I’ve never heard anything like it and apparently, not many people have, because the parents of this sweet little girl are at a crossroads over how to treat their 10-year-old daughter, who was just recently diagnosed with breast cancer.
Hannah Powell has invasive ductal carcinoma, Stage IIA.
Here’s the dilemma: What type of treatment should a child with an adult disease receive? Hospitals that deal with breast cancer usually do not treat children, and children’s hospital do not have facilities for treating breast cancer. Hannah’s family posts on their website, “We have two options at this point; (A) Hannah goes to a breast center that does not have the experience in children or (B) she goes to a hospital that has more pediatric care but not so much in the breast cancer area.”
Hannah’s family is searching for answers, and if you have any information that might help them, please stop by their website and let them know. Do you know of any very young breast cancer patients? Do you know of any doctors who have treated very young breast cancer patients? Even if you don’t know how to specifically guide this family, I know your well wishes would help. So pay them a visit when you can.
Want five ways you can decrease your risk of getting breast cancer? FitSugar has them, and the crew over there presents them in a snazzy little slideshow, which really is worth checking out, especially if you like walnuts, little bits of alcohol and sleeping. Click here, see what you think and pass this on to all the women in your life.
At 8 a.m. this morning, I arrived at the oncology clinic at Shands Hospital in Gainesville, FL for a six-month breast cancer follow-up. I sat in a nearly empty waiting room for a short time, then was moved to an exam room, where I had my blood drawn (ouch!), my weight checked (good news), my blood pressure taken (low, but good) and my temperature taken (98.3). Then met with my lovely Dr. who checked my boobs, my lymph nodes, my belly and my breathing.
Everything was just fine.
And then I drove away. And it’s been a glorious day ever since.
Got a giveaway going on over here at this blog, and you’ve got to enter. It’s free, all you need to do is leave a comment on the post and you might just be the lucky winner of a precious baby onesie and burp cloth, compliments of Little Sassy Pants. The best part: If you win, you get to personalize the items just as you wish. Perfect for a baby gift or for your own little ones. Check it all out right here. And if you just want to do some sassy shopping, click here and check out the handiwork of my friend Deidre.
You’d think the days would get easier after four whole years. But still, nearly 1,600 days after my breast cancer diagnosis, it still makes me nervous to sit in an exam room every six months, in my pretty blue gown, waiting for my oncologist to reveal whether or not he feels anything suspicious in my breasts and other body parts, whether or not he finds anything wacky in my blood work and whether or not he’ll report that I am still healthy and apparently cancer-free.
The days don’t get easier, because even though my chances of survival increase with each year that passes, there are still people out there who are re-diagnosed after the exact amount of time that has elapsed for me. A woman who visited our garage sale a few weeks ago told me that on the very day she celebrated five years of survival, she was told her breast cancer had returned and was spreading. She was given three to five years to live. Crap. I haven’t even made it for five years. Clearly, this could happen to me.
Will my oncologist tell me on Monday at 8 a.m. that my cancer is back? I really don’t think so. But I really don’t know, either. And that’s why I’m nervous.
Are you responsible? Like, socially responsible? Blogger Laurie is, and she’s making it her mission to help find a cure for breast cancer by participating this June in the 2009 Race for the Cure that benefits Susan G. Komen for the Cure. Laurie wants to help others, you see, and so she’s got a team and a big event she’s planning — On April 16, she will be hosting a dinner and raffle at On the Border in order to raise funds — and there is no doubt in my mind that she will made a big difference in the lives of others. It only takes one person, you know, to start a movement, and boy will Laurie be moving as she tackles those 60 miles in two months.
To read more about Laurie and her adventures in breast cancer, take a peek at her blog, La Vie de Laurie. And check out her breast cancer awareness page too. Then let this girl inspire you to become socially responsible. Take your own few steps for breast cancer, help a friend in need, deliver a meal to a neighbor in distress, share a few dollars with Laurie — you make the call. Just. Make. The. Call.
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, Joey was almost four, and Danny was 18 months old. Now Joey is eight, and Danny is almost six. And I’m still alive. How’s that for hope?
This isn’t a breast cancer book, but it’s related in a kind-of, sort-of way. You know how we hear all the time that eating a clean diet can help ward off cancer, and how breast cancer recurrence is less likely if you feed yourself mostly nutritious foods? Well, The Everything Flat Belly Cookbook is chock full of healthy recipes — 300 of them, to be exact — and the best thing about this handy, dandy book (except that my friend, neighbor and former trainer wrote it) is that you can whip up these eats in no time at all — and for not much money either. There’s nothing extravagant about the dishes you’ll find here, there are no fancy ingredients you’ll need to hunt down and I’m pretty sure adults and kids alike will gobble up these goodies. I mean, who doesn’t like toasted cheese? It’s in there, and you can make it with a mere 177 calories and absolutely no fat. Like taco salad? Me too. Especially the kind with only 233 calories and 2 grams of fat. And don’t worry, you can get your chocolate fix too. A dark chocolate pretzel rod will fill you with just 76 calories and 3 grams of fat. You won’t want to suck these down, of course, but a bit of chocolate here and there is definitely do-able.
There’s no question this book will help you stay healthy. It’ll keep your abs in fighting flat shape too. Now that’s a two-fer you’ve got to like.
Every time I look down into my kitchen sink, I see this breast cancer strainer drain. A mommy friend gave it to me, way back when I was knee deep in chemotherapy, not a hair on my head. This momma was one of many who dropped by meals for me and my boys, and along with the food she delivered on her assigned night, she brought me this.
If you’re looking for a simple, yet meaningful and not-so-expensive gift for someone touched by breast cancer, this just might fit the bill. Click right here to purchase your very own.
Susan, a mother of four and breast cancer survivor for two years and three months, says, “My college daughter, Kait, created this intaglio ink print (etched on a metal plate) during my treatment in 2007. She never titled it, but to me it is what breast cancer looks like. This print is of our special vacation place, Lakeside, Ohio on Lake Erie. I feel it represents hope, love, comfort and sadness. The picture of myself and my sister (volunteering at the Race for the Cure) ”looks like breast cancer,” because we, as patients, get through the treatment with support from those special people around us.
Want to show me what you think breast cancer looks like? Please send me a photo that captures the essence of breast cancer, and I will display it here. Email to jackidonaldson@gmail.com, make sure your shot is at least 450 pixels wide and tell me something about the photo. No blurry pics, please.
The first time they accessed my port for chemo. My chest is pretty flat because they haven’t filled my expanders with saline yet.
My sister cutting my hair. This was soooooo hard. My boys were watching. Very emotional time for me.
The finished shave. It felt really weird.
A big hug from 3 of my boys. They were very supportive, even though it was very traumatic for them, having to watch my head being shaved.
Post chemo. You can see that I’ve lost most of my eyebrows and lashes. My face is a little puffy from the steroids they put me on during chemo. This was a good day – I was waiting at the airport for my son to get off the plane – he was returning after 2 years on an LDS mission in Japan.
Want to show me what you think breast cancer looks like? Please send me a photo that captures the essence of breast cancer, and I will display it here. Email to jackidonaldson@gmail.com, make sure your shot is at least 450 pixels wide and tell me something about the photo. No blurry pics, please.
Iris says, “Much more than cancer, are friends with whom you can rely on during the most difficult stages of treatment, they do look as a beautiful field of lavender. I had the privilege of being supported by my friends, who planned for my an amazing visit to flower fields of lavender in Quebec after my last session of chemotherapy.”
Want to show me what you think breast cancer looks like? Please send me a photo that captures the essence of breast cancer, and I will display it here. Email to jackidonaldson@gmail.com, make sure your shot is at least 450 pixels wide and tell me something about the photo. No blurry pics, please.
is chock full of healthy recipes — 300 of them, to be exact — and the best thing about this handy, dandy book (except that my friend, neighbor and former trainer wrote it) is that you can whip up these eats in no time at all — and for not much money either. There’s nothing extravagant about the dishes you’ll find here, there are no fancy ingredients you’ll need to hunt down and I’m pretty sure adults and kids alike will gobble up these goodies. I mean, who doesn’t like toasted cheese? It’s in there, and you can make it with a mere 177 calories and absolutely no fat. Like taco salad? Me too. Especially the kind with only 233 calories and 2 grams of fat. And don’t worry, you can get your chocolate fix too. A dark chocolate pretzel rod will fill you with just 76 calories and 3 grams of fat. You won’t want to suck these down, of course, but a bit of chocolate here and there is definitely do-able.
. A mommy friend gave it to me, way back when I was knee deep in chemotherapy, not a hair on my head. This momma was one of many who dropped by meals for me and my boys, and along with the food she delivered on her assigned night, she brought me this.
