I, Kathleen "Fannie" Doxer, am a breast cancer survivor. My story is not that unusual, since breast cancer in the United Sates is diagnosed at the rate of 180,000 new cases each year. About 40,000 women die of the disease annually. Most women my age have personally known another woman who has suffered with the disease or died of breast cancer. Many women go through their own frequent breast cancer scares and feel the dread of a diagnosis with each suspicious lump.

I was diagnosed in July, 1998 when I was 48 years old. It has been 6 years now, and I have been very blessed. My husband, my daughters, my family and medical team, plus my co-workers, and even customers, helped me get back on my feet through the long ordeal.

I had a history of breast lumps dating back since my early 30s. I found all the lumps myself, and all were benign. Then one evening while randomly touching my body I discovered a lump under my nipple. I casually mentioned it a few weeks later to my assistant and she called my breast surgeon immediately. Against my wishes, I was scheduled for an exam the next day. By then, breast lumps were so routine, it was like going for a dental check-up.

After my surgeon examined me, I was sent down to mammography and up for an ultra-sound. The ultra-sound did not look good. My surgeon scheduled a biopsy quickly after that. She asked if I wanted to be put under. I said no, this time I want to be awake and see the thing.
Inside the mini-operating suite I saw my surgeon remove a peanut shape piece of lumpy tissue. She sent it down to the lab for a frozen section. About 15 minutes later she got a call from the lab and I could tell from the change in her expression that the news was not good. After making nervous conversation, she sent me on my way and said she would call with the results. I went back to my normal routine. A few days later I received a letter stating that my mammogram "showed no signs of cancer." Yet, seven days after the biopsy my surgeon called and said, "We've been lucky so far, but this time we weren't so lucky."

I had breast cancer, and she wanted me in her office the next morning to discuss treatment options. I told her I had a prior appointment with a cemetery to choose a grave plot for my younger brother who was dying of lung cancer. As awful as that was, she insisted I come in earlier, at 8 a.m., so I did, along with my husband and daughter. There she explained that I had a 1.4 centimeter infiltrating ductal carcinoma and it was "her-2 neu" positive, estrogen-negative. This combination occurs in approximately 1/3 of all breast cancers. As written in Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book, her-2 cancers are "deadlier and more likely to reoccur." That scared me to the core.

After receiving a second opinion, the plan was for me to have a partial mastectomy to remove 1/3 of my breast. It was now two weeks after my diagnosis. Heartbreakingly, my dear, handsome brother passed away the day before my scheduled surgery. Numbly, I called the hospital to see if I could postpone things, but my surgeon firmly said no. I told her I hadn't even told my mother or father about my cancer and I didn't want to miss my brother's wake and funeral. She insisted I tell them that day and that we go through with the plan. Time was wasting, so I drove out to my parents home and gave them my cancer news on the same day my brother had died. Needless to say we were all in shock...

My surgery went well and I made it to my brother's funeral, though I did miss his wake. I had drains and bandages and was in a daze. Then I went home to try to recover. My sister from California stayed with me and we supported each other in our grief.

A week later I got a call from my surgeon. "We didn't get clean margins." (Which meant to me, they didn't get it all.) I was quickly scheduled for a mastectomy, though in the meantime I was sent to a plastic surgeon to decide on reconstruction options. After viewing animated filmstrips and actual before and after pictures of other patients, my husband and I chose a "tram-flap" procedure, which would be performed immediately after the mastectomy while still in the operating room. A tram-flap reconstruction uses your body's own muscle and skin tissue from the abdomen to construct a more natural feeling breast. It's also touted as having an added benefit: a tummy tuck. To an active person like myself, I could have cared less!

The mastectomy and tram flap went according to plan and luckily there were no cancerous lymph nodes. (I just love my surgeon... when she got that news she raced across the hospital campus to tell me in person.) I was in the hospital for 6 days. This was the August of the Monica Lewinsky blue dress scandals. In my hospital bed I watched as the whole world was mesmerized by such trash!

I finally went home to recuperate enough for my 1st chemotherapy which was scheduled for October 1st. Coincidentally, October 1st was the day my husband and I were supposed to move out of our rented apartment in Boston to our condo in Newton, which was undergoing renovations. In July, as soon as I found I had cancer, we asked our landlord if we could remain in the unit another 6 months or so, due to my illness. He refused to extend our lease. I hadn't the energy to finish working on the condo, so we were forced to find another apartment. Moving day was therefore 1st chemo day. I was not allowed to lift anything over 4 pounds. Nearly everything we owned ended up in storage. Without the comforts of my home, and living with heaps of cardboard boxes in a tiny sunless apartment, I somehow got through my four cycles of chemo and recuperated from my tram-flap.

My newest problem became the instant menopause brought on by chemo. The hot flashes came on especially hard around 5 p.m. and then would go on through the night. Because I had breast cancer, I was not and am still not allowed to take any estrogen-type medications to ease the symptoms of menopause, including natural herbs and over-the-counter remedies. I thought I was going mad.

I did not go to the store or office for four months during this ordeal. I tried to work from the apartment but couldn't muster the mental or physical energy. I pretty much stayed inside, watching reruns of Seinfeld and the like, except for visits to my breast cancer support group and mind-body connection meditation classes. My hair was gone and I kept a scarf around my head to keep me warm. I hardly wore a wig. Even though I lost my sense of taste, my daughters cooked for me and brought me yummy treats. My grandchildren's visits entertained me. My husband took over all other areas of our lives, up to and including simple tasks like loading the dishwasher.

My heart ached for women from Rosie's Place who were suffering from serious illnesses and had no permanent home or comfy couch on which to lay their heads. Frugal Fannie's has through the years enjoyed a wonderful relationship with Rosie's Place and we had done much to help create a beautiful home for homeless women living with HIV and AIDS. Now I felt proud of myself for doing that good work. Through the trying circumstances of my own recovery period, I knew I was fortunate and I thanked God.

It took about 3 or 4 years to feel "normal" again. The ground beneath my feet was shaken as if an earthquake had hit. Unbelievably healthy all my life, now I was afraid I wouldn't live very long. But surprisingly, as soon as I was strong enough, I dove right back into work and took on major new challenges. I should have slowed down, but was somehow in a race against time and myself to achieve even more and more. I identified with Liz Tilberis, who had written a book called No Time To Die. In it she wrote of climbing her way up the publishing ladder to become editor of Vogue magazine, and then being diagnosed with the ovarian cancer that eventually did kill her. She was photographed at a high profile business event 4 weeks before her death and she looked fabulous. She didn't quit. I couldn't quit.

Today I still work hard. I have a mother who is dying of metastasized breast cancer (her 2nd breast cancer in 20 years), and another brother who just finished up with surgery, chemo and radiation for head and neck cancer. My sister was smart enough to have a prophalactic double mastectomy and her ovaries out, so she would not have to face cancer someday. I'm going through genetic testing to see if I have the breast cancer gene, so my daughters can have information they need about their own breast health.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. In our Frugal Fannie's store we have a small section devoted to selling breast cancer related items, some pictured below. Proceeds go to various breast cancer charities. You will also notice that all of our associates wear a pink ribbon on their aprons. Frugal Fannie's is dedicated to helping defeat this deadly disease. Because as I said, my story is just one of 180,000 new stories each year.
BRACELET 9.99

NOTEBOOK SET: 7.95
PINK TEE SHIRT with screened white ribbon: $9.95.

Also available: WHITE TEE SHIRT with pink screened ribbon.
SPORTS WATER BOTTLE: 2.95 ITEMS SHOWN available in store only.