Breast Cancer

Prior to his operation, B took photographs of his unmutilated body. It was way before the era of the selfie, but he wanted to document himself while he was still “whole.” Post-surgery, the affected side of his chest would bear a long scar. The nipple was gone. He was not interested in taking steps to reconstruct it.

That’s the thing about being a breast cancer survivor — it’s always there: it never goes away. The scars, the fear that lurks in the back of your mind like a boogeyman. You’re going along nicely, living your merry life, and you’re fine, until you’re not.

That’s the thing about being a breast cancer survivor — it’s always there: it never goes away. The scars, the fear that lurks in the back of your mind like a boogeyman. You’re going along nicely, living your merry life, and you’re fine, until you’re not.

I go for checkups when I’m supposed to: every three months to the oncologist and every six months to the breast surgeon. I go to SHARE support group meetings to bolster myself. I try to get enough sleep, despite the occasional night spent wide-eyed with dread.

A new U.S. Preventive Services Task Force recommendation on mammograms ensures more women will die of breast cancer.

While it sounds like delectable sushi, Musashi proteins are being implicated as another culprit in the regulation of cancer, particularly in the breast.

After decades of (good natured) but rather humiliating breast exams (often from a cold metal robot) it turns out that all that feather kerfluffing