I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer in February of 1996. I had 10 surgeries that year, including both breasts removed. When I found that lump, all I could think is, "You'd better know where you stand in Christ." I thought it was a death sentence. I refused to worry about it because I couldn't control it. I went through the surgery, chemo and radiation, along my daily routine, and nobody around me knew, except for family and close friends. I would throw on a wig, some makeup and go to my college classes days after surgery, even in pain, sickness and the diarrhea, because I wanted everything to be normal. The doctor told me my at that my attitude is what kept me alive. In retrospect, I felt alone, and wished I hadn't been embarrassed about telling somebody else, or going to a support group. Afterward, I felt a lot of guilt because some friends and/or movie stars died of breast cancer, and I survived. I wasn't able to share it for a long time, but now, after breast reconstruction, with my own body fat, I feel better telling my miracle story. For months and years after my surgery people would stare obviously at my chest, and I would get angry or embarrassed. I wasn't hearing to have reconstruction until about 12 years later. I am, glad I waited. The photo shows me graduating, with my wig, and knowing I was blessed to be there.

Marilynn
Muskogee, OK