Within that pattern, naturally, there are switchbacks and stalls, like the desire to dissociate from the community you've
Tiffany: I like that definition. Is that why you made the decision to bare your mastectomy scars for this interview? Tiffany
My mother had cancer and I was with her every step of the way for six months throughout her treatment. Two weeks later, I found out I had breast cancer. My response to both diagnoses was vastly different.
My doctor told me, "You have a little, little, little cancer." I was shocked. It didn't run in my family -- I even took the gene test, and I do not have the gene either.
I'm not sure why you stopped talking to me... Maybe it started after the diagnosis. You saw it coming. Even when we were teenagers, you knew you'd have breast cancer... It was no surprise.
Looking back over the past 10 years, I can safely say, that what does not kill you makes you stronger. Having breast cancer was a life-changing event. And for this, I would like to thank my cancer.
It's hard not to fall in love with a man who draws on your body in black Sharpie pen as if you are a priceless canvas, and crafts you a new breast from the cancerous wreckage of your original one.
Those families that have to stand by and watch a loved one be consumed by this horrible disease, or the side-effects of the treatments, are survivors. It's not just the person who gets breast cancer that's affected.
I still remember, like a too-vivid bad dream, exactly how I felt when I first heard the words breast cancer in relation to me and my breast.
In her own words: Christine lost her grandmother, mother, and an aunt to breast cancer. Her husband, a retired NYC firefighter
The day I write this blog marks the four-week anniversary of my double mastectomy.
Early on in my breast cancer diagnosis, I learned cancer treatments can cause infertility. Cancer forced me to wonder: should I invest in my future as a biological mom by choosing a sperm donor literally from a catalog and freezing eggs or embryos?