In early October I received a text message from Aspirius  Health that it was time for my annual mammogram, the problem with this is that I haven’t had any breasts for over 25 years. It was a no-reply text so there was no one to vent to, but it did get me thinking about how Pink October is a hard month for lots of women. The support we give and receive from one another is crucial.

Twenty-five years ago, just before my bi-lateral mastectomy without any reconstruction I had a “kiss them goodbye” party.  Close friends were invited over for dinner, and the only instruction given to them was to bring a poem/ reading about breasts. The poems were funny and powerful like the one that said, “Three places you don’t want lumps: mash potatoes, gravy and your breasts.”

A few days before the party, my husband Tim and friend, Katie, helped me to make a plaster cast of my chest. As women arrived at the party I had paints, sparkles and other fun decorations out on the dining room table.  I invited folks to decorate the cast together. I love how it turned out.

My friend Amy made the great red heart. Amy would be at my first chemo appointment to bless the red devil (as that drug is not so fondly called) as it entered the port located near my heart. Her prayers in Hebrew gave me great comfort. She was there with my mom, husband and friend Susan. Susan was the one who got me an appointment with a surgeon after the mammogram showed nothing. Turns out lobular breast cancer doesn’t show up on mammograms. Her wise words were “if you can feel it, we need to biopsy it.”

So many people carried us through that year of surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. Food arrived with regularity at our home. We literally ate the prayers of so many folks. A friend continued to swim with me as we had for years even though I could barely make it 800 yards. And when my hair began to fall out, much to my surprise, one Sunday after worship over 35 people shaved their heads in solidarity with my new look. They also had hard boiled eggs for lunch that day and posters of Mr. Clean, “You’ve got the power to.”

Perhaps one of the greatest gifts of that time was when a friend Sarah offered to take our girls the day after my surgery. Maddie was 8 and Hannah was 4 back then. Sarah asked them to tell her in their own words what was going on in our family. She had paper and crafts supplies for them to use. She helped them to create a book entitled, “Our Mom Has Breast Cancer Too.”  One of my favorite quotes from their book is, “My mom found out from the tests that the cancer had not spread to her lungs! This was great news! I told her (that’s me Maddie speaking), that she would be “Breastless but not Breathless’.   This was the best news ever.”  And Hannah said to Sarah, “Well, we just get to hug her closer and feel her loving heart all the more.” 

The big red heart on the plaster cast still reminds me how lucky and loved I am. This past April I and my friend Paula flew to Los Angeles to be with Amy the painter of my red heart. She had learned that she had breast cancer too. We went to be with her for her surgery and the days that followed. When she was checking in the hospital registrar asked who was with her and she said, “My sisters.”  We were in so many ways. Paula also had had breast cancer.

A few months later, I would be offering a blessing over Amy’s chemotherapy. Not in Hebrew and over the phone but still we had a deep connection. “Steady Amy’s steps on this path. Bless the Taxol as it cleanses out any remaining cancer. You are her Strength and Hope, the Author of healing. . . . “

I am grateful for all my sisters on this journey, especially during Pink October. I never use survivor language when I speak of this part of my journey. I have too many people I love that did not survive. We are sisters.  And for all of them, including so many loving men, I am grateful.