Click here to walk with us at Mizner Park in Boca Raton on October 20, 2009! Ms. July 2007
Karen Strauss

Hi, my name is Karen Strauss and I am 48 years old. I am a Licensed Clinical Social worker. I was diagnosed with a Stage IIIA, Ductal Carcinoma on 12/13/05. I am a breast cancer survivor. Here is my story.

I started getting my screening yearly mammogram’s at age 40, just like I was supposed to do. At about age 43, the screening mammogram detected a mass that needed further exploration. I went for a compression mammogram and an ultra sound. After waiting, my doctor called and said all was fine. Again, I started going every year for my mammograms. At a yearly gynecological examination in 2002, my doctor detected a lump in my left breast and referred me a breast surgeon. A couple of days later, I went to the surgeon. He examined me and thought he may be able to do an aspiration right there in the office. I agreed. After a three day wait, he called- It was just a benign cyst. Over the next three years, I had three other aspirations in my left breast- all benign. Due to the density of my breast tissue it was suggested that I have a mammogram every six months. I faithfully followed the doctor’s advice. I also had countless ultrasounds- also fine.

In June of 2005, I went for my six month check up. The doctor called and said they needed more information and sent me for another compression mammogram and an ultra sound. He had two radiologists read the films, both agreed everything was fine. In November, 2005 during a routine self-breast examination I felt a lump in the same location-“not again” I thought, but something told me this was different. I went to my breast surgeon the next week. He said “let’s try to aspirate right here’. I agreed. He took out the long needle and poked the swollen area-NOTHING, but he looked worried. “Go get a mammogram and ultra sound right away” he commented. I went the next day. He called within 24 hours and said- “You have a mass in your left beast- I am going to set up biopsy for you tomorrow”. I arrived at the hospital for my biopsy, still hopeful it was the same thing as always. I went to work after the biopsy. The next day (December 13, 2005) while I anxiously awaiting my test results my cell phone rang while I was standing in the reception area at work. It was the Doctor. “How am I?” I ask. “I am sorry- not so good- you have an aggressive, large malignant tumor in your left breast”. I don’t remember much of what he said after that. “I don’t want to die!” I cried at work- unable to talk. Friends drove me home. The next day, I went to the surgeon- he explained that my mass was too large for a lumpectomy and I would need a mastectomy to remove the cancer. I needed chemotherapy prior to my surgery to shrink the tumor. I felt hopeless, angry and scared. I had a world wind of appointments- MRI’s, PET scans, oncologists, radiation oncologists and breast reconstruction surgeons. Right after my test results came in another smaller mass in my right breast was found. Another biopsy revealed a benign cyst. After careful consideration and a second opinion, I opted for a bilateral mastectomy. The thought of having to go through multiple biopsies each time there was a “iffy” finding was just impossible for me to deal with. I had a minor surgery to get a chemo port to make it easier to give the needed chemotherapy. I started my Chemotherapy right after New Years. I was prepared to lose my hair and went for a wig fitting prior to losing my hair. One day at work about ten days later, I went to touch my hair and it started falling out in clumps. I called the wig salon and scheduled an appointment later that day to get my hair shaved off. I was not going to let the cancer take my hair—I was going to take control of this one small thing. I had 4 rounds of AC chemotherapy. During those long hours in the Chemo room I tried to focus on being positive and thinking “with each dose of this poison going into my body, I am going to be OK”. My white and red blood counts went all over the place. At one point, I had almost no white blood cells remaining. This meant getting Neulasta shots. They felt like a cement truck ran over my body and dumped the cement on it. It was more painful than the Chemotherapy. After three months of chemotherapy, I had my surgery.

My friends and family were all so supportive, without them- I never could have done it. The day after the surgery, the doctor came in and informed me- “the tumor shrunk, but 7 of 11 nodes tested positive for cancer, you will need more chemotherapy and radiation”. I returned for more Chemo therapy a month after my surgery for 4 rounds of Taxol. Although, the Taxol was not as harmful to my blood counts, it took away all my hair- I mean all of it. I had no eye brows or lashes and felt like some sort of weird looking creature. I kept hearing “it will grow back”, but at that time, I could not imagine how. Since my mobility and range of motion did not return in my arms, I needed physical therapy. I went three times a week for two months. “Will I ever be normal?” I asked the therapist. She assured me I would. My mobility returned following much pain and effort. After I sufficiently recovered, I completed my reconstruction, which meant two more surgical procedures. I worked throughout my treatment, only missing time for my surgical procedures. Working helped me think about something else other than my CANCER. It’s been almost eighteen months since that horrendous day. I am now living without any evidence of disease- I exercise regularly and look forward to many more healthy years. I am a strong support advocate for other women starting their breast cancer journey and advocate for prevention for others so they may be able to avoid their own journey.

Click here to join us for Making Strides in October!

American Cancer Society
3350 NW Boca Raton Boulevard
Suite A-34
Boca Raton, FL 33431
(561) 394-7751
(800) ACS-2345
www.cancer.org

Hi, my name is Claire and I am a Breast Cancer Survivor. It has been almost eight years since I first discovered a lump in my breast and while many events of the last seven years have faded into the background, the moment of diagnosis and the terrifying days and weeks after stand in sharp relief.

On that day in August we had just seen The Sixth Sense and I was berating myself for not knowing Bruce Willis was dead until almost the end of the movie. Laughing, I reached up to hug my husband Shelly, and when my arm brushed my left breast, I felt something. It had been ten months since my last mammogram but I had no reason to worry because breast cancer did not run in my family. I was active and in good health and I did frequent self exams and yet when my arm brushed against my breast and I felt something, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had breast cancer. All of the rest, the trip to the doctors office, the mammogram, the ultrasound and finally the biopsy only confirmed what I already knew.

I know I was very lucky. I felt a lump in my breast and acted on it. My cancer was early stage and sentinel node surgery was available to me, so that in the end I only needed a lumpectomy. Since my nodes were clean, I went through six weeks of radiation but no chemotherapy. Not a picnic but like everything else that is difficult, with the support of family and friends you get through it.

But for me, my story doesn’t begin at that moment eight years ago. It began five years earlier when my happy peaceful world began to come apart. My father, against medical advice, had knee replacement surgery from which he never fully recovered. From there his prostate cancer acted up and he began a long and painful battle that ended in his death. Soon after his death, my adorable husband Shelly became ill and need quintuple bypass surgery. Two months after that, my mother had a breakdown and had to be institutionalized. She recovered to a degree but passed away not long after.

I found my breast cancer one year almost to the day after my mother died. Exhausted by stress and grief, my immune system had not been able to combat the cancer on its own. For all of us who have battled breast cancer, each story is so personal, so unique and yet there are common themes; the terror, the sense of paralysis when every action every decision seems impossible, the black and consuming despair and yet we all have our heroes moments of hope and finally our uneasy victory. The hero in this story is my husband. He was there for me through everything. Cheering me, supporting me and most importantly loving me. He helped me take the necessary steps to defeat this disease.

My active involvement with Making Strides Against Breast Cancer is my way fighting back. It is my way of saying I am not helpless! It is my way of giving hope to all of the women who have, are and will battle this horrible disease.

Hello, my name is Michelle and I am a 6 year breast cancer survivor. Being able to say I am a survivor is an oxymoron. Who wants to have had cancer, no one, yet to say I am a survivor means that right now, I have beaten the disease. I am a survivor!

I was diagnosed in November of 2000. One morning in the shower I felt a lump in my left breast, which, I instinctively new was abnormal. I had my routine mammogram a few months earlier, which at the time, I had to go back for other views and an ultrasound, and was told, to watch it and come back in six months. This was only 4 months later, so I called my doctor and was seen within 2 days.

This was the beginning of the journey, starting with a multitude of tests; mammograms, sonograms, needle breast biopsy and a stereo tactic biopsy

As I recall, I somehow managed to continue to work, in a bewildered, frustrated, and scared state of being, wondering what would happen next, was I dying, why did this happen, and of course why me?

This was one more obstacle in my life path that made me question many things and constantly ask why. Being on my own, after having just gone through an amicable divorce, moving, and my mother being very ill, whom I was the primary caregiver; I often broke down and cried, after working hours. During the day I carried around “The Happy Face Syndrome”, I had to deal with everyday events, work, find out information, go to appointments, cope, and learn about things I never dreamed of. I had cancer, and needed to learn as much as possible, and make the right decision. The American Cancer Society was the first place I turned to for information, and other resources, to the point of overload. I saw many doctors, some had different opinions than others, and the bottom line was I had to make the decision. Everyone who has heard the words, yes, It is Cancer, right then and there has a life altering experience, and life changes forever.

With a wealth of information and advice of my doctors, I made the decision to have a double mastectomy with reconstruction, after analyzing the situation over and over, but bottom line was, I wanted to live.

Lucky for me, the cancer was found early, and I did not have to undergo any adjunctive therapy, radiation or chemotherapy. I believe that by doing self breast exams, I helped myself, find the cancer, and get it treated early, so I recommend to all, doing your monthly self exams does work.

I have never regretted my decision, and am happy to be here to tell my story and give hope to others.

My name is Marie Ketelie Seide and I am a breast cancer survivor.

My journey began on September 26, 2005 when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. After she was diagnosed, I became obsessed with my breasts because in 2002 I had five lumps on my left breast but at that time, they were all benign. However, since my mother's diagnosis, I stood in front of a mirror every chance that I had and I performed Self-Brest Exams.

In December 2005 I noticed a dent on my left breast. Immediately, I called my gynecologist. He ordered an ultrasound which was then followed up with a needle biopsy. On January 7, 2006 I received a phone call that the biopsy showed carcinoma in my left breast. This phone call turned my life upside down. For a few minutes I began wondering what I have done so wrong to deserve this punishment?

After these initial feelings went away, I had no choice other than to accept the fact, that I am now one of those women who has breast cancer.

Almost immediately, I was faced with doctors appointments, medical expenses and life and death decisions that I had to deal with. I was angry and depressed but I had to hide my feelings from my husband, my children and my friends to keep them from losing hope because in the Haitian culture, cancer is a death sentence.

During this time, my mothers condition got worse and since I was her sole caretaker, there was no way that I was going to let my mother read my pain, my sadness, nor my anger. I tried not to let it show on my face because if she saw what I was feeling inside, I was afraid that she would stop fighting for her life.

I was lucky enough to have health insurance, and to be financially secure. My husband was able to take time off from work to take care of me. My children put their lives on hold to be with me at each medical appointment. And even my brother was able to take time off from work to take me to my doctor’s visits too. I was very lucky that I had family and friends around me around the clock but I continued to feel as if my world was collapsing. I was still very scared.

During my ordeal, I started to wonder about other Haitians who are in this country alone with no money, no health insurance and worst of all, most of them do not speak or understand English. So what happens to them when they are diagnosed with cancer?

My mother lost her battle with cancer on April 21, 2006 which was exactly one month and twenty one days after my bilateral mastectomy. I was destroyed. My mother was the only person who was able to make me feel good about my self just by looking at me. Since my mothers death, I have decided to devote my life to helping the Haitians in my community who are diagnosed with cancer thru a non-profit foundation that I have opened in my mother’s memory: Marie Louise Cancer Foundation, Inc.

I will always love my mother because thru her battle and now mine, cancer has taught me the true meaning of love, compassion and giving.

Early September of 2003, my husband and I were at our vacation home in Tennessee spending some quiet time before the fall rush. I was going into a busy time at work and so was Charlie. While we were in Tennessee, I discovered a lump in my right breast. I was terrified. I have never been sick in my life, other than the “normal” stuff. I had always prided myself on my “healthy” indestructible manner. My husband, Charlie and I had only been married a little over a year. We were newlyweds I could not believe that this was happening! I was only 45 years old.

Charlie is a radiologist at Holy Cross Hospital in Fort Lauderdale, so when we returned, I immediately went in for mammogram and ultra sound tests. It was, in fact, a 1 ? cm mass. I under went a mastectomy and node dissection. After the surgery (actually I had several surgeries) I then had chemotherapy, 6 cycles of intense treatment. I continued to work through all of my surgeries and treatment. I felt that working would help to keep my mind off of all the hospital visits.

One of the greatest things about this experience was just how wonderful my husband and all of his children were to me. They were all there to support me, cry with me and help keep my spirits high. It has given us a bond that can’t be broken. I remember the first chemo treatment I had, Charlie came to sit with me and we both cried, but only that one time. I looked around me and I saw so many people that were in much more difficult situations and I decided then that I was going to beat this beast! I am blessed to have three wonderful sisters who were also there for me. I have lost one of my sisters to cancer, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and was in remission for over 10 years and it came back as colon cancer. She was a great inspiration to me as I battled cancer. She fought like a champ; I felt if she could fight it, so could I!

It is now 2007; Charlie and I have our first grandchild, Mia Rose. She is the “apple of her grandpa’s eye”. I have quit my job and I am doing volunteer work with the American Cancer Society, because I wanted to help to eliminate cancer. I am working as the Chairperson for the Relay for Life East Boca Raton for the 2007 season. I feel that it is so important to get a cure for cancer. Cancer should be gone once and for all!

I was so excited to attend my grand daughter’s 7th birthday party! I decided at the last minute to travel to Michigan in January to surprise her! I arrived in Michigan, and just as I began opening the front door of my sons house, my cell phone rang; "Boca Raton Community Hospital" was in the caller ID. When I took the call and heard my biopsy came back, Breast Cancer, I held onto the door knob and cried and cried. There was no enjoying the weekend, for as much as I tried to have on my happy face. I could not wait to return to Florida and begin the process of determining what to do next.

After meeting with my breast surgeon, Dr. Porterfield, we decided on a left breast mastectomy. I attended the Multi Modality Clinic at the hospital, and inquired about reconstruction. I then scheduled an appointment with Dr. Rosenthal. He is truly Dr. Miracle Man. My surgery took over 5 hours, but when I woke up, I was a total woman – the tram flap reconstruction was complete. Recovery was slow and painful. I found myself in a very dark place for the first time in my life.

With seven children, it’s hard to believe none of our family lives in Florida; therefore, my husband was my caregiver. He did an outstanding job. I certainly owe my turnaround to him. After several weeks, my husband encouraged me to get up and get moving. I begin to exercise, in the form of walking. I began with just a few short steps to the car, then further and further, and pretty soon I realized I was walking three miles each day. Now, I am running 3 miles each day!

Yes, I am a survivor, it is a slow and tenuous process, but you must live each day with a positive attitude, not telling yourself this is the first day of the rest of my life, but asking yourself, how would I live this day if it were the last day of my life.

It was early September, the school year had just begun and this was going to be my year. The younger of my two boys had started Kindergarten and I was free. Free to lunch, shop and organize family photos. When I arrived at the women’s center at Boca Raton Community Hospital, dressed in my workout clothes, only a small medical procedure stood between me and my appointment with my new personal trainer. You see, just days before my left breast had become swollen and hard, seemingly over night. Immediately, I sought the attention of my gynecologist and was assured that it was just a cyst. He was certain, telling me I had nothing to worry about. This was way too big and sore to be breast cancer and my mammogram, taken only 4 weeks prior, was fine.

Imagine my surprise when the tech at the women’s center informed me she wanted to do another mammogram. I argued vehemently with her. I was only there to get a cyst drained, no mammogram for me. She argued back, finally wearing me down. I returned to the waiting room, sure of having waisted their time and mine. A few minutes later, she returned. “The doctor would like you to get dressed, he needs to speak with you,” she said. So I followed her down a hall where patients don’t usually go; a sense of dread descended upon me. Dr. Saady, a man I had never met before was sitting in a tiny dimly lit room. All my films surrounded us, Ms. Mammogram stood by my side. “There has been significant change in your breast tissue” he said. “Yes, I have a huge cyst!” I replied somewhat confidently. He answered back, “I am afraid your gynecologist may have been wrong. You need to have some biopsies.” “Are you trying to tell me I have breast cancer?’ I asked. His reply, “Yes, it is my belief that you do. Are there any questions you’d like to ask me?”

In that moment my life had changed. Speechless, my head spinning, I managed to say,” Can you give me the name of someone to call?’’ His answer was so comforting that I clung to it like a lifeline throughout the terrifying days ahead. He simply said, “We’ve got you from here.”

I would have 3 biopsies that day, STAT, surrounded by nurses who wiped my tears and offered up their hands for me to squeeze. My husband who was on vacation from his popular radio show was called, as well as my friend Sharyln (the only survivor I knew at the time). Within a matter of hours, I had the diagnosis every woman dreads- HER 2 positive with a tumor that was 5cm x 7cm. In the three weeks that followed I went to a multi-modality clinic, had my case presented at tumor board, met with surgeons, had numerous scans and got a second opinion. There was a sentinel node biopsy and a port inserted into my arm. I had to assemble a team, learn a new language and shop for a wig. I also hosted my best friend’s wedding reception at my house, and accompanied my husband on a radio station trip with 650 listeners who, at the time were unaware of my situation.

During those maddening weeks I also had a consultation with Dr. Louise Morrell. I was overwhelmed, exhausted and having a particularly bad day. I told her I didn’t think I was strong enough to fight. She looked at me with compassion and said, “Well then, we’ll just have to drag you through it, because dying is not an option.” Her words hung in the air. I did not reach up to grab them that day, but at some point I did. I began to fight and the words “dying is not an option” became my battle cry.

Also during those three weeks, my husband and I struggled with the issue of going public with my situation. He was having a hard time going to work and pretending to be happy. So we decided it would be best if everyone knew what was happening. With his buddies around him, he announced to the S. Florida radio audience that I had BC. Just like that, hundreds of thousands of people knew I was ill. The phone began to ring, hundreds of emails and get well cards poured in and the UPS guy arrived at our door everyday with gifts and remedies, supplements and books- too many to count. The community had embraced us and we were humbled.

My battle lasted 16 months and included 4 neoadjuvent AC chemo treatments, a double mastectomy, 8 taxitere treatments paired with herceptin, 33 radiation treatments, 2 reconstruction surgeries, 6 months of physical therapy and a full year of herceptin. It was a trip to hell and back. Although I am not yet thankful for my cancer, I am thankful for the following people:
*My husband who held it together and still managed to look at the sweaty hairless person lying next to him in bed with love in his eyes
*My children and family who inspired me to fight
*My team of doctors: Dr. Skelton, Dr. Morrell, Dr. Rosenthal, Dr. Benda, Dr. Colletta, their nurses and staff.
*Cancer Care Coordination Director Darci McNally
*All my friends and neighbors who made meals, ran errands, chauffeured my children and me, and held us up with their love and prayers.
*My son’s teachers who loved on them a little more and demanded a little less
*The women at St. Joan of Arc who decorated my Christmas tree and held a prayer service before my surgery
*All my husband’s listeners and business associates who reached out to us
*The ladies responsible for my sanity, my new sisters from the support group at BRCH
*Mid Coast Hospital in Maine for their “Prepare for surgery heal faster” program
*The creators of the iPod, which became my constant companion

For these things and many more I am thankful. A few weeks ago a received my last herceptin treatment and my port was removed. My recent MRI was clean. I now find myself at the beginning of 2007 and this is going to be my year.

Life does not end with a Cancer Diagnosis, instead it Renews your Spirit to Live....

In the Fall of 2005 I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 40. Exactly five days later, I was married on a beach overlooking the ocean and dreaming of all the possibilities. The day after my wedding the tests began; I was determined not to let cancer stop me from living. I was shocked when the test results revealed that I actually had metastases meaning the cancer had spread.

Although this was devastating news, I was very thankful to be properly diagnosed. This meant I could choose the proper treatments for my stage 4 breast cancer. I sought expert advice and spoke to three breast oncologists separately. Armed with a simple approach to treat this like a ‘chronic disease,’ I learned that treating stage 4 cancer is possible. I have to be scanned often and switch drugs from time to time to keep stable. There are many stage 4 patients out there living many years thanks to educated oncologists.

My medical journey started with a clinical trial. I was eligible based on my cancer ‘receptor’ status. My first drugs received were Herceptin and Avastin; these are monoclonal drugs - targeted therapy drugs (monoclonal drugs are available for certain cancers.) I learned a lot from participating in a clinical trial. The quality of care is excellent as there are strict FDA protocols overseeing the safety of all patients. I have a deep respect for the dedication of the physicians and researchers. I benefited by having a good response to these drugs for 6 months.

I changed my treatment plan to an aggressive form of chemotherapy for an additional 6 months and overall my response was very good. Currently, I am on a hormone treatment and monoclonal drug. This formula has enabled me to be stable and have a break from chemotherapy.

Last week I experienced a cutting edge treatment for my new brain metastases called Stereotactic Radiosurgery. This is a one time treatment of targeted radiation to specific brain tumors. I was able to recover from this treatment with no physical or cognitive side effects. It is truly amazing to see the successful treatments available to cancer patients. I was able to go out shopping and to dinner the next day.

The most exciting news to me of late is a new drug in the FDA pipeline called 'Tykerb.’ This is a targeted drug for Her2 positive breast cancer patients like myself. The drug has performed well in clinical trials and is about to be approved by the FDA.

This Holiday season has a very special place in my heart. I am Thankful for all the Doctors, Researchers, Physicists, Scientists, and my family and most of all for my Husband. As I reflect on the year, I am Thankful for all the opportunities I have been given. I have raised money for breast cancer research, shared my story in a radio interview, and Lifetime television has used me as one of the faces of breast cancer. I even met Sheryl Crow while on a trip to Houston- now that was cool!

I am living with cancer and I continue to count the blessings!

Happy New Year to All!
Laura

Making Strides Against Breast Cancer Chairperson 2005, 2006 & 2007

Always a Silver Lining!

Geri Bell believes that life is a choice: how we live it, how we deal with it, how we value it. Geri was diagnosed with stage one breast cancer when she was 30. Weighing the risks of chemotherapy, elective surgeries, and breakthrough cancer treatment, Geri remained undeterred. “My choice was not to be all depressed and sad about it. I did not want to bury myself. I wanted to be a happy person… inside and out.”

“I do have bad days absolutely and everybody is entitled to those.” A major part of that coping process is constant vigilance to her health. That lifestyle began before her first diagnosis and helped to save her life.

Geri did not experience nausea associated with chemo but she did lose her hair. She was able to find realistic wigs and she received endless compliments when she wore her wigs, something she never experienced with her natural hair. “Strangers would ask me where I had my hair done. Pleased but embarrassed, I’d tell them I had it done in New York.”

In 2006, Geri was faced with a second diagnosis of Breast Cancer and this time she had a double mastectomy and breast reconstruction surgery with mature reassurance. “I do not want anyone to feel sad or bad for me, because, as all of you know, Breast Cancer is a part of who I am. I am looking at this diagnosis and surgery with a silver lining: I get a FREE BOOB JOB!”

Because she still wants children, Geri decided to postpone her chemotherapy following her double mastectomy in order to harvest her eggs and freeze them for future fertilization. When her harvesting is over she will have an elective oopherectomy and begin chemotherapy. Following all of these procedures, Geri’s chances of a recurrence of cancer have been decreased dramatically. Over the past few years, Geri has become extremely active with The American Cancer Society not only as a Board Member, but also as the Chairperson for Making Strides Against Breast Cancer. Geri is a true inspiration to all women young and old who are faced with Breast Cancer.

Geri has been the South Palm Beach Units - Making Strides Against Breast Cancer Committee Chairperson for the 2005 & 2006 events. Geri will continue to hold this chair position in 2007. Geri is also an active Board Member for the South Palm Beach Unit of the American Cancer Society.

You too can be a survivor of the month!! This is your chance to inspire others to help in the fight against Breast Cancer.

Simply email a picture of yourself, loved one or friend along with 2-3 paragraphs of your/their inspiring story and email it to: [email protected]

The South Palm Beach Unit of the American Cancer Society is located at:
3350 NW Boca Raton Boulevard
Suite A-34
Boca Raton, FL 33431
(561) 394-7751
(800) ACS-2345
www.cancer.org