A SURVIVOR'S STORY
- Jane Goodin
- Jan 1, 2006
- 2 min read

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times! The year 1992 was an eventful one. My only daughter got married, my husband and I celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and my twenty-fifth class reunion and I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was looking and feeling great. I had lost all those unwanted pounds and had been exercising regularly. I had noticed a “bump” on my left breast but thought it was due to the weight loss. In October at my annual physical my family doctor was immediately suspicious. I had had a mammogram just eleven months prior which was normal. This mammogram showed there was definitely something there. I had a wonderful surgeon who, after a biopsy, decided a lumpectomy was the best surgery for me. In 1992, most surgeons in this area were performing mastectomies, so I was grateful for his willingness to be “on the cutting edge”. No pun intended! At 43 I was still very vain and the thought of losing a breast had been a life long nightmare. The surgery went well and only one lymph node was involved. The following year was a blur of doctor visits, chemotherapy followed by radiation and more chemotherapy, tests and x-rays. After all treatment ended, a visit to University Hospitals in Iowa City confirmed that I was a candidate to take tamoxifen; which I did for seven years. Throughout this year I continued to work. My employer was very willing to work around my health issues. Some weeks I could only work three days and others four. A year after diagnosis, when all treatment was finished, I became panicky. I was accustomed to seeing a doctor every week. Now I didn’t need to come back for three months. My family and friends appeared to believe all was over an fine and it was time to move on. Trouble was, it wasn’t over for me. Everything was still very real. A co-worker and fellow breast cancer survivor invited me to a meeting of the breast cancer support group. I went apprehensively as I am not comfortable speaking in front of people. The group was small and as we went around the room we could introduce ourselves and give a short synopsis of our cancer story or we could just listen. I was immediately put at ease and wondered why I had waited a year to come. The support group was my salvation. Some months we had group discussion. Other months we had speakers such as the oncology and radiation doctors or surgeons specializing in reconstructive surgery. During these presentations some of my fears were put to rest as to whether the lumpectomy was as effective as mastectomy. Talking to other breast cancer survivors helped me realize most of the emotions and physical conditions I was experiencing was normal. As a twelve year survivor, breast cancer is no longer the number one thought on my mind. It is always there but tucked farther back. I strongly recommend attended a support group and experiencing the camaraderie of fellow breast cancer survivors. Live life to its fullest!





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