Over the years, you may have participated in pink-themed races and donned pink shoe laces in an effort to demonstrate solidarity and support regarding breast cancer awareness.
Good intentions notwithstanding, let's pause for a moment to consider what has truly been accomplished since National Breast Cancer Awareness Month was launched in 1985. Have fewer people gotten the disease? Have survival rates improved? The answers are disconcerting:
- Mortality rates remain depressingly flat. In 1988 approximately 40,000 women perished annually from breast cancer; in 2013 39,620 women and 410 men will have died from the disease.
- Today, approximately 162,000 women and men are living with metastatic breast cancer in the U.S. Some of them developed metastatic disease five, 10, 15, or even 20 or more years after their initial diagnosis. Many are relatively young - in their 20s and 30 - with growing families.
- A diagnosis of early stage breast cancer provides no reassurance because the disease will eventually spread or "metastasize" to other organs in an astounding 30 percent of these patients.
- Median survival after a metastatic diagnosis is only three years - with no statistically significant improvement over the past 20 years.
Imagine for a moment that you've been diagnosed with early stage breast cancer. You have confidence that if you follow your doctor's recommendations, you'll live a normal life - after all, you have been made "aware" of breast cancer! But that doesn't always happen. Take my case: I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer at age 39 after 4 years of misdiagnosis. I experienced a double mastectomy, six cycles of the most toxic chemotherapy available at the time, followed by five years of Tamoxifen, a hormonal therapy. I became increasingly convinced that my experience with breast cancer was safely behind me each time I underwent annual cancer checkups with normal results.
Fourteen years after my initial diagnosis, I developed a dry, persistent cough that three doctors misdiagnosed as asthma, GERD, or post-nasal drip. After four years of chronic coughing I became hoarse. Finally a doctor recognized that my vocal cord was paralyzed. He ordered a scan that revealed a tumor pressing on the laryngeal nerve, which in turn caused paralysis.
A biopsy revealed metastatic breast cancer that was hormonally receptive. By then I had developed multiple lung tumors, a liter of malignant pleural effusion and pericardial effusion. A catheter was inserted in my chest to drain the fluid until it disappeared several weeks later. Weak, ill, and terrified, I didn't know whether I would live for another year and was determined to be as active as possible to enhance my odds of survival.
Although my oncologist recommended chemotherapy, I sought a second opinion from an oncologist who suggested hormonal treatment that has thankfully allowed me to enjoy a better quality of life. I also consult with a naturopathic oncologist regarding supplements and complementary therapies, and I've adjusted my diet to exclude sugar and processed foods.
My medical team is rounded out by a wonderful acupuncturist whose skills have enabled me to avoid anti-depressants. For emotional support, I exchange encouragement and information with people online who are coping with metastatic disease, and my husband has retired early so that we can enjoy time together while I am still well enough to do so.
After eight years of misdiagnosis, I'm left with little faith in the diagnostic capabilities of the medical establishment and have no illusions about living a normal life. Yet I'm one of the lucky ones: relatively old (age 60), not on chemotherapy, able to participate in daily activities, and currently pain-free. Conversely, most patients I know suffer terrible side effects from both their cancer and its treatment, such as fatigue, nausea, blistering skin, neuropathy, and excruciating bone pain.
In retrospect, I wouldn't change any decisions regarding my disease and its treatment. But I have to realize that "early stage" breast cancer, with which I was initially diagnosed, is significantly more lethal than the media conveys - given that nearly one of three early-stage patients will eventually succumb to their disease.
It's obvious that the battle against breast cancer, with incessant emphasis on "awareness" and early detection, has been watermarked upon the canvas of failure. Increasing awareness - especially when it's been heavily sugarcoated - will never alter the course of this disease or reduce the victim count. Only by deriving a mechanism to irrefutably prevent breast cancer and effectively treat those who already have it will we forever close the book on stories such as mine.
Anne Loeser is a retired software project manager who was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer 18 years after developing "early stage" disease. A passionate researcher, she continuously shares information and support on multiple forums with others who are dealing with terminal breast cancer. Anne currently resides in Salt Lake City, Utah with her husband and parrot.