Rachel Carson died half a century ago from breast cancer, but her words about nature and humanity still ring true today.
When my cousin Karen was diagnosed with breast cancer, she approached it with a skier's mentality. She knew it would be an uphill battle with bumps along the way. And, although downhill is a good thing to a skier, she looked forward to the next pinnacle in her life.
Mother's Day is coming -- that one day we take to recognize and really appreciate "Mom" for everything she does for us. The reality is that this year...
I have already pondered the trouble with a great deal of "positive thinking" and "positive psychology". Thinking on the bright side, making lemons out of lemonade, "making it a wonderful day" can actually be so negative and even cruel to someone who is suffering on any level.
We are all going to die. Everyone knows that. Having cancer just makes it a little bit more real. I am not a religious person. I know that the majority of the world population do believe in God, heaven and hell and/or some sort of afterlife. That's ok.
Those of us who live in poverty are hidden, while the lives of the wealthy are highlighted in media and the news. More importantly, money has a huge impact on our health and health choices.
But how could I have known that in fact my head is well-shaped, not too big, not too small, no distracting lumps or bumps, scars or curious protuberances. How could I have known how delightful the buzz was to touch?
Two years ago I found out I had an aggressive form of breast cancer. After going through such a sudden, unexpected, terrifying experience, I've begun to question everything. I've developed serious paranoia about the world around me and all of the chemicals we live with.
I see surprise as trumping superstition, though one can't plan it. Passover is coming, on its own. As vulnerable as I'm feeling, physically and emotionally, I feel a sense of something less enslaving.
Breast cancer claimed and lost an activist on March 16th, but God Himself knows she was so much more than that. A loving family surrounded by scores of close friends lost a mom, a wife, a sister, a daughter and cherished friend.
So, during my gazillion plus one time watching Frozen this week, it finally hit me. Elsa and Anna have not only captured the hearts of millions, these miraculous little girls portray the very core of what has taken me 38 years and a battle with breast cancer to discover.
You ride the silent subway from Spanish Harlem to the Bronx at 4 a.m. fists pound on the empty seat beside you face-hardened like a solider in combat lips locked tight
Unfortunately the article, at a glance, may add to the growing perception among journalists, primary care physicians who may not read below the paper's title, and others -- including many ordinary women -- that mammography's effectiveness has been, again, disproved.
When a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer, the first thought is, "Am I going to die?" When a woman finds out she's pregnant, she doesn't think, "Am I going to die?" It is the furthest thing from her mind.
Two days after we adopted Boomer, or she adopted us, my hair fell out. I stared at my reflection (and a crazy-looking woman looked back) for a couple of moments, and then I said aloud, "F*ck it. Go downstairs and cuddle your puppy."
Today I have realized that I am surrounded by angels. They have appeared over the past year in many different guises, but nevertheless I feel that the...