Page 28 - Tonilee & Bobbye Social Media Special Edition Oct Nov 2011 (1)

A Survivor’s Tale

By Kimberly K. Robeson

She has short black hair, dark vivacious eyes, and a big toothy sis of stage 3 breast cancer, she had a lumpectomy, 8 sessions of
smile. Her lively appearance and energetic movements admit to aggressive chemotherapy, and 23 sessions of radiation. “There was
none of the struggles she has faced these past few years. And a day after chemo when I felt so bad that I just felt like I couldn’t go
there have been many. Ysabel Giacalone is a forty-two-year old on. So my mother brought me my son and showed him to me as I
woman who is fighting breast cancer—for the lay on the
second time. As she sits across from me with couch. ‘This
her pink computer, we talk about how we both is what you
love the color pink. Pink used to be thought of are fight-
as such a girly color, but today the pink ribbon ing for’ she
has become such a powerful symbol: Since its said.” When
inception in the early 90s, it has become the she tells
symbol to make women aware of breast health this story,
and screening. It is also the universal symbol my eyes are
that says we need to find a cure because we also misty.
all know someone who has had breast cancer. Ysabel
Maybe she is your mother, your sister, maybe a explains
friend, a colleague, maybe your niece, or your that her
28 neighbor—this is a disease that (too often) hits mother was
too close to home. According to the National her pillar
Cancer Institute, 230,000 cases of breast of strength
cancer are diagnosed each year, and from that whereas
abstract number, one real live case was sitting her hus-
before me, a strong woman who was ready to band “did
tell her story. not deal so
As she leaned into the table and her voice well with the
lowered a bit, Ysabel told me about the day cancer the
she found a lump in her breast. She was only first time.
twenty-four. From a young age she actively He didn’t
did breast self-exams upon the urging of her want to talk
mother. It was preventative; no one in Ysa- about it . . .
bel’s family had ever had breast cancer, so as if by not
when she felt something strange, she went to saying the
see her doctor, but was not prepared for what ‘C’ word, it
would follow. Within 72 hours, after a biopsy, would disap-
she was told—on the phone while at work—by pear.” I find
a heartless doctor: “You have breast cancer.” his reaction
As she tells me this, I can feel my temperature understand-
rise. My mother’s breast cancer diagnosis was able. Every-
delivered in a similar, callous manner. The doc- one deals
tor walked in the office, told my mother, “You with tough
have breast cancer,” handed us some pamphlets, said “read them situations differently, and how can a husband face the fact that his
over, and we’ll talk next week.” If anyone in the medical profession new young wife may not be here to be his forever partner, here to
reads this article, please let this be a reminder to treat patients— help raise and love their son. Ysabel explained he went into a “need
all patients in all circumstances—with sensitivity and compassion to take care of business” mode as he had to be everything, do ev-
because this other type of “care” is simply unacceptable. erything. “It was a tough time” she admits, but she did survive. They
As Ysabel tells me about the two minute phone call, for the first time survived. Ysabel regained her strength, went back to work, and life
in our conversation, tears well in her eyes. This was over sixteen seemed like it was almost back to normal. There was a difference
years ago, yet the anguish she experienced from that call is still though, “It completely changed me and my family.” They learned
apparent. And why wouldn’t it be? She was happily married with an what was really important in life: it was not getting more promotions,
eleven month old son and was told at her job—without any familial more money, or more toys, but spending time with family. So for
support—that she had breast cancer. It was all a blur after that, “I fifteen years life was good again.
had to drive home. I don’t remember how I did it.” After her diagno-