My Pink Ribbon

Originally published in the Oct. 11 issue of The Centre County Gazette
By Marjorie Miller

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in April of 2011, the only risk factor I had was that I was a woman. I was healthy, breast cancer wasn't known to run in my family, and I wasn't over 50. In fact, I was only 26 and I had gotten engaged just two months earlier.
All of my wedding planning and pre-wedding parties and events were intertwined with my breast cancer journey, from my bridal showers and bachelorette weekend to picking out my dress. Between the place cards, food tasting and dress fittings I was getting biopsies and MRIs and having surgery. I have yet to discover a word that can adequately describe what it’s like to plan a wedding you’re not sure you’re going to have. Devastating? Disheartening? All I wanted was for my wedding to be perfect, and for me to feel and look perfect. And you know what? It was and I did.
Dealing with breast cancer while planning my wedding brought out the strongest parts of me. I had to look deep down and decide that what my physical body looked like didn’t matter, as long as I got married to the one man who is most important to me in this whole world. The breast cancer and all of the pain and agony that came with it didn’t get to be more important than my wedding and my future. And I walked down that aisle on March 31, 2012, and had the most beautiful wedding I could have ever dreamed of. And on that day the breast cancer seemed so small compared to the overwhelming love of my family and friends, and the laughter and dancing, and all the pink roses and pearls.
I am so lucky and blessed to say that six surgeries and a year and a half later, my breast cancer is gone and my reconstruction is complete, just in time for my second Breast Cancer Awareness Month as a survivor. But I lost both my breasts in the process. And the scars on my body are not nearly as deep as the ones on my heart.
The road that has led me to where I am today has been a hard one, and it still is. Every day I have to fight through pain and discomfort and teach myself new ways to do things I used to take for granted, like sleeping and getting into my car. My life will never be the same because of the breast cancer, but I've been doing everything in my power, and using all of my strength, to believe it is better because of all this.
Since my diagnosis I accomplished more in my life than I ever thought possible: I planned a wedding, got married, ran four 5Ks, honeymooned in Paris and Italy, got a puppy, told my story in front of an audience through The Moth, joined the Pink Zone committee as a volunteer, got recognized for my story by the Lifetime Movie Network, and experienced other milestones and things I'm proud of. It's true: today I'm stronger, happier and healthier than I've ever been, and it's because I have such a phenomenal support system. My husband, friends and family give me wings to fly every day, and because of them I am the luckiest woman in the world.
It’s easy to type out the words, and maybe even to say out loud, that the breast cancer has made me a stronger, better person. And I do believe that. But the truth is, I work to believe that every day. Every day is a battle to understand why this happened to me and what it all means.
I started writing and talking about my experiences to help raise awareness for young women and breast cancer, and to connect with other young women who had gone through what I went through. Young women can and do get breast cancer, and it’s important that they know they are not alone, whether they’re in college, planning a wedding or just starting a family. It’s also important to understand that early detection can and does save lives. Women my age don’t get mammograms. Their doctors don’t even talk about mammograms. So if I had not learned early on the importance of self exams and what changes to look for, I truly believe I would have found my breast cancer a lot later, or not at all. Because I found it when I did, I saved myself chemotherapy and radiation. And although six surgeries was, and is not easy in the least, it could have been a lot worse. And I think about that every day.
My breast surgeon saved my life, and my plastic surgeon gave me my body and quality of life back. And my friends and family are my cheerleaders who support me and give me strength every day. I have the most amazing people in my life, and every day I am surrounded by such love and compassion. I feel like I have the strength of 1 million people behind me, guiding me and picking me up. I want to help give that to other women. I want to tell them they are not alone and it’s OK to be scared. And for them to see: not what the breast cancer took from them, but rather what it gave them.
Both unfortunately and fortunately, there are a lot of breast cancer survivors. It’s unfortunate that this devastating disease has affected so many women and their families, but it’s fortunate that they are survivors. I know there is a lot of talk surrounding Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and with all the pink ribbons and hype it can be easy to feel lost. Where do I, as a survivor, fit into this? While I want to participate in the walks and bike rides and give money to research and services, my most important mission is to tell my story. When I read about or meet other survivors I feel empowered. They are beautiful, strong women. They are living life the best they possibly can. And that makes me want to do more, be better. It makes me feel strong, too. And that’s what Breast Cancer Awareness Month means to me. Reaching out in the best ways we know how.
My ribbon is my story. And I’m passing it along.
Marjorie S. Miller is a breast cancer survivor and staff writer for The Centre County Gazette. Email her at mmiller@centrecountygazette.com.