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Posts with tag lump
Posted Aug 16th 2007 9:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Pink products, Cancer events, Products
I AM THE CURE is the Susan G. Komen new rallying cry. Intended to urge us to take an active role in our own breast health and remind us that we all play an important part in finding a cure, these are words to live by. I think I won't soon forget them -- because I have a new key chain inscribed with all four of them.
My aunt just participated in the Aspen Race for the Cure, and she sent me all the goodies she picked up at the race. She gave me the
Ford Warriors in Pink scarf -- I've always wanted one and can't wait to wear it on October 20 when I run in my local
Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event. She also passed on to me a race t-shirt, the sign she wore on her back --
in celebration of my beautiful niece Jacki, it read -- and pink ribbon magnets, sunscreen, a Warriors in Pink temporary tattoo, and all sorts of other little trinkets. The key chain was one of them.
My new key chain features four different sized pink metal circles, each one dangling from the key ring. On each circle, there is one word. From the smallest circle to the largest, the words I -- AM -- THE -- CURE appear. All on their own, these circles are pretty powerful. But there's more. On an insert that came with the key chain is an explanation for each circle.
Continue reading I AM THE CURE is new Susan G. Komen battle cry
Posted Aug 10th 2007 7:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Television, Celebrity news, Surgery
If you plan to tune in to
Good Morning America on Monday, you'll see Robin Roberts looking back at you. The co-anchor, 46, expects to back at work on August 13, just 10 days after surgery for breast cancer.
Roberts, who was just recently diagnosed with breast cancer after finding a lump during a self-exam, is still waiting for the test results that will determine her course of therapy. Right now, though, she feels great and looks forward to returning to work alongside Diane Sawyer.
Posted Aug 6th 2007 1:30PM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Celebrity cancer diagnosis, Television, Daily news, Surgery
ABC's
Good Morning America co-anchor Robin Roberts is at home resting after a successful surgery for breast cancer. Pathology reports will take some time to pocess, but when more information is available, the public will be updated, says a
Good Morning America spokesperson.
Roberts, 46, told her story recently in an e-mail.
I never thought I'd be writing this. ... I have breast cancer," writes Roberts.
Continue reading Breast cancer surgery a success for ABC's Robin Roberts
Posted Jun 10th 2007 10:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Melanoma, Blogs
Sarah has been blogging about her battle with melanoma since May 2006. She begins with a post titled
Something About Sarah where she chronicles the series of events leading up to her diagnosis.
July 2004
Have a bit of pain in right arm. Feels like "10 bees stinging me at once" deep inside my arm. Thought I pulled something at gym.August 2004Still have same occasional pain but not worried in the least. I'm enjoying my summer and playing soccer. Have tons of energy, working full time and going to school. Moving at end of August.Continue reading Melanoma claiming the life of Sarah
Posted Apr 29th 2007 9:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Lung Cancer, Daily news, Thought for the Day
There's so much more to life than money. At the same time, the daily grind definitely depends some on this coveted staple. For one man, whose life did depend on money, it could have been everything. But it wasn't.
Think about this:
Wayne Schenk won $1 million in the New York lottery on January 12 after purchasing a $5 scratch-off ticket. His jackpot win came just five weeks after his diagnosis of inoperable lung cancer was delivered. His one wish: to receive a lump sum so he could receive specialized treatment for his advanced disease.
Lottery officials claim they were sympathetic but just couldn't give him a lump sum. The best they could do was issue him $50,000 annual installments for 20 years.
Schenk, 51, only survived for a little more than one year. He died on April 23 at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Syracuse. At the time of his death, he had received just $34,000.
So money isn't everything. But could it have been?
Posted Apr 23rd 2007 9:30PM by Vicki Blankenship
Filed under: Prostate Cancer, Prevention
A reader posted a comment on one of my blogs and asked "What tests positively determines prostate cancer?" It prompted me to do a little research. 80 percent of men over 70 years old will get prostate cancer. That is a devastating statistic. A lot of times in the medical field diagnosing something requires a multitude of tests to rule out things and to get a better diagnosis. Such is the case for prostate cancer.
There are several tests used to diagnose prostate cancer. Blood tests, rectal exams, rectal ultrasounds, needle biopsy, and cystoscopy. A high level of PSA in the blood can be a sign of prostate cancer. PSA is a protein produced by cancerous prostate cells. With a rectal exam your doctor can feel for lumpy or a hard prostate. If a lump or hardening is found then most often they will do a needle biopsy to examine under a microscope. A
cystoscopy is an examination of your bladder and uretha but can help determine several types of cancer and not just bladder cancer.
With all kinds of cancer, it is important to stay up to date with yearly exams for prevention. I hope this information helps.
Posted Mar 28th 2007 9:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Prevention, Daily news, Thought for the Day
More than 200,000 American women are diagnosed with breast cancer every year. And about six percent of all invasive breast cancer cases involve a condition called inflammatory breast cancer (IBC), the most aggressive and often undiagnosed form of the disease.
IBC does not present itself in the form of a lump or mass and is typically not detected by self-examination, mammogram, or ultrasound.
IBC is a misunderstood disease. But if women learn to recognize some of the symptoms, there is a better chance for better diagnosis, treatment, and survival.
Think about this, a list of early symptoms of IBC:
• One breast rapidly becomes larger than the other
• Breast has a rash, redness, or blotchiness
• Breast and/or nipple persistently itches
• Breast tissue thickens or feels lumpy
• Breast becomes sore with sharp pains
• Breast is warm to the touch or feverish
• Lymph nodes under the arm or above the collarbone become swollen
• Breast dimples and may look like the skin of an orange
• Nipple retracts or flattens
• Color of the areola (the dark skin around the nipple) changes
Contact your doctor immediately if you detect any of these symptoms.Posted Mar 10th 2007 9:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, All Cancers, Opinion, Magazines, Thought for the Day
My gut hasn't always guided me through life's most difficult decisions and dilemmas. It wasn't until I felt a lump in my breast more than two years ago that my gut kicked into gear and told me something very important.
"It's cancer," my insides told me one week before the surgeon who did my biopsy called.
"It's cancer," the surgeon said. I didn't tell him, but I thought it: "I know."
I also knew prior to surgery that my cancer had not spread to my lymph nodes. My gut told me this too. It also told me the chemotherapy drug Taxol was not right for me -- since my cancer had not spread -- despite the urging of one oncologist that I accept this treatment. I would have gone on gut instinct alone in my rejection of this medication but another doctor weighed in and agreed with my gut, so I had solid backing on this decision.
Many have dismissed hunches like these and have written off those who believe in them as screwballs, says writer Chip Brown in the March 2007 issue of
The Oprah Magazine. But as Brown shares after peering into the world of gut instinct, there are 100 million nerve cells in the gut. They run on autopilot, regulate digestion, play a critical role in the body's immune system, and control mood-altering neurotransmitters identical to those in the brain.
The gut is essentially a second brain. It was a "gut feeling" that led Fred Smith, founder of Federal Express, to begin exploring the possibilities of overnight delivery and Howard Schultz, founder of Starbucks, to begin mass marketing coffee. Wall Street professionals make millions on their gut feelings, sportscasters make startling predictions based on gut guidance, and entrepreneurs launch thriving businesses because of the inklings that rumble in their tummies.
You may or may not be a gut thinker yourself. But I've stumbled upon a gut exercise -- thanks to psychotherapist Nancy Napier --and I'd like for you to consider it the next time you find yourself stuck at a crossroads, unsure of where to turn. You never know, the direction you seek may be swirling around in your midsection, just waiting for a call to action.
Think about this:
You are wavering between two choices. Find yourself a quiet, serene place where there will be no disruptions. Now sit down. Take a moment to settle and focus on the issue you want to explore. Then choose one side. Think about this side and notice what happens in your gut. Do you feel a tightening and gripping or a softening and warming? Are the sensations pleasant or uncomfortable? Notice your thoughts. Are they positive or negative? Give yourself some time to feel your gut and your mind responding.
Now shift to the other side. Think about the previous questions, and try to chart what your body gut is saying.
While you may not get a gut answer at first, if you come back with the question several times, you'll likely hear just what your gut wants you to know.
Posted Feb 21st 2007 12:55AM by Vicki Blankenship
Filed under: Esophageal Cancer, Throat Cancer, Research, Smoking, Daily news
The U.S. government's Institute of Medicine reported that asbestos, which is accepted as a cause of a number of respiratory ailments including lung cancer, may also be a source for laryngeal cancer. The larynx produces the sound of your voice. Each year in the United States, more than 10,000 people learn they have larynx cancer. Men are four times more likely than women to get cancer of the larynx. Occupational related issues are certainly a factor with mechanics, construction, and other jobs that handle asbestos.
A series of studies have found that certain cancers of the throat and lungs are similar, so the U.S. Senate asked the institute to investigate a potential link between asbestos and other upper-body cancers. Asbestos is also linked to mesothelioma which is a rare cancer that attacks the lining of the chest.
Smokers and smokers that drink alcohol are even more at risk to develop cancer of the larynx. Symptoms of larynx cancer are hoarseness or other voice changes,lump in the neck, a sore throat or feeling that something is stuck in your throat, a cough that does not go away, breathing problems, bad breath, earaches, and weight loss.
Posted Dec 20th 2006 9:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Testicular Cancer, Daily news
Bruins rookie Phil Kessel is surviving testicular cancer. And the 19-year-old former University of Minnesota player, drafted in the first round this year, is talking about his shocking diagnosis and the surgery from which he is currently recovering.
Kessel, who is expected to rest for two weeks before returning to the ice, found a lump in his testicle and went immediately to his team internist, Dr. David Judge. Judge examined him, referred him for an ultrasound, and learned with Kessel that the lump was in fact cancer -- embryonal testicular cancer.
Both Judge and Kessel are happy to report that the cancer was localized to the right testicle -- which was removed during surgery -- and had not spread. Kessel, therefore, has a very low liklihood of recurrence.
Kessel, who has five goals and four assists in 27 games this season, says about his diagnosis, "I couldn't believe it. It was tough. I had a hard time with it."
Kessel thinks cancer will help him gain perspective on life. And he plans to speak out about his experience so others may benefit.
"If you're not feeling well go get checked out and make sure you're all right," he says. Getting checked out is what saved him -- and he hopes others will follow suit.
Kessel is the second Boston athlete to be diagnosed with cancer this year. Red Sox left-hander Jon Lester was diagnosed with lymphoma in August. With chemotherapy behind him, he is currently cancer-free. And so is Kessel.
Posted Nov 25th 2006 10:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Prevention
The doctor who recently read my mammogram films and maneuvered her ultrasound wand over every inch of my breasts could not find one darn thing wrong with anything in her view. I wasn't worried that she would -- but it's still a relief to know that for now, I am fine.
It was two years ago, November 19, when this exact doctor sent me for a biopsy of a mass her same ultrasound wand detected. She did not know at the time the mass was a cancerous tumor, but she did know it was suspicious enough for further investigation. And so she sent me on my worried way, and the result of my biopsy -- cancer -- cemented our life-long relationship as doctor and patient.
Every six months I see this doctor for a mammogram and ultrasound. And when I find myself freaking out about something breast-related, I call her and she fits me into her busy schedule. I know she is there for me when I need her. And she knows I will always be there for her -- every six months and sometimes in between.
While I really like my doctor, I do hope I don't see her until May 15 when I report for my next mammogram appointment -- because with our kind of relationship, less is truly more.
Posted Nov 24th 2006 10:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Cancer Survivors
I never got a chance to call for the results of my breast biopsy the day after it was performed -- because my phone rang hours before I was told to inquire about the pathology of my lump. That one phone call changed everything. Forever.
November 2004
The next day, November 24 and the day before Thanksgiving, my phone rang at 10:00 AM and the doctor who did the biopsy said the pathology report was back already. He said that unfortunately, cancer cells were found. He said I would need a lumpectomy (surgery to remove the lump), radiation, and possibly chemotherapy. He told me to buy a book called Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book. I got the book that day.
Somehow, I made it though the Thanksgiving weekend, with my thoughts jumping from the hope that this would turn out okay to the fear that I would not see my boys grow up. My mind wandered and worried about surgery and what treatments I would have. I wondered if I could have more kids and whether or not I would lose my hair. I cried and lost sleep and was hopeful too.
I learned a lot from reading my new book. I learned that many women do go on to have kids after cancer but I also learned that chemotherapy in young women can cause early menopause. I learned that I have an 85 percent survival rate and also that I will get tiny little tattoos surrounding my breast to aid in the proper delivery of radiation. These permanent tattoos will also alert any future doctors that my breast has had radiation because I can never have it again in that same area. The book helped me feel positive about this journey but it also helped me face reality.
I have since faced reality. And now I am surviving the reality of breast cancer. Following my diagnosis, I endured a lumpectomy, four rounds of dose-dense chemotherapy, more than six weeks of radiation, and one year of Herceptin treatment. Through it all, I learned that I am okay, that I will likely see my boys grow up, that my early menopause was only temporary, that I am physically able to have more children, that I did in fact lose my hair, that my 10 tiny tattoos are so small I can barely see them, that my survival rate is much higher than 85 percent.
I knew I had breast cancer the day I detected a lump in my breast. It just took eight days to confirm my suspicion. And now it's been two years. I have survived for two years.
Posted Nov 23rd 2006 10:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Cancer Survivors
I think I was the only one who truly believed the lump in my breast was cancer. No one else -- my mom, my sister, my husband, my doctors -- believed I was a candidate for this disease. I was young, had no family history, had no known risk factors. It just wasn't likely, even after an ultrasound revealed something suspicious.
The surgeon who performed my biopsy was in the same camp. It was probably nothing.
November 2004
On November 23, I had a biopsy. A large needle was placed in my breast and a piece of the lump was pulled out. The doctor had a hard time getting a piece, however, because it moved around so much. He said this was a good sign -- the movement. He sent the tissue to pathology and told me to call his office the next afternoon for the results.
Posted Nov 18th 2006 10:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Cancer Survivors
The opinion was overwhelming. I was too young for breast cancer. I heard it time and time again before my diagnosis and while it was mildly comforting to know that women in their early 30s -- like me -- rarely develop breast cancer, a sensation deep in my gut told me I was headed for something that defied statistics.
Two years ago -- on November 18 and 19 -- the clues concerning the lump in my breast were stacking up. At the time, the odds were in my favor -- despite the sinking feeling that sat in the pit of my stomach.
November 2004
I went to my OB/GYN on November 18. My doctor felt the lump but was confident it was nothing to worry about. It moved around easily, there was no discharge from my nipple, I did not feel any pain -- all signs that it was benign. But it's routine to get a mammogram for any mass so I got one the next day.
I was the youngest person waiting to get my mammogram, another sign that this lump was nothing serious because it is not common for young women to have breast cancer. Mammograms are not even recommended for women under the age of 40. I am 34. The mammogram films looked okay and the technician told me the doctor would talk to me but that she was not worried about anything. This was true but she did an ultrasound anyway to look further at the lump.
She determined it was not a cyst, which is fairly common, and nothing serious. It could be a fibroma (a common growth that can be removed or left in place without harm) or it could be cancer. She said she wanted me to have the lump removed. She wanted it out and "in a jar," she said. I asked her if it could be cancer and she said it could be.
Posted Nov 17th 2006 10:00AM by Jacki Donaldson
Filed under: Breast Cancer, Prevention, Cancer Survivors
"I have a mammogram on Friday," I told my husband just two days before the test I will receive every six months for the rest of my life. The test I should not have even needed for another four years, when I hit the age of 40. The test that helped find a cancerous lump in my breast two years ago and will hopefully catch any future lumps in enough time to save my life.
The mammogram. It's a big test that hinges on one moment of disclosure from the technician who performs the procedure. The disclosure --
everything is fine or
the doctor would like to see you -- predicts whether or not life goes on normally or is derailed by uncertainty. Mammograms are a big deal.
"Are you worried?" my husband asked after my announcement. I thought for a moment and then replied, "No."
For some reason, I am not worried about this mammogram. Perhaps it's because I am monitored so regularly by the medical establishment and I'm confident anything suspicious in my breasts will be caught early and treated successfully. Perhaps the routine of it all makes mammograms not so eventful anymore. Maybe I'm just coping better with the seriousness of it all, and mammograms have become one more mundane appointment that requires my presence.
It doesn't matter really. What matters is that I am calm about my mammogram, that I am not giving it serious thought, that I am free of anxiety.
What matters is that I am not worried.
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