For the love of BEER BOOBS!

Getting a boost from my family at the hospital! My mom took this photo and carried the brunt of taking care of the kids for the last two weeks of school. I can never thank her enough!

Do you ever feel like the Universe is conking you over the head trying to teach you the most important of life’s lessons? Well, I must have a thick skull because the Universe came whack-a-moling my way again! I’ve had the trifecta of death scrapes...Cancer, being stuck by lightening, and now one of those antibiotic-resistant, scary-as-hell, hospital-borne bacteria that have their way with your body. WTH?!?! What lesson am I missing, I wonder. I know all about how precious every moment we have here on this earth is. I know about enjoying life with your family and friends and raising your kids right, and just loving them. And don’t ever use the phrase “It’s not personal,” because gosh darnit, YES it is personal. We are human beings and being personal is what makes us who we are as a species. It is difficult to live by these codes every single moment because sometimes you just have to be a hard ass (that doesn’t mean it’s ok to be cruel) or get some shit done, but when I can, I try to live up to the secrets of life I thought I felt in tune with after my first two major death-defying life experiences.

But here I am, rubbing my head again and wondering what in the world am I missing. What an interesting journey I’ve been on since May 17 all stemming from Breast Cancer...the gift that keeps on giving. May 17th is the day I went in for a “re-reconstruction.” And here’s where I flashback like SNL’s Wayne and Garth, so put your hands up and wave them around with me (WOOLOOLOOLOO):

In January 2014, I wrote a blog post called “Never Say Never” (http://breastofbothworlds.blogspot.com/2014/01/never-say-never.html?m=1) in which I enumerated several big “NEVERS” I swore I would not renege on but later had to eat my own words. One was that I would NEVER get breast IMPLANTS and the other is that I would NEVER get a TATTOO. Turns out I should have stuck to my guns on both those items.

The breast implants were not the right choice for me. They were hard and unyielding. They stretched my pectoral muscles unnaturally over the implants and made it painful to do the things I loved the most like tennis, golf, swimming, and resistance work. Before I had that procedure, my plastic surgeon in Kentucky assured me the implants and stretched pectorals would have no impact on my favorite activities. The healthcare field is finding this is not the case at all and that very active women who chose silicone implant reconstruction need to be aware of the limitations this reconstruction can cause in some cases. This tightness made my chest hurt all the time and I dared not breathe too deeply. Not to mention, aesthetically, the reconstruction was sub-par...I even had a third mini-boob. I could never wear a sheer top for all the lumps and bumps and scars on those babies. They held up a tshirt OK, but they just didn’t even look like breasts underneath the shirt. None of the doctors I had seen since were happy with the results which solidified my feelings that I could not live with those awful things for long. The nipple tattoos never fully took on the thin, traumatized skin and I was missing large pieces of the pie. And I won’t even start about the Auxiliary Webbing or “cording” other than to offer a brief explanation for others going through this: with so much trauma from the mastectomy, lymph node removal, radiation and the presence of a man-made product placed in my chest: actual cords of protest grew from the implants all the way down to my wrists at times with tiny tendrils that would anchor in my blood vessels all the length. It took countless and extremely painful sessions over two years to break them up and keep them at bay as much as possible. I felt like a puppet with these cords running down my arms and when we would break them up, I’d have trails of blood dots down my arms where the vessels ruptured.

So, in short for me, IMPLANTS=BAD...of course this was my experience. So many other women have perfectly fine results but my body does not like silicone or any other foreign objects riveted into my chest.

Snap back to Wednesday, May 17, 2017, the day of my re-reconstruction at the gorgeous UT Southwestern Clements Hospital in Dallas. It was an extremely complicated and tough surgery that took somewhere around 10 hours. During this time, an entire team of surgeons and residents removed the implants, harvested tissue and blood supply from my abdomen, and crafted a new set of ta-tas micro-surgically out of my very own self. My doctor said the procedure would take 24 hours for him to do on his own so they have to perform it with a team. I was glad there was finally a good use for that “extra belly structure” I have always had since the day I was born no matter what level of fitness I happened to be at (by the way, thanks everyone who generously offered to donate to the cause!). I made it through the surgery fine and remained in the ICU for the next two days to closely monitor the blood flow they meticulously constructed in my new breasts and watch for clots. I had four drain lines coming out of my body which I also needed help tending to until I was more mobile. To be honest, I don’t remember any of that time. Friday they moved me to a regular room because all looked well. Saturday they sent me home even though I truly didn’t feel like I was coherent enough to take care of myself, still, I wanted to get home to see my kids.

By the next day, I knew something was afoot. My throat hurt much worse than just the typical scratchiness of being intubated and I could do very little other than sleep due to the dizziness and nausea. By Monday morning, my throat looked like nothing I’ve ever seen before in all my years of looking at my sick childrens’ throats and I felt worse overall, not better. Not to mention, one of my drain lines looked like it was becoming infected. I almost fainted in the shower and had to muster every bit of strength to keep my legs under me. I was not going to have an emergency team pull me out of the shower. My dignity has taken many blows but I was not willing to let that happen, and I was NOT going to stress my mom out like that who was the only one home with me at the time. I saw my doctor’s nurse the next day and she noticed the abdominal incision that goes from hip to hip was turning red. She prescribed relatively strong antibiotics and sent me home until my doctor’s follow-up appointment on Thursday. Certainly, the antibiotics would do the trick and I’d feel better when I came back just two days later. That didn’t happen and I continued to slide. Everything got worse. We agreed I needed to be admitted back into the hospital and find out what was going on. By then all I could really do is sit with my eyes closed, and I could feel myself slipping into a place I was not about to go willingly. I was never so happy to be in a hospital bed.

I needed IV antibiotics and fluid STAT. I was severely dehydrated and was down 20 pounds from just a week ago. All the water I had been drinking at home was ineffective in staying hydrated because my body just wasn’t absorbing it. Now the problem was that there were no veins to put an IV in. The only small ones I had were tapped too many times that day for blood draws and they were too small anyway for the caustic antibiotic they were attempting to give me. My entire left arm is off limits because of the cancerous lymph node removal I had in 2014 which caused lymphedema so that removes IV options all the more. Three nurses each tried twice to start an IV but to no avail. They finally called in their VAT team that uses a sonogram to find deeper veins. The first found nothing and deferred later to another team. They finally found one deep in my upper arm. It took 8 hours from the time I was admitted until they could finally start to pump the antibiotics and fluids into me. I was told that night, the hospital changed their VAT procedures because of the unacceptable delay and 12 sticks over the course of 8 hours is just too much for anyone to endure.

All should have been well at that point and I should have started feeling better. But I only got worse and the infection started to spread along the entire abdominal incision. I  was leaking like a human sprinkler out of the holes in my hip where then infected drain lines had been removed and also all along the incision. This is when it started getting dicey for the next two days. The Infections Disease Team (ID) was called in to take over the administration of the antibiotics. The caustic Vancomycin had no effect on the infection and only caused me to blow out three veins meaning more late night VAT team visits and even an ER visit to place more deep IV lines.

That meant the two antibiotics I had taken that should have dealt with the infection handily had failed. I have been allergic to penicillin all my life as my mother was before me and as are all my kids. No one dares prescribe me penicillin-based antibiotics, but the ID team felt the two penicillin-family antibiotics I had to have to fight the infection were enough generations away from the original penicillin that it was worth the risk of an allergic reaction. Thank goodness they made the right call. I was watched like a hawk during those first infusions and given Benedryl to help counteract any mild reactions. It still took three more days to start seeing improvement partly because I had some overzealous taping nurses who put copious amounts of tape all over my infected skin to hold gauze in place to catch all the leaks I had sprung. The constant ripping of tape on that red and angry skin just traumatized the area all the more and helped it spread beyond the incision area. My family and friends were worried sick, and I have to admit this one scared me, as well. I had been admitted on a Thursday and it wasn’t until the next Tuesday that I started feeling a bit better and the infection started heading in the right direction. They let me out of the hospital on that next Thursday when I was up moving around pretty good, cleaning my room with sterilizing wipes, walking as far away as I could get outside the hospital, and MacGyvering things I needed out of limited hospital resources...like a new system of abdominal dressing that requires no tape and that I could change myself, a mini cooler made out of styrofoam cups and tape to keep my protein shakes cold that I was supposed to be pounding all day, and other fun ideas that kept my brain turning once I got to feeling better. My kids, my mom and Scott all came up for a visit on the weekend I was there, but I missed them all terribly and it was time to get home.

The ID team never got the uncompromised bacterial culture they wanted but they felt I was dealing with both a staph and a strep infection and it would be a long road until I am fully out from underneath them. They will be watching me very closely for the next month as I continue an oral form of one of the penicillin-based antibiotics I had in the hospital. My doctor says it will be four months before I feel really good...I’m looking to cut that timeline at least in half!

In the end, my ego is not inflated enough to believe the Universe is trying to tell me something in particular. Life continues to be good to me, and I am beyond thankful for the gifts I have been afforded. There are so many more people in this world who are facing challenges I cannot even fathom. They do not have the support or resources I have been afforded. I truly have the best family and friends to share this life’s journey with, and I could feel all those strong good vibes, prayers and well wishes you’ve been sending my way lifting me once again. Many do not live in the United States where we have so many freedoms, privileges, resources and healthcare insurance options available to us that even some of our own citizens cannot understand how protected and fortunate they are to be a part of our great country.

I will continue to take the conks on the head that life tends to throw the way of every living, breathing human being and try to become a better person for having dealt with the adversity. I know that in the percentages game, I tend to run on the shy side of the statistics so it’s no longer a surprise when the improbable happens. Every time I have faced something difficult, I come out on the other side with a greater life lesson learned that makes me see how precious our days are. There are almost always bonuses if you’re able to make it through. This time, I get to live out my days with a comfortable set of mighty fine-shaped boobs...or at least I will after the next two required rounds of surgery to complete them. Once that’s done, I will never have to have surgery on them again. Even beyond that, since they are made of my own skin, fat, vessels and tissue, they will grow and contract like a real set of ta-tas are supposed to as my weight fluctuates. That means, instead of getting a beer belly from enjoying our awesome, local, hand-crafted Shannon brewery around the corner, I will get beer boobs and, gosh, I think that’s a pretty cool thing.

Ironic that as I'm healing from my beer boobs debacle, one of my hospital rooms overlooked the Dallas Budweiser Distribution Center.

P.S. I can't let this opportunity to go by without thanking my amazing new tribe of neighbors who we are so blessed to have found in Keller. In alpha order, THANK YOU the Garbers, the Mitrys, the Simontons and the Terrells for taxiing the kids to and from school, making meals, delivering donuts, and checking in on my sweet mom to make sure she had all the support she needed while I was in and out of the hospital. I love you all dearly! Garbers, we miss you already but know you will have such fantastic adventures in Salt Lake City.

P.S.S. If you've made it this far, congratulations and thank you for listening to all that tedious detail. It always helps me process what's going on in this world, when I can write about it...and I haven't written in a very long time. Facebook can be both a blessing and a curse sometimes, but on days like today, it reminds me of how far I have come. This photo was taken 3 years ago on this day and appeared on Facebook today as a memory. Seeing it brings back so many emotions and thoughts for me.

Do you wanna feel a snowball?

So, one of my besties and neighbor, Carrie Howell, recently shared with us some dessert treats her husband brought home from work. We all know what a snowball is, right? (reference photo at the left) Well, my kids have managed to go through all their years without even the slightest introduction to this staple in the realm of packaged cake treats. The pink coconut dusting on the outside had the kids baffled and reluctant to try it, so I decided to quarter it up so they could each try a small sample. As I placed my fingers gingerly around the buoyant marshmallow shell, it felt so strangely familiar...like something I feel every day but I couldn't place at first. Hmmm, soft and spongy at first touch, but press a bit harder and you'll find a curiously unyielding core. Then it hit me...holy crap, my new titties feel just like TastyKake Snowball treats! So, if you are even remotely curious about what it feels like to have breast reconstruction with silicone gel implants, all you have to do is peruse the snack aisle of your local grocery store or gas station. Cop a cheap feel on a not-so-fresh package of snowballs and you'll have some idea what it's like having these things clinging to my chest. Yes, they have softened to some degree, but they are still nowhere near as pillowy and supple as the boobies I grew myself.

While I'm on a roll comparing my chest jewels to sweet treats, here's another serving of TMI for you to ponder as you kick off your weekend. I am a quarter of a nipple away from being done with the reconstruction process! I know I have not blogged for an unbelievable 6 months now (where the hell did that time go?!?!?), but one of the many things that has happened in that time is I had my first go-round of nipple tattooing back in December. Funny thing is that the top right quadrant of my left nipple didn't cooperate and the tattooing sloughed off. It's looks like someone stole a piece of nipple pie. Not to worry, it shall all be restored next Wednesday when I go back for my second and final date with the tattoo needle. Once I'm fully nipplized (yeah, I just made a new word), that will leave me with only quarterly oncologist checkups for now...unless I chose to address the unfortunate extra mini-boob I got out of the deal. No, I didn't  even request the "three-for-two" special.

Cheers and be sure to nibble some pie and cake this weekend...I did say "nibble" not "nipple." I hope I didn't ruin it for you!

Amazing Kids!

Just before we headed to Texas for the summer, I wrote a post about my daughter, Katie, donating lemonade stand money to Chicks and Chucks. Well, she wasn't the only one! After we left, my dear friends' kids who also took part in the neighborhood lemonade stand went for a visit to see Cathy Halloran at the boutique to donate their earnings to Chicks and Chucks as well! I am simply bursting with pride to see Whitney, Natalie, Ava and Henry opening up their generous little hearts to donate their hard-earned money to a breast cancer support charity so near and dear to my heart. Some even dipped into their own piggy banks to give a little extra. If this doesn't warm you heart, I don't know what will. I was so thankful Carrie captured the moment on video which I will post below. These kids are all amazing, and I love them all so very much! If you have trouble viewing the embedded video (which I did on my mobile devices), here is a link to the video on YouTube: http://youtu.be/uLu2yoVC1Ks.

Ava, Whitney, Natalie and Henry, YOU ROCK!!!

I left my lady parts deep in the heart of Texas

If this post goes live, it means my next surgery is over, and I am well enough to hit the "publish" button! It's no secret that my summer vacation in Texas consists of a total robotic hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oopherectomy (sounds like something out of a Dr. Seuss poem). I know how to live life on the edge, right?!?! What can I say, my bucket list looks vastly different post cancer diagnosis. Check that one off...I've left the rest of my lady parts deep in the heart of Texas.

Why, you may ask, have I chosen to spend my summer vacay having a hysterectomy? The answer is I've got lots of help with the kids while amongst family in Texas. Plus, my OB/Gyn, Dr. Allyson Patronella, practices here and I've been seeing her for around 20 years. When it comes to some things, I am a creature of habit. She helped me through the birth of three healthy, wonderful children and is a kind and skilled doctor. I wouldn't want to go to anyone else. These are my emotional reasons for dispensing with the lady parts here and now.

The medical reasons are also important. Having estrogen and progesterone positive cancer means those hormones are the enemy. Getting rid of the ovaries reduces estrogen and progesterone production as much as possible. I have also been taking Tamoxifen to block estrogen. Tamoxifen happens to increase the chance for uterine cancer. Having the CHEK2 gene mutation also increases the risk for a host of other cancers, so I am happy to eliminate a few more targets for recurrence of the breast cancer as well as for potential future cancers. My aunt, who also carries the same CHEK2 gene mutation in her bloodline, has had both breast and cervical cancer so why not get rid of that darn cervix, too, before it can cause problems. 

It took an at-the-buzzer Herculean effort by all my dear doctors, Dr. Patronella, Dr. Flora and Dr. Murley's office to get this surgery done. The afternoon before I was due at the hospital, I was informed the insurance company would not approve the hysterectomy. With swift and decisive fact presentation, my doctors were able to get an unusually fast reversal of the insurance company's decision. Again, I can't thank them all enough. I owe a huge debt to my phenomenal medical team. 

RADIATION

I never had a chance to note my enthusiasm about finishing up 25 rounds of radiation treatment on June 19! It all went by so quickly. I thought of that time laying out on the machine getting zapped as my personal "meditation" time. The folks at OHC whom I worked with each day were simply a joy which made it a very positive experience. My body reacted well and I walked away with only a few burn areas around my collarbone. I will soon be fully healed from the radiation which was the last major leg of what I hope is my Triple Crown Cure: chemo, surgery, then radiation.

 I had plenty of help celebrating the end of radiation with this amazing group of ladies. Too funny that the Uniboober got photo bombed!

MY FELLOW FIGHTERS

Cousin Jeanne is doing well following her bilateral mastectomy. She did have to go back into surgery twice to correct some bleeding issues. She is now free of her drain lines and sounds in good spirits. I continue to hope her family finds strength and faith to handle all the ups and downs breast cancer imposes on all loved ones.

My dear friend Penny Davis Meek has also had her family turned upside down by breast cancer. Her mom, Sharon, was recently diagnosed with this terrible disease.  Further testing revealed it had already metastasized in her bones. The Davis family is a pillar of the Richmond/Rosenberg community and are much loved and revered.  My heart aches for them as I know a bit about what the days ahead may look and feel like. Please hold them in your thoughts. They are a strong, loving family who will give each other the strength they need with the help of all their friends and community. My love goes out to you all, and I am here for you always. 

HOME SWEET HOME

I posted this photo on Facebook, but I'm putting it here as well. It was so wonderful to be reunited with my family. When my brother first laid eyes on me and my new crop of hair, he said, "Awh, I always wanted a little brother!" Leave it to Stefan! That's why I love him. My sister, Heather, has been a great help with the kids as I run around visiting doctors and hospitals. Family is precious.

My brother, my sister and the little brother Stefan always wanted!

Way to go, Katie, for turning lemons into lemonade!

Katie and Cathy Halloran

This past weekend during the Parlor Grove garage sale, some of the neighbor girls got together and ran a lemonade and cookie stand. My daughter, Katie, knew when they hatched this plan that she wanted to donate her portion of the proceeds to a breast cancer charity. Today, she did just that! She turned her money over to Cathy Halloran who founded Chicks and Chucks, a breast cancer support charity organization. Cathy has done so much to help me and so many other women from Northern Kentucky who are facing this disease. She is the funniest woman with no titties you'll ever meet. I am honored to call her one of my "breast friends," and I am beyond proud of Katie for wanting to give back to those who have helped her momma. I love you sweetie!

Katie loved making signs for the big sale!

The girls hard at work!

Prancing Around Like a Unicorn

The infamous Ted Kaczynski may have forever emblazoned the title "The Unabomber" into our American nomenclature, but I have the good fortune to coin a new, much more benign term as I wander around with one deflated titty...I am the self-proclaimed "Uniboober." Yes, cancer has dished up its next helping of humility and satire. 

Why, you may ask, do I find myself in this predicament? Radiation therapy requires a beam to be shot at my chest at a particular angle to lessen the damage to "good tissue" like my heart and lungs (which I tend to place great value in). In order to achieve that proper angle, the doctor had to remove nearly all the expansion fluid from one boob. Oh, yes, it looks exactly as you may be imagining...so sorry for the visual.

I've been prancing around like a damn unicorn for nearly two weeks now but I'm finally getting about as used to it as possible. I have been trying to patiently wait for the call to say the radiation oncologist has my plan all calculated and we can get this rolling. I am sporting some lovely crosshair marks on my torso so they can properly align me once in the machine. All I've been needing is the date and time to show up! Well, with a little urging from my dear Dr. Flora today, I got placed into the schedule to begin radiation therapy Thursday!!! I know this may seem odd to get excited about radiation, but I truly am ready to do this thing! I have 28 rounds ahead of me.

My Lone Star State loved ones, I am sad to say that doesn't put us in Texas until sometime during the last week of June...if I skip having my right boob re-inflated after radiation which would take four more weeks. The kids are having a hard time with this delay but there is no way to speed it up. I can't say I've ever seen a one-tittied woman in a bathing suit. Omigosh this is gonna be a summer to remember!

Shifting gears, I want to spend a few moments to ask for support for my cousin Jeanne Beckwith Elberfeld whom I reported recently tested positive for the CHEK2 gene. She just found out that she, too, has breast cancer. She does not yet have the details or plan of action, but I know that she will need all the love and encouragement the universe can offer. Jeanne, you are in my thoughts and I will always be here for you whenever you may need me. 

I'll leave you with one final thought...I told you my hair is in the process of sprouting. This includes my eyebrows (although oddly enough I have now lost all but two brave eyelashes). I must say my eyebrows are EXCITED to be back in business. One might call them overzealous. Should this continue, I may be known as the "Unibrow Uniboober!"

My Cancer Report Card…The Results Are In

The amazing group at Fort Thomas 

Women's Wellness Center unofficially

crowned me "Ms. Fort Thomas!" I 

absolutely love and adore Dr. Heidi

Murley, Bev, Linda and Nancy. 

Bev and Linda sure know how to make a lady feel special!

PATHOLOGY RESULTS
This past week, I finally had the chance to discuss my pathology report with my oncologists following last month's double mastectomy. The pathology report is the equivalent of getting your cancer report card. It shows you how your cancer is doing after hitting it with chemo and surgery. I had a very good response to the chemotherapy and the tumors shrank significantly. Dr. Flora used the terms "near cure" and "better than expected." If this was my starting point, I would have been considered a stage 1. There were three areas left that were found to still be cancerous, but they were much much smaller than what I started with…2 mm down from 4 cm. Dr. Heidi Murley was happy about the margins surrounding the remaining cancerous sites. She said she is confident they got all the cancer in the area. 

While I am relieved that the cancer responded well, I have to admit I'm a bit uneasy that we didn't knock it out of the park. We didn't achieve the much coveted "pathologic complete response" or pCR (which means the cancer is completely annihilated by neoadjuvant chemotherapy). Those who achieve pCR have a much better prognosis than those who do not achieve it. If you know me well, you know that I have a strong competitive side. While I've been able to curb that competitive spirit with age, I still do have certain expectations when I do choose to fully commit to a competition or battle, like I have in fighting this cancer. I choose my battles and competitions carefully and throw my all into the ring when it's my turn. So, from a competitor's standpoint, my pathology results feel a bit like winning runner-up or honorable mention…or salutatorian (you know that one stings a bit for this former valedictorian, ha!). It's a position I'm not completely comfortable with so it is difficult for me to be overwhelmingly excited even though I know asking for a pCR is more than I should have expected.

I asked Dr. Flora the question I have been afraid to ask until now. I've alluded to it at past visits, but the response was always vague no matter to whom I imposed the question. How do we know the cancer didn't spread through my lymph system beyond the nodes under my arm and take up residence somewhere else? His answer was simply "statistics." I've been on the slim side of statistics too many times to gain much comfort from that. At this point, they do not recommend body scans or any other proactive work ups. They wait to see if symptoms should present themselves in the future and hope it is caught in time during routine office exams. This is where I have to learn to let go and take the leap of faith that we are doing everything that can be done and the treatments will work. Just acknowledging those feelings and insecurities allows me to push past the fear and move forward for the rest of the battle. I'm sure the fear of recurrence must be felt by nearly all cancer patients, so I know I am not alone in feeling this way.

So that's where I stand now, and I am extremely thankful for how well the chemotherapy reduced the cancer and for the amazing care I've had and continue to experience. As you can see from the pictures associated with this post, my team of doctors and nurses are making this an experience full of warm memories and lots of laughs, too! For every difficult instance or tough news, I, in turn, have a fun and wonderful memory associated with it and that is quite a gift!

ATTENTION SLATER FAMILY

Cousin Jeanne Beckwith Elberfeld recently tested for that pesky CHEK2 gene that I tested positive for. As much as I wish it weren't true, she also tested positive for this same gene mutation. The CHEK2 mutation appears to run in the Slater side of the family. We are awaiting results of my dad's CHEK2 test as well and will let you know when I hear something. If you want more information about the CHEK2 gene, I listed some sources in a previous post. What it comes down to is a need for diligence in screening to catch any cancers early. The mutation makes it easy for the cancer to proliferate quickly as the gene to suppress growth and hasten death of unwanted cells is compromised. Jeanne, thank you so much for undergoing this genetic testing and for sharing your results for the sake of our family. May our children be armed with better information that with allow them to be proactive and hopefully spare them from this terrible disease. 

RANDOM REMARKS

I will find out next week when I am able to begin radiation therapy. That should happen within the next two weeks. I am ready for this next big step which is also the last big step. I will continue to receive Herceptin treatments every three weeks through October, but I can totally handle that. It's not a mass kill chemo like two of the other medicines I was taking. Instead, it works to block the HER2 receptors on any cancer that may have been left behind or that spread beyond the localized lymph nodes. Side effects are minimal. 

In the meantime, I am excited to report that my hair is sprouting right along with the fresh spring grasses! I can see repopulation progress every day so I am now able to look forward to going hatless as some point in my near future!

Oh, and check out my dear friend Krista Krallman's appearance in a feature story about The St. Elizabeth's Breast Center. A cancer survivor with incredible strength, she continues to inspire me daily: https://www.dropbox.com/s/0chhhxueqwkhf55/Healthy_Neighbors_Spring_2014_FINAL.pdf