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" Tell your story to someone you love Researchers and doctors get all kinds of credit for breakthroughs in breast cancer treatment, but guess who else deserves an award: you. You and your sisters, mothers, grandmothers, and friends who&amp;#039;ve opened up to one another about this disease. Talking about breast cancer isn&amp;#039;t just cathartic; it leads to more self-exams and annual mammograms, to research funding and improved treatments. It wins insurance coverage, paid leave, and caregiver support. It helps families face loss, and helps survivors move forward into a healthy future. To honor your groundbreaking conversations about breast cancer, we&amp;#039;re sharing a few of the dialogues recorded by StoryCorps, a nonprofit that has captured more than 45,000 personal narratives. These people told their stories to each other\u2014but also to you. Let&amp;#039;s keep talking. StoryCorps captures and celebrates the conversations that bond us all. Talk about a shared experience at a recording studio in your area (find a location at storycorps.org). Or download the organization&amp;#039;s Do-It-Yourself Instruction Guide. You can also check out their new book, Ties That Bind: Stories of Love and Gratitude From the First Ten Years of StoryCorps, out this month.  &amp;quot;You can handle anything&amp;quot; Gordon and Vicky Wight, Houston Just six weeks after this married couple&amp;#039;s second daughter was born, Vicky was diagnosed with breast cancer. Their conversation was recorded 13 months after her double mastectomy. VICKY: I know there are people who think, Oh, I&amp;#039;m so afraid of getting cancer. But I never thought I was going to have cancer. In a million years, I never thought I&amp;#039;d get cancer. GORDON: You lived your life like you were indestructible. VICKY: Well, because I always was. When you get diagnosed, you feel like you&amp;#039;re going to die in a week. And then three weeks later you feel desensitized and you&amp;#039;re kind of tired of crying. Your fear of death goes away when you start chemo, because you want to die. People at the end of their lives who want to die\u2014I&amp;#039;ve never understood them until this. GORDON: To see the chemotherapy sap the life out of you, but to see you come out on the other side of it\u2026 over the past couple of months, we&amp;#039;ve seen a rebirth of your energy, of your smile. VICKY: I was talking to a friend the other day and she said, &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;ve got a great husband,&amp;quot; and I said, &amp;quot;I know.&amp;quot; They say you can really see someone&amp;#039;s character when times get tough. I didn&amp;#039;t really understand that, but you were like a\u2026 there&amp;#039;s no description. Now I know that if anything ever happens again, you&amp;#039;re like an Army Ranger, you&amp;#039;re like a Navy Seal. We can do anything now, because you can handle anything. You have the strongest character of anyone I&amp;#039;ve ever met. You&amp;#039;re the best man I&amp;#039;ve met in my whole life. I&amp;#039;m lucky. GORDON: We&amp;#039;re both pretty lucky. VICKY: Sometimes I feel that I&amp;#039;m luckier\u2026 though you are pretty lucky, let&amp;#039;s be honest. All your jokes come directly from me. [Both laugh] GORDON: It&amp;#039;s true. I recycle them. VICKY: We&amp;#039;re kind of back to reality, to the day-to-day wonderful fabulous routine of waking up, making a cup of a coffee, eating, all that we take for granted. I&amp;#039;m never going to be bored with anything ever again. Every little thing is great. In the old days, I would say, &amp;quot;If I died right now, I&amp;#039;d be happy. I had a great life.&amp;quot; But I have a great life, and I want to keep going and going and going. And we&amp;#039;re gonna do it together.  &amp;quot;You&amp;#039;ll find the strength to do what you have to do&amp;quot; Lynetta White (left) and Denise E. Gilmore, Kansas City, MO Sisters Lynetta and Denise recorded a conversation about their mother on what would have been her 78th birthday. Since then, both sisters have been treated for breast cancer. LYNETTA: Mama always had interesting quotes. We would hear her saying, &amp;quot;Every shut-eye ain&amp;#039;t sleep.&amp;quot; DENISE: &amp;quot;Every good-bye ain&amp;#039;t gone.&amp;quot; LYNETTA: And on the rare occasions when someone questioned her advice, she would say to them, &amp;quot;If I tell you a mouse can pull a house, don&amp;#039;t ask how\u2014 DENISE: \u2014just hook him up!&amp;quot; When she was diagnosed and going through treatment for breast cancer, the chemo treatment was a better part of an eight-hour day. I remember telling her, &amp;quot;Mama, how do you do this? I just don&amp;#039;t see how you can do this. It looks so painful. I don&amp;#039;t think I could do this.&amp;quot; And she said, &amp;quot;Don&amp;#039;t ever say what you can&amp;#039;t do. Because you&amp;#039;ll find the strength to do what you need to do when you have to.&amp;quot; She actually outlived what the doctors thought by four years. LYNETTA: Yeah, she used to say, &amp;quot;Everybody&amp;#039;s feeling sorry for me because I have cancer, but there&amp;#039;s no guarantee that you&amp;#039;re gonna live longer than me.&amp;quot; DENISE: And every time there was a funeral at church, she would say, &amp;quot;See?&amp;quot; LYNETTA: And do you remember when we had her 68th birthday party? That party was two months before she passed away. DENISE: She said it wouldn&amp;#039;t do any good for people to come to her funeral. She wouldn&amp;#039;t be able to hear what they had to say. We had a beautiful evening of poetry and song and testimonials and people sharing funny stories and memories. LYNETTA: Laughing. Crying. DENISE: When Mom finally got up to speak, she said, &amp;quot;I hope you all made peace with it, because I&amp;#039;ve made peace with it. I know where I&amp;#039;m going.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You were there to do the walk with me&amp;quot; Joyce-Ann Velez Robles (right) and Aida Montalvo Richardson, Colorado Springs, CO Joyce and Aida met as promotoras (health advocates) for their local Latina community. They spoke four months after Aida finished radiation. AIDA: When I had my mammography, I was stunned that the doctor said, &amp;quot;There is a suspicious mass.&amp;quot; The doctor&amp;#039;s comment to me was, &amp;quot;Wait six months and we&amp;#039;ll deal with it then.&amp;quot; I couldn&amp;#039;t believe a doctor would take it so lightly, and it&amp;#039;s a good thing that I pursued it, because it was breast cancer. JOYCE: We teach people how to recognize this, but when it&amp;#039;s this close to home it&amp;#039;s hard to accept. AIDA: I can&amp;#039;t even begin to tell you how much it meant to me that you were there to do the walk with me. You called me every day. You brought me food to eat. It was a journey of 1,000 miles, but hey, I made it. Every day you wake up and see the sun, it is a great day. JOYCE: I have so much admiration for you. One thing you need to remember, Aida, is although your radiation and your doctors&amp;#039; appointments are done, you need to take time for yourself. We as Latina women tend to put ourselves on the back burner, and we need to be first. AIDA: You are talking to the choir.  &amp;quot;You taught me how to love again&amp;quot; Pam (left) and Rachel Anderson, Akron, OH Pam shared with her daughter, Rachel, what it was like to lose her own mother to breast cancer. RACHEL: I&amp;#039;m so sorry I never met her. She sounds really amazing. PAM: My mom was amazing. I miss her. She talked to everyone else about her death, but she and I talked about miracle cures. When it was clear that she was dying, I called her name; I said, &amp;quot;Mom, Mom, Mom\u2026&amp;quot; And she rolled her head around and opened her eyes and looked at me, and she had eyes just like yours, blue with that black ring around the edge. And I was holding her hand. And Dad held his fingers to his lips and looked at me to just let her go. So I stopped saying her name. She rolled her head back toward Dad and closed her eyes and died. It was such a shocking time. I grieved her terribly. I didn&amp;#039;t think I could ever feel happiness again. Then Aunt Robin was going to have her twins, and I was her coach for the birth. I had never witnessed a birth. And Alex was born, the girl twin, and she turned her head toward me and opened her eyes and it was exactly the look my mother gave to me when she was dying, and I just gasped. That was when I started to heal from my mother&amp;#039;s death. Alex is my goddaughter, and my mother lives in her. It&amp;#039;s the same with you, and it&amp;#039;s kind of stunning. You&amp;#039;ve been the biggest influence in my life. RACHEL: What lessons have I taught you? PAM: When my mom died, I didn&amp;#039;t think I could really love again. When I was pregnant with you, I thought, Oh, no, what if I don&amp;#039;t love this baby? But you were born and I loved you. You taught me how to love again.  &amp;quot;I had two choices: to stop living or start living&amp;quot; Raymond Rice and Wanda Harvey, New York City Raymond is one of about 2,000 men who get breast cancer each year. He spoke to Wanda, his close friend and coworker of 20 years. She passed away from lupus since their conversation. RAYMOND: When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I couldn&amp;#039;t find any words to tell my wife, so I got a pen and a piece of paper, and as she sat down to watch TV, I handed her a note. WANDA: How did you feel at that time? RAYMOND: Well, I had two choices: to either stop living or start living. WANDA: Amen. And how did you become a breast cancer advocate? RAYMOND: I remember lying in the hospital, surrounded by so many people who were sick. I was healthy my whole life. I was in the military. I was an avid runner. And I was always an outgoing person. I decided to get up out of the bed and speak to people about my situation. At that point, it wasn&amp;#039;t about what happened to me, it was about what I was going to do about it. I started going into men&amp;#039;s shelters. The men were receptive and asked me questions, and it dawned on me that they weren&amp;#039;t being reached by the medical profession. You know how women take men out shopping? People need to get their uncles and fathers to the doctor to get a physical. Because men don&amp;#039;t generally go to doctors and have annual checkups like women do. It&amp;#039;s very important for daughters, nieces, and grandchildren to get that man off the couch. Make a day of it, go out and have some dinner, and let him know, &amp;quot;No matter what happens, we are here for you.&amp;quot; We need to know that someone is going to be there for us when we&amp;#039;re down.  You&amp;#039;re my only daughter, and it makes me so scared for you&amp;quot; Joann (left) and Jessica Deliz, Detroit When Joann, a mom of four grown children, found a lump, she put off telling her family, including her daughter, Jessica. JOANN: I found the lump and I didn&amp;#039;t want to say anything to anyone about it because your brother Jeff was having shoulder surgery, and I wanted to be there for him. The next week, I did say something to Dad. I got into bed and said, &amp;quot;I think I need to have a lump checked.&amp;quot; I had him feel it and he got this really scared look on his face. When I got the diagnosis, I didn&amp;#039;t cry, but it felt like an out-of-body experience. It was this weird feeling, like a quiet rushing over me. I hate the word cancer. I told my doctors, &amp;quot;Let&amp;#039;s refer to it as my &amp;#039;diagnosis.&amp;#039;&amp;quot; I think the word sounds nasty and negative. JESSICA: Who do you feel it was the hardest to tell? JOANN: It was hardest to tell you, because you&amp;#039;re my only daughter, and it makes me so scared for you. I have two aunts on Grandma&amp;#039;s side who had breast cancer. JESSICA: I can completely picture the day you told us. JOANN: Remember we had that torrential storm? JESSICA: Yes. It&amp;#039;s kind of weird. There was a storm, and a storm in our house. You were afraid you were going to start crying and you were going to get me upset. Dad said it as plain as day: Mom has breast cancer. JOANN: Your dad was very stoic. Starting the Belief Foundation\u2014that has been his way of dealing with it. He started it with good friends of ours. I wanted local help for the women I saw every day when I was having chemo. There was one woman who didn&amp;#039;t have the money for the anti-nausea medication. It was $400 for the shot. Her insurance wouldn&amp;#039;t cover it. And my heart just broke, because I knew she was going to be so ill when she got home. JESSICA: You had people in your life helping you. Were you surprised by some of the attention you got? JOANN: When you go through something like this, you truly find out who your friends are. They&amp;#039;re going to be there when you&amp;#039;re bald and feeling ugly to tell you how beautiful you look and help you try on different hats. But I will tell you this, I will never send flowers again to somebody who is sick. The money could be used to purchase a meal for that person when they can&amp;#039;t cook. Now, whenever somebody is sick, I always find out where they like to eat and get a gift certificate. JESSICA: I&amp;#039;ll never forget when your hair first started coming out and you had me cut it so that it was even. You looked in the mirror and said, &amp;quot;For the first time, I actually look like a cancer patient,&amp;quot; and you broke down really bad. Why do you think it hit you so hard? JOANN: Because I think deep down all women have a little bit of vanity. I&amp;#039;m not big into makeup, but your hair, it&amp;#039;s like an identity thing, I think. It was kind of shocking, wasn&amp;#039;t it? Wasn&amp;#039;t it fun, though, when you could color it and did all the different colors? JESSICA: It was!  &amp;quot;Breast cancer made us reconnect&amp;quot; Timothy A. Lukas and Claudia E. Ortega-Lukas, Reno, NV Tim and Claudia are the parents of two sons. Claudia was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 45. TIM: How do you think this experience has changed our relationship? CLAUDIA: I think it has made us a lot stronger, because it&amp;#039;s made me understand how you function, how you interpret the world around you. I think there was a point where I was feeling sort of disconnected and I wasn&amp;#039;t sure why. When we talked about my diagnosis, you didn&amp;#039;t say much, but the way you reacted, you have been by my side the whole time. You have. TIM: I&amp;#039;ve always been there and I always will be. Right before you got sick, we had so many things going on. Maybe if there&amp;#039;s anything that&amp;#039;s a blessing from having to go through such an ordeal, it&amp;#039;s the ability to slow your life down a little bit\u2014to have a greater appreciation of what matters the most. I like volunteering, I like doing things, but we have only so many nights in the week, with the boys growing up and becoming men\u2026 CLAUDIA: Breast cancer did slow us down a little, and I think it made us reconnect at a different level. You know, I don&amp;#039;t think that otherwise it would have been possible. TIM: I love you. CLAUDIA: I love you too. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.redbookmag.com/life/charity/a16077/amazing-breast-cancer-stories/>