36 was the age I was first diagnosis. I guess I was lucky because they caught it in time. My cat Rascal, who was 16 at the time, jumped on my chest one night, the next morning I had blood on my left nipple. In a matter of a month, I lost my left breast. My daughter was 11 at the time; she wasn't afraid of losing me, I guess because she really didn't understand. Then when I lost my hair, she cried. I reassured her I was going to be ok, that losing my hair was a good thing, because is showed the chemotherapy was working. Life was good for the next couple of years, I even felt beautiful and sexy again. Then when I turned 39, I found another lump on my right breast. I decided to have my breast removed because I didn't want the cancer to come back, and also wanted to look more even, and I was told when I have my implants put in, I could chose any size I wanted. 36C was what I choose, and never regretted it. Now my daugher is 27 and I'm 50, and I'm still standing.

Doris Leddy
New York, NY