INSIDE:

NEWS/STORIES/ARTICLES
Book Reviews
Columns/Opinion/Cartoon
Films
International
National
NW/Local
Recipes
Special A.C.E. Stories
Sports
Online Paper (PDF)

CLASSIFIED SECTION
Bids & Public Notices
NW Job Market

NW RESOURCE GUIDE
Archives
Consulates
Organizations
Scholarships
Special Sections

Upcoming

The Asian Reporter 19th Annual Scholarship & Awards Banquet -
Thursday, April 20, 2017 

Asian Reporter Info

About Us

Advertising Info.

Contact Us
Subscription Info. & Back Issues

ASIA LINKS
Currency Exchange
Time Zones
More Asian Links

Copyright © 1990 - 2016
AR Home

Breast cancer survivor Lourdes Humphries.

From The Asian Reporter, V14, #30 (July 20, 2004), page 1 and 7.

By Lourdes G. Humphries

Special to The Asian Reporter

It’s been three years since I started living life differently. I’m a kinder, gentler, more forgiving person, and value my health as a gift. These years have not all been easy — I lost my dear husband to lung cancer soon after my ordeal with chemotherapy and radiation, and I am still taking medication every day. But if you were to ask me to describe how I feel now, I would say that I am very happy. I say this because I am alive, because I survived breast cancer.

Breast cancer is one of the leading causes of death in women in the United States. According to the American Cancer Society, there are now slightly over two million women in the U.S. who have been diagnosed with breast cancer. Research has also shown that while Asian women traditionally have lower risk of breast cancer than other ethnic groups, the risk increases in subsequent generations after regular exams, early detection increase chance of surviving breast cancer immigration to the United States. I am a Filipina. I moved to this country more than 19 years ago. And no one in my family ever had cancer.

I was 44 years old when I first felt the lump that would lead me to the operating table. It had been my daily bedtime ritual to conduct breast self-examination, and one night I felt a tiny hard lump — like a BB gun pellet — in my left breast. My gynecologist could not find it during my annual clinical breast exam a few days later, and instead I guided her fingers to where I knew it was. She felt the barely-perceptible anomaly slide underneath my skin, and told me not to worry. "Watch it," she said. And "watch it" we both did — I during my nightly routine and she during my annual appointments with her and the annual mammogram.

The chances of surviving breast cancer increase greatly if it is detected while still confined to the breast tissue, and before it has started to cause symptoms. Breast health advocates say that early detection practices — breast self-examination (BSE) and clinical breast examinations (CBE) for every woman, and a mammogram every year for women aged 40 and above — help to save thousands of lives every year. Sadly, research has suggested that screening rates are lower among women in the Asian Pacific Islander community, and that cancer is detected at later stages, leading to higher rates of mortality. I believe that every woman needs to be familiar with how her breasts feel and look through regular BSE. This is the only way you can be sensitive to any changes, and alert your doctor quickly.

In the fifth year after the tiny hard lump was found, I noticed that the shape of my breast had changed, and I saw my doctor immediately. Two biopsies and a lumpectomy later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I considered my options and decided to have a mastectomy on not one, but both breasts.

Perhaps my decision seems drastic but, in hindsight, it saved my life. After the surgery, a previously undetected tiny cancerous lump was found hidden in the removed good tissue. There were risks that the cancer had spread, and I had to be treated with chemotherapy and radiation. The treatment made me feel nauseated and weak, and there were times when I wished, "Just let me die." However, soon after my treatment my husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer and needed me. I managed to pull myself together to take care of him. My husband did not survive cancer, but I did.

Now, my life is full with community involvement, work, and hobbies, the way it used to be. I don’t feel ashamed or insecure for not having breasts — my life is so much more valuable than mere symbols of womanhood. I know, too, that while there is no more cancerous activity in my body, there is always the possibility that the disease may recur. Since I joined my breast cancer survivor support group, two members have passed away. Having come so close to death, and living with its shadow every day, I am thankful for simply being alive.

Every little thing I did — regularly practicing self-breast examination, having open communication with my doctor, getting annual clinical exams and mammograms, being decisive about treating the cancer — contributed to my survival. I encourage every woman to start advocating for your own health. You should not be discouraged by language and cultural differences with your doctor, or the costs of getting medical attention and mammograms. In the bigger scheme of things, your life is so much more important.