I have advanced stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC). MBC is when breast cancer has spread to other parts of the body. Typically, it spreads to the bones, liver, lungs, and brain. There is currently no cure for MBC but there is treatment, and some women can live for many years.

Don’t curse me if this column sounds crazy. Or do. It’s up to you. But what I’m sharing in this column is true for me and it has changed my life for the good. Trust me, as a single woman who lives alone with her two cats, is constantly hustling to secure editorial work and hasn’t had a single decent “like” on Hinge in well over a year, I’m always looking for the positive. This is my honest-to-goodness M.O.

Breast cancer and its various treatments can change your body in many ways: weight gain or loss, tenderness, lymphedema (swelling in the limbs), partial or complete mastectomies, prosthetic breasts. This might mean that your old or favorite clothing may not fit, or fit properly any longer, and it can be difficult to find outfits that you can feel good in. It may be time to have a heart-to-heart with your closet, and explore some of the options for comfortable, adaptive clothing that can make you feel confident and excited about getting dressed again.

I was shocked to learn I had breast cancer. My previous mammograms had never showed anything. I noticed that one of my nipples was inverted which sent me to my family doctor. I was then referred to the Breast Health Clinic in Ottawa on an urgent basis where I had tests done and was informed I had advanced invasive lobular breast cancer.

In today’s post, we provide the questions that were sent in and asked during the live session of our Questions and Experts session held on February 20th, 2023. In this session, Certified Lymphedema Therapist Marize Ibrahim answers your questions about breast cancer-related lymphedema.

Feel it on the first. Know your lemons. Check your boobies. Get in touch with them apples. I never noticed these catch phrases written on social media to inspire women to do monthly breast self-exams until after I was diagnosed. Well after too, like, when I was recovering from having had breast cancer surgery and treatment. Ironic, isn’t it? More ironic is the fact that I never really did regular breast self-examinations on my boobs and when I did, they were always half-hearted, like an afterthought.

A breast cancer diagnosis comes with so many questions and there never seems to be enough time at appointments to have some of these questions answered. To help address this, we developed a "Q&E: Questions and Experts" series. In this series, a variety of experts spend the entire virtual session answering pre-submitted and live questions from participants. Watching the videos on-demand might be a little difficult to get through. So, we’ve created this guide to help you get right to the questions and answers that matter the most to you

A 3D nipple and/or areola tattoo is an optional last step following nipple reconstruction surgery or as an alternative to nipple reconstruction surgery. If you got a mastectomy and did not get a nipple-sparing mastectomy or nipple reconstruction surgery, then 3D tattooing uses dark and light pigments to create a 3D illusion of the areola(s) and the nipple(s). If a nipple reconstruction surgery was performed, then 3D tattooing would be used to create an areola and/or to enhance the reconstructed nipple.

 In this blog series, we present excerpts from Dr. David Stewart’s book A Short Primer on Why Cancer Still Sucks. The fourth reason that cancer still sucks is that it can recur in some patients even if it appears to have been removed completely by surgery. Surgery is not even an option for many patients. 

A breast cancer diagnosis comes with so many questions and there never seems to be enough time at appointments to have some of these questions answered. To help address this, we developed a "Q&E: Questions and Experts" series. In this series, a variety of experts spend the entire virtual session answering pre-submitted and live questions from participants. Watching the videos on-demand might be a little difficult to get through. So, we’ve created this guide to help you get right to the questions and answers that matter the most to you.

I’ve been watching Harry & Meghan, the documentary series on Netflix. I’m not a royal’s buff or even a fan, well, except for Princess Diana (I thought she was great). No, I started watching the series for boredom’s sake, because I needed a new show. I figured that because I like docu-series and because I couldn’t watch what I really wanted to—the Kardashian’s new reality show because I don’t have Disney+—this was it. So, I clicked play and about five minutes into Episode 1, I was hooked.

This year 28,000 women in Canada will be diagnosed with breast cancer. On March 10, 2022, I became one of those women. Disturbingly, within a month of my diagnosis, two more of my close friends received their breast cancer diagnoses. In total, I have 15 close friends and counting who are either breast cancer survivors, or who are currently battling breast cancer. This silent epidemic seems to be growing at an extraordinary pace.

The San Antonio Breast Cancer Symposium (SABCS) is the annual breast cancer conference that brings together researchers, clinicians, patients and manufacturers from all over the world to discuss the latest breast cancer research. Last December, we were pleased to be able to attend in-person, and we'd like to share with you the highlights from SABCS.

The past year allowed us a return to a more normal routine in a lot of ways, and our blogs from 2022 reflect that. Posts about being able to gather for the holidays, get mastectomy tattoos, and having in-person healthcare visits were some of the topics of our top 10 blog posts from last year.

CBCN connects patients, caregivers, health care professionals, researchers, public health agencies and industry stakeholders to improve knowledge translation and promote optimal health outcomes for Canadians with breast cancer. We do this through the promotion of information sharing, education, and advocacy activities. As we look forward to the new year, we would also like to look back on 2022 and share what CBCN has achieved on behalf of Canadian breast cancer patients, their loved ones, and caregivers.

Let me just start by saying, while writing, that I’m not a Grinch. I promise. That said, Christmas is not my favourite holiday. (Thanksgiving is, because it’s all about the gratitude, mashed potatoes and turkey.) Yet, after my breast cancer diagnosis, surgery and treatment, the only place I wanted to be for the holidays was with my family in Calgary. Being single and dealing with breast cancer’s day-to-day stressors alone, by myself with my cat, was overwhelming. So, my post-cancer-treatment Christmas was probably one of the most stress-free I’ve ever experienced. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have to make one decision for a solid week, that my family loved on me or because I didn’t cook a single meal, I don’t know. But it worked and when I returned to Toronto, despite the brain fog and Tamoxifen madness, I felt lighter.

The minute you get a cancer diagnosis, you start looking for the magic cure. For me, this meant researching the hell out of the disease and revamping my lifestyle, exercise regime, spiritual practice, and diet. Within days, I knew the latest cancer breakthroughs and snake oil salesman’s remedy for the problem. And I took on the task of miraculous cure (and possible canonization) with a vengeance. Turmeric was the new gold standard. I popped four pills a day and drank Indian golden milk and turmeric lemon tea morning, noon, and night. My skin oozed Trumpian orange, my countertops glowed with permanent yellow stains, and man, did I feel good. I knocked back shots of apple cider vinegar chased by pomegranate juice. I downed hemp hearts, chia, flax, and bee pollen. My daughter Sonja arrived one day with the Holy Grail—a Vitamix— and it became my cauldron, a sacred vessel for preparing healing concoctions laced with kale, ginger, blueberries, and coconut water.

Growing up, every time I passed a mirror I would pause and stare at my reflection. I got busted for it too. A lot. My mom and aunties told me it wasn’t nice to look at myself, that it was vain or to cut it out—sometimes they said all three statements at the same time. To be clear, I wasn’t always admiring myself, I mean sometimes I was, but after I turned 12 and went to junior high school, my covert glances were more about me feeling insecure than anything else. I had to make sure I didn’t look weird, that my bobbed hair was tucked behind my left ear just so or that my highly Ten-O-Sixed skin wasn’t shining like a too-bright light. I was looking because I needed to reassure myself that I looked good. That I was good enough.

Tomorrow, November 29^th is Giving Tuesday, the world’s largest generosity movement. Created in 2012, it was a simple idea: a day that encourages people to do good. Make someone smile, help a neighbour or a stranger, show up for an issue you care about, or give some of what you have to those in need. Giving Tuesday is a time when people come together to celebrate giving and participate in activities that support charities and non-profits; to thank, help, give, show kindness, and share with others. Donations made to CBCN help us fulfill these needs for people dealing with breast cancer, their loved ones, and caregivers.

The words “breast cancer” and “humour” are seldom in the same sentence. When it is revealed that someone has breast cancer, or any type of cancer, reactions are often in the form of sympathy, compassion, anger, denial, pity, or empathy; not jokes or laughter. While all emotions about being diagnosed or living with breast cancer are valid, having a sense of humour about it is often seen as being in bad taste or disrespectful. The role of humour in times of crisis generally gets a bad rap, whether it’s a natural disaster like Hurricane Katrina, or something personal, like a breast cancer diagnosis; however, it has been well documented that laughing about tragic or terrible things can make those things more easily borne, especially when that laughter is shared.