Our community talks about the life-changing, eye-opening fight against the disease.
Earlier this month, Katie Couric spoke about her recent battle with breast cancer in a heartfelt personal essay. While she does have a family history of cancer, breast cancer was a new chapter she hadn’t imagined facing. But the sad truth is, this disease is incredibly common, regardless of family history: 85 percent of the 264,000 American women diagnosed annually have no family history.
When we published Katie’s essay, we also asked for your survivor stories to show the diversity of breast cancer experiences: We received hundreds of heart-wrenching yet inspiring replies. Women of different ages, life paths, and backgrounds responded with stories that were bursting with gratitude and insight. This Breast Cancer Awareness Month, we’re sharing moving messages from Wake-Up Call subscribers who’ve been touched by breast cancer — and came out on the other side.
“Through a friend, I learned about a study for women at high-risk of cancer. It compared mammograms, ultrasounds, and MRIs for breast cancer diagnoses, and since I’d been diagnosed with and treated for ovarian cancer in the past, I was a candidate. Two years into the study, an MRI revealed something worrying: a tiny tumor in my right breast that didn’t show up on either ultrasound or mammography. That’s how I found out I’m a carrier of BRCA1 — the gene that causes breast cancer. Without the study, my tumor could’ve gone undetected for years and if it had, it would’ve been much larger.
Luckily, there was no lymph node involvement and because of the size of the tumor — 5 millimeters — I was only treated with radiation. I continued with yearly MRIs and mammograms and then had two more battles with ovarian cancer.
Then, in 2016, my breast MRI showed something suspicious: After a follow-up ultrasound, a tiny tumor was found in my left breast.
The medical system isn’t perfect. You need to call for your results — no news doesn’t always mean good news. We need to be our own advocates, to ask questions, and to network with others (that’s how I found out about the study that revealed my breast cancer). We need to be diligent about medical checkups and appointments, and push for what we need as patients.
I am a five-time cancer survivor. I have been dodging bullets since 1999, and I hope my story can help others.”
—Merrill Liverman, from Canada
“At 47, I was in great physical condition. I was working out at the gym when my left upper chest started to hurt, and placed a hand there, feeling a lump above my breast.
I wondered if it was muscle inflammation or a tear, and made an appointment to see my family doctor. After tests and biopsies, they diagnosed me with cancer. I needed a lumpectomy and to have two lymph nodes removed. Thirty-five rounds of radiation followed — an hour every day for 35 days, continuing over Christmas and New Years, too.
Six months after my diagnosis, I got another mammogram. I got called into the doctor’s office — they had found another lump in my right breast.
I went back to the out-of-town cancer center, where the surgeon was more upset than I was. There, I went through another surgery, a lumpectomy, more radiation. This time, I took medication that I couldn’t tolerate, and was off work for 23 months.
It was grueling, but cancer also affects the entire family; my husband and I separated during this time.
I’m 66 now and receive a mammogram and MRI every year. And I’m so thankful for the research, development, and skilled medical community that have kept me alive.”
—Adelle Richards, from Canada
“I was shocked when I was told I had breast cancer — I foolishly thought only large-breasted women could get it. Having the disease felt surreal, but I never doubted that I’d defeat it.
Somehow, through surgery, chemo, and radiation, I never felt pain. My hospital oncology department nurses were wonderful, offering lots of TLC to make the weekly treatments less stressful. And my long-time partner stood by me, making sure I ate even though I had no appetite. He would even bake goodies for the other patients and staff, and bring them in to my weekly chemo appointments. I also had our sweet cat PJ to cuddle with — he knew.
I didn’t work because I had no energy, which was the worst feeling. I wasn’t just tired, I was constantly drained. Though I slept a lot, I always felt exhausted.
In the beginning, my long hair was falling out from chemo. I cried — vanity, I guess. One of the oncology nurses was also a hairdresser, and offered to shave my head for me. But being bald felt odd, so I got a wig. I didn’t like wearing it, but it helped my ego and kept my head warm.”
—Diane Mccamy, from Massachusetts
“I could tell one of my breasts was changing shape — I could feel a large lump. Luckily, I had a doctor’s appointment coming up.
My doctor walked in and I showed her my breast. She examined it and barely hesitated: She knew it was cancer. She set me up with an ultrasound and biopsy the next day.
During the ultrasound, I looked at the screen and saw my tumor. It looked like a monster with tentacles. No one in the room said anything, but we all knew.
My treatments lasted a year. I had surgeries, chemo, and radiation — but those treatments left me with PTSD. I’m now cancer-free, but working on healing myself from the worry that it will come back. I can’t do all that again.”
—Melinda Morris, from South Carolina
“In December 2015, I was looking forward to retirement, having spent 45 years working as an RN. I’d cared for very ill patients, many with various stages of cancer. Two days after retirement, I slipped in an overdue mammogram before hitting the stores to do my Christmas shopping.
They saw a suspicious area in the mammogram and said I needed a follow-up ultrasound, then a biopsy. Then they delivered the news: I had breast cancer and I needed to see a surgeon as soon as possible. My first thought was, How am I going to tell my husband and my family? It was just seven days before Christmas.
Surgery was scheduled for New Year’s Eve — ridding myself of this invader felt like a positive way to start the new year.
The following months were not fun: We had to cancel all our retirement plans to accommodate my chemo and radiation treatments. My husband, sisters, and the cancer warriors I knew were a true blessing to me; they supported me when I felt so sick that I wasn’t sure chemo was even worth continuing. But, by the end of that year I was — and continue to be — cancer-free.
Today I never miss a preventative exam. I had very aggressive breast cancer and that mammogram, which I had put off for two years, helped save my life.”
—Judy Lawson, from New York
“Life before my cancer diagnosis is a blur: I remember noticing a lump in the nipple area that never went away, so my sister and mom encouraged me to get it checked out. My primary physician kept saying I was too young for cancer, but she did feel a lump. She ordered an ultrasound, and you could see in the radiologist’s eyes that something was up when she came into the room after viewing the recordings. She recommended a biopsy. You know how that ended.
I was diagnosed with ER/PR+ HER-stage II breast cancer at the age of 29, two weeks after my wedding in December 2019. I live in California with my husband and all my family is back in Missouri; it was tough to make those phone calls to my parents and friends. But it was even tougher to look my husband in the eyes that night when he came home from work.
On Jan. 9, 2020, I had a left-breast mastectomy, and in surgery, they removed two lymph nodes. Recovery was good, but being newly married and having only one breast does make you feel unpretty.
My oncologist wanted me to do genetic testing and a test called oncotype. When my oncotype score came up as medium, chemotherapy was recommended, in addition to Tamoxifen and Zoladex, the latter of which basically put me into artificial menopause. Getting pregnant anytime between 2020 and 2025 was out the door, which was also a damper to newlyweds planning a family.
I started chemotherapy in March 2020, just as the world was shutting down. When my hair started falling out, I watched chunks fall into my hands as I brushed it daily. And thanks to the pandemic, no beauty shops were open. I felt alone, even though my husband was in the other room.
After my surgery, they determined I’d need radiation, which I started in July 2020, going everyday for 25 days. I returned to work in September 2020, and decided to get a right prophylactic breast removal and bilateral reconstruction in July 2022. I’ll have one more (thankfully minor) surgery this December.
The journey has taught me how strong I am. It’s tested my faith and has brought me closer to people, including my husband. If I could remind people of anything, it’s that they are much, much bigger than anything they are diagnosed with.”
—Michelle Nelson, from California
