In October 2013, I wrote an article about metastatic breast cancer (MBC) for the Idaho Statesman. I profiled four Idaho women whose breast cancer had spread to other parts of their bodies, a condition for which there is currently no cure. Two of those women have since passed.
The numbers around breast cancer are staggering: One in eight women are diagnosed with the disease and around a third of those have their cancer metastasize. While it isn’t the facts and figures that have motivated me to advocate for MBC research, this past year I determined that if I cared about seeing the lives of my MBC friends extended, I needed to focus more on the numbers.
In 2015 I profiled six Idaho women whose breast cancer was Stage 4 meaning the cancer had spread or metastasized outside of the breast tissue and into other parts of their body.
There is a common perception that once a woman finishes the major components of breast cancer treatment — surgery, chemotherapy, radiation and reconstruction — that she is on the other side of the disease, and her life can go back to normal. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“My only rule for this is that you never look down on me. I’m better than your pity. The reason that I don’t normally share my story is that I’m in a better place than I should be. My reality is that I should either be dead or a crack-whore. I’m absolutely one of those girls that is from the wrong side of the tracks,” she pauses, “but I’ve made it to the other side.”
Photographer Chad Estes is on a mission to provide a revealing look at women who have battled breast cancer. By combining powerful and beautiful images with women’s stories, he provides an intimate and emotional glimpse into survivors’ experiences.
Unfortunately, too many of our friends find out they are facing breast cancer of another color than pink. The current numbers are staggering. As many as 30 percent of those who have battled breast cancer, like my friend Trina, will see it come back. And if it spreads, 97 percent of the time it can be slowed, but not stopped.
No, I don’t make it a habit of ‘laying on of hands’ when I meet with a woman who has breast cancer. In fact, since I am often taking pictures of them revealing their scars I am careful not to touch them at all. But I also don’t hesitate on giving them one of my hands to grip during the middle of a procedure or exam. And I get a lot of chest to chest hugs (though many of them don’t have the nerve endings to feel it any longer). And the last time one of them kissed me it was from her deathbed and I don’t think that I’ve ever received such a holy kiss.
When I shared my journey towards taking these portraits Heidi embraced me with her smile. When I explained that I initially faced this project with trepidation and that I had to ask friends to literally help build my faith and confidence – she understood. She also expressed the same gratitude towards my friends as I feel in my heart.
At the end of the night Heidi embraced me in a hug and encouraged me not to stop this project. I think she fueled it for a long time to come.
A couple of years ago I was contacted by a young lady in high school who heard that I was helping people share their scar stories. Cara told me she had a gnarly scar that ran the length of her spine due to a scoliosis surgery. She was getting into modeling and didn’t want the scar to hold her back in any way. She asked if we could do a photo shoot together that shared her scar.
Nicole discovered she had cancer in August of 2009. The lump that her health care providers had told her for two years was just a cyst, ended up being much more. It was the eyes of the ultrasound tech that gave her the terrifying news that there was something wrong.
When breast cancer came to visit Melissa had to have a double mastectomy. Her curvaceous figure took a hit and then when she lost her hair to chemo she felt like a teenage boy.
When Jan received an email from a friend letting her know about The Reveal Mission, her curiosity was piqued just enough to pick up the phone. Little did she know the healing that would result just because she took action.
Trina followed her doctor’s instructions and got her baseline mammogram when she was 35 years old. Everything checked out fine so they told her she could wait to have another at age 40. Seventeen months later, in March of 2010 she found a lump in her breast.
Cancer was cruel to Cheryl. She lived a very active life, lived for the outdoors, and spent the majority of her free time mountain biking. It was after an exercise session that Cheryl found a lump. She convinced herself that it was from a prior injury, but after a couple of months when it hadn’t gone away she decided to have a mammogram.
Betsy lost a breast to cancer. When she was given options by her doctor about treatments she was happy. Betsy is not one who likes to be boxed into the corner and have no choices.
