I was 2 months past my 40th birthday. It was a fabulous 40 having just earned a first degree black belt and instructor certificate while starting on an education journey that I thought had long since past me by. My pillar of a son had just turned 13. In December 2009, during my yearly visit to the lady doc, I pointed out how my nipple was caved when I'd lay flat. The discussion quickly turned to family history. 1 great and 2 grandmothers from breast cancer and my mother from another cancer. I remember the words 'not exactly a family history technically', 'new recommendations', 'baseline at 50'. Then the miracle that saved my life, she put pen to paper to sign the order for my mammogram, though not without warning that the insurance company may not pay for it because of my age. Better do it now, I thought, as the company I worked for was canceling health benefits at the end of the year and they were talking layoffs. The diagnosis came New Years Eve. Within a week, I managed to be seen and set up with a plan of attack due to some kind hearts working to see me receive as much care as possible before the layoff and loss of insurance, both of which happened in February 2010. Stage II b. Modified radical mastectomy on the right and prophylactic mastectomy on the left. Chemo. My son learned how to cook and my couch became my best friend. I physically could not keep up with the martial arts and had to stop school. I lived on the charity of a group bikers and family. Key word being lived. After 4 long years, of adjunct chemo and 5 reconstructive surgeries, I haves lived. As soon as my hair started coming in, I went back to school. Slowly, but surely, I'm am regaining strength with a goal of testing for 2nd degree (one test away). You see, I'll never hear cancer free, but I lived. I look at other pink warriors and wonder why? I'll take this and honor them.

Christine Sayre
Belleville, MI