I was around 8 or 9 when my Nana started asking me to help her do everyday ordinary things. She needed me to help her in the bath tub, or sweep the floor or help making the beds. I didn’t know why, at the time, but I helped.

We lived with her & my grandfather, and I knew something was up, because normally, my Nana never asked for anyone’s help.

Eventually, my mom found out that my Nana was having difficulties and insisted she go to the doctor.  Her breast was 2-3 times its normal size, red and just not HERS.

The trip to the doctor’s office yielded scary information.  It was cancer and it had been allowed to progress for some time.  She’d have to have surgery immediately.  The year was 1976.

They had to do a mastectomy, and in 1976, there weren’t a lot of options for reconstruction.  She came home with a scar and a bra that she had to blow air into in order for it to appear to have a breast in it. 

This was so embarrassing for her, and she was always concerned that they were lopsided.  It would eventually become a joke but I remember the hurt in her face.  She’d lost an important part of herself.  But she moved on, and would go on to live another THIRTY YEARS - and face another bout with cancer (uterine) that she’d again beat. 

Both times, she had a surgery, but no chemo, no radiation.  She kicked cancer’s ASS.  She was the strongest woman I’ve ever know.  We would eventually lose her to a more insidious disease - Alzheimer’s - but she will always have that legacy in our family. 

She kicked cancer’s ASS - TWICE! My Nana.

—Dawn