• In 1991, Sarah Cannon gave her stage name, Minnie Pearl, to The Cancer Education and Research Council, becoming The Minnie Pearl Cancer Foundation. The Foundation is a public charity committed to funding programs that provide the greatest benefit to cancer patients and their families.

My story..Katharine, Nashville, Tennessee

Many Nashvillians remember January 16, 2003. Mid-morning, several inches of quickly falling snow and ice sent commuters and school buses out onto treacherous roads in panic. The city was virtually paralyzed in every direction, and heroic drivers later shared stories of challenges about spending 5 to 6 hours in their cars to reach their driveways safely before their gas tanks were empty and their cell phones lost their charge.

I'll never forget that overwhelming snowstorm-I worried about the safety of my family and friends as everyone scrambled to catch the most logical ride home. Yet, I reveled in the fact that my annual check-up and mammogram would, of course, be cancelled and that I could postpone that dreaded encounter for months.maybe I would reschedule for the summer months. After all, there was nothing pressing that I had to go for. Within a few days, however, my doctor's office assistant was calling and leaving messages that I needed to reschedule. I knew she was right so I reluctantly rescheduled for the next month.

As a childhood cancer survivor, I had a lifelong tendency to avoid medical visits when I could. Memories of the challenges of a cancer diagnosis as a teenager in the spring of 1975 were always just below the surface. I kept my emotions close and had never thoroughly explored what was at the core of the experience: lingering fear in spite of healed scars and a clean bill of health.

Having Hodgkin's disease as a teenager, as with any malignancy, can brand you as "unhealthy" (even among the most well-intentioned friends). The diagnosis challenged me at a young age, and in a small town where news travels quickly, to move beyond the imposed limitations and uncertainties that a cancer diagnosis brings. Support groups were not standard fare in the 1970s. People seldom spoke openly about cancer and, in my small town, children certainly didn't have cancer. I politely handled the questions regarding my health status and even tried to put inquirers at ease, but I was painfully aware that I was segregated from my friends as they went on to prom and made plans for a carefree summer.

As I moved into my adult years of marriage and motherhood, I nicely tucked the entire experience away and seldom discussed it with anyone. Few people outside my hometown knew that I had ever experienced such an illness, an illness that had almost become surreal during my adult years. But as most cancer survivors will admit, one of the most difficult obstacles in healing is overcoming the fear of recurrence. I had survived the illness but, throughout the years, had not conquered the fear. How would I ever be able to cope with another cancer diagnosis, were it ever to occur again? Most significant to me was the fact that, as a mother, the stakes would be even higher if I had to face cancer again. How would I endure treatment and share that painful knowledge with my three daughters?

During that rescheduled mammogram following the snowstorm, I had a second cancer diagnosis, a breast cancer diagnosis, almost 28 years to the day of the first diagnosis. This second diagnosis forced a coming to terms with the fear that had stalked me for years. In disbelief, I heard the radiologist describe a "suspicious area"; the smell of hospital linens conjured vivid memories of earlier hospital stays; and the sickening and all too familiar nausea of fear gripped me. Transitioning back to cancer treatment was, indeed, emotional and powerful because my lingering fear had become reality. However, this time around, I was the adult in charge of my choices, I focused on each phase at hand, and I was determined to move through the treatment as normally as possible, if not for me, for the sake of my family. Thankfully, once again, I was offered the profound gift of hope that my prognosis was positive, a humbling gift that has twice enriched my life and crystallized the wisdom that no day be taken for granted. An obvious lesson in my story is that women should never ignore following through on mammograms. I shudder to think of my prognosis and length of treatment had I not rescheduled that mammogram.

Fear simply doesn't have a place in my life anymore because of the love and grace from my friends, my parents and sister, and my family.a loving, calming husband who assured me that, no matter what, we would face the diagnosis together and three cherished daughters, whose love dissolved the fear I had allowed to have too much power and that had made me weary. Opening up the experience to them and sharing my medical past with them freed me from the fear of cancer. I faced cancer a second time, and what once attempted to claim my energy and to intimidate my self confidence has been replaced by hope and peace. Although the cancer experience is undoubtedly part of my identity, it will never claim my spirit or define me nor will it ever overshadow my "today".

My Story...Josie, Nashville, TN

I am a breast cancer survivor. Being a survivor means a second chance to live each day at a time to its fullest and take nothing for granted. It means another chance to do something for someone else so that my living is not in vain.

I was only 24 years old when I was diagnosed with Infiltrating Duct Carcinoma with metastasis to the lymph nodes. I had just completed my studies as a Medical Technologist at Meharry Medical College when a small lump was detected in my left breast by my gynecologist. He immediately referred me to a specialist, but I didn't go because I thought 24-year-olds couldn't possibly get breast cancer. That was twenty two years ago.
About three months later, I went to see my doctor after noticing that the lump had grown to the size of a golf ball. The next day, I had a modified radical mastectomy with twenty-eight lymph nodes removed (fourteen positive for cancer). I underwent  one year of chemotherapy and twenty-eight treatments of radiation.
Being two years new in Nashville and miles from my home in Mississippi, my strength came from God. Through the power of prayer, friends, and church family I was finally beginning to overcome the feeling of helplessness. I remember at some point thinking "Am i disfigured? Will I be able to wear see through or low cut clothing? Would men find me attractive? Will I ever get married or even have a meaningful relationship again? " I didn't think much about dying because my mother was a breast cancer survivor. I also remember praying that God would give me peace through this whole ordeal. I know that breasts help to define being a female, but breasts don't define what it means to be a woman.
Since then I have had reconstructive surgery. I continue to be an active church member, work full-time at St. Thomas Hospital,and volunteer my time to the American Cancer Society. I am a Reach-to-Recovery volunteer, Co-coordinator and Founder for A New Beginning (support group for breast cancer survivors) for sixteen years,and an American Cancer Society board member.
                                                                                       

My Story...Selena, Spring Hill, TN

It is amazing how you find your greatest strength in your weakest moment.  I know this now. This month, August 2004, I will be celebrating my 28th birthday on August 26.  That very date is also the 6th anniversary of the day I was given the results of my breast biopsy.  Yes, you read that right, on my 22nd birthday...what a gift!  I chose to have both breasts removed, I figured "I'm 22, I want them to match whether they are there, or not."  The cancer was extensive, it had even spread to 10 out of the 12 lymph nodes they tested.  My outlook was not good. In short, my treatment included four rounds of chemotherapy, a stem cell transplant at Duke University, and radiation therapy.  All of this was followed up with a bilateral tram flap reconstruction and multiple revision surgeries. In March 2000, one month before I was to get married, I was diagnosed with avascular necrosis, probably a result of some of my treatments.  This is where the ball joints in your body die and collapse.  Since that time, I have had both hips and one knee replaced.  I am putting off replacing my other knee as long as possible.  I may walk with a slight limp, and have difficulty in high heels, but I'm still alive! There is always hope.  My chances were slim, and I lived.  I was told I couldn't have kids, my son was born October 15, 2002.  I have a wonderful husband who I met while I was bald and breastless.  This sounds strange, but I truly am a better person for having had breast cancer.

My best advice is not to dwell on the "what ifs?" or the bad things that can happen and focus on your inner strength.  You also need to laugh a lot!  My mom got through the pain by reading Erma Bomback rather than taking pain killers.  I played games on the computer and made my hair loss fun, I would pull it out in patters!  Taking focus off yourself and doing something makes it go faster, as with anything.  Don't internalize your feelings, seek support, you need it whether you know it or not.  Even if you don't want to talk to someone, being around someone helps!

Oh, and miracles really do happen!  Also, thank the person sitting in the hospital room with you, that is a boring job!

My story...by Wakako, Nashville, TN

I was a 36 years old just finishing up my grad school to advance my career when I was diagnosed with Breast cancer. It was also a day before my 5 year old son began his firsts day of kindergarten. With the help of family and friends, I was determined to do CANCER in style!  I have always tried to enjoy life and I just had to look at it that way especially when I had a 5 year old son and a wonderful husband whom I shared my wonderful life with.  Explaining things to a little one could be a challenge but it could also lift you up. My breast cancer showed me what a wonderful family and friends you are surrounded by and how much you are loved. The year with cancer slowed me down professionally but I was able to enjoy see the subtle change in my backyard that the change of season brings because I was home more. Each new branch or budding flowers kept me looking to the power of life and the true source of life. Cancer has taught me to cherish family and friends' and of course my own birthday in a special light. Each day is a gift and nothing else. In the midst of the cancer treatment, there was always a light in my home and in my heart even when my physical appearance may have had the tendency to pull me down. Losing hair, eye brows, eye lashes are not fun at all but you do get better at putting your make up on somehow to fake your lashes!!! So, hang on to your wonderful loved ones, friends, co-workers and even your child's classmates' moms that you have never met right along with you on your journey of cancer treatment, if that is where you are facing right now. That is what I had to do and I know they experienced it with me so I never felt alone. I met so many new friends THANKS to the experience of cancer. Hat off to all my friends and families who loved me enough to stand by me through it all. I could not have done it "positively pink" without them!  
***