the importance of Pap tests. And be active in your own health. And follow all recommendations for detecting health concerns early. I learned from reading this card that I should tell someone about this. And so now I have. Read     Permalink     Email this     Linking Blogs     Comments