By Vic Clevenger
A crow is one of the only birds with the audacity to attack an eagle. They don’t just dive-bomb the eagle to keep it away from its nest or food. They will actually climb on top of the eagle and begin pecking at it. This majestic eagle will be in flight minding its own business doing eagle stuff and along comes this crow attempting to oppress, discourage and basically keep the eagle down on its level. What it hopes to accomplish is a mystery other than just keeping the eagle from doing what the eagle was meant to do.
As they continue their flight, the eagle soars higher, reaching altitudes far beyond the capabilities of the crow. The higher the eagle ascends, the thinner the air becomes, and the crow begins to gasp for breath. Struggling to get the needed oxygen, the crow’s grip on the eagle loosens and it begins to fall off, descending back to an altitude with which it is more comfortable. They eagle doesn’t allow the crow to hinder its purpose. This impressive bird just does what it does, continuing to do what it was created to do, SOAR.
I’ve encountered many crows in my life as I attempted to soar to greater heights, but found myself often just flying by the seat of my pants. Crows come in all shapes and sizes; from people telling you why you can’t or shouldn’t to the voices in your own head telling you why you can’t or shouldn’t. I think of that line from Pretty Woman, where Julia Roberts’ character says, “People put you down enough, you start to believe it.” Followed by, “The bad stuff is easier to believe, you ever notice that?” Those are some huge crows to deal with.
One of the biggest crows I have dealt with in my life was being diagnosed with male breast cancer in January 2023. When other people get cancer, your sympathy comes out and you think, “Aww, that’s terrible.” But when it’s you hearing the words, “You have male breast cancer”, it’s quite devastating. When I first heard about it, I was flabbergasted! Isn’t that a disease only women get? Guys don’t get breast cancer! Do they? Well, spoiler alert, men do get breast cancer, because we also have breast tissue.
My story begins in the fall of 1998 when my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer. My dad’s sisters had previously been diagnosed, but this was my mom; how could this be? There was no history as far as we knew of breast cancer on her side of the family, but here we were, nonetheless. After discussing what lay in store for her as far as treatment was concerned, she began to cry. Not for herself, but she was worried that the new baby, my daughter, would meet her grandmother without hair because of the chemotherapy she would endure.
Fast forward to 2010 and these two were as thick as thieves, bonding over their love of cooking, especially baking. As they made a mess of my kitchen, I snapped a photo of the two of them laughing it up as a cloud of flour swirled. My mom spent the entire next year searching for just the right apron to put this photo on as a gift for her granddaughter. On Christmas Eve 2011, I’m not sure who was happier, my mom or my daughter when she opened her gift. Little did we know, in three weeks this little girl would be telling her grandmother goodbye.
Fast forward once again to Thanksgiving week 2022, and my girlfriend pointed out that I must’ve dripped coffee on my white shirt. As I looked down, I found it strange that I dribbled coffee on the right side of my chest. But I’m a guy and could easily make a mess on the back of my shirt for that matter. As I went to the bathroom intending to change my shirt because we were having guests over for dinner, my nipple felt wet. Did I splash water on me as I washed my hands?
As I rubbed, the “water” wouldn’t go away so I started doing a little feeling around and more came out. So I did what most guys do I suppose; I faced the mirror and squeezed it. Fluid and blood came right out of my nipple. I called my girlfriend (now wife) to check out this ‘cyst’ or weird pimple right on my boob. She knew right away it was neither and in a couple of days, we headed to the emergency room.
It was here that the word cancer was brought up for the first time, as the radiologist took me in for a CAT scan. His words were startling yet his tone comforting as he said, “You know, men can get breast cancer too. Peter Criss from KISS had it. I’m not saying you do, but just wanted you to know.” The scan showed something and I was recommended to see my doctor.
Being based in the U.S, I had no insurance at the time, and I was bounced around with one county doctor telling me, “Ehh, it’s most likely not cancer. That would be rare.” But my girlfriend wasn’t settling for “probably,” she wanted to know and to be honest, I did too because I was getting kind of concerned.
Her persistence in calling person after person finally got me to a local U.S. based agency called Libby’s Legacy, who helps people in my situation. Through them, I was connected with the Women’s Center for Radiology where I had a mammogram and a biopsy. Less than a week later I was given the news. I had male breast cancer. Libby’s Legacy helped connect me with a doctor in just a few days and I was off to the races, as they say.
The doctor confirmed I indeed had male breast cancer, explained how it occurred, and made her suggestion: a double mastectomy. One would remove the cancer from my right side and the other would prevent it from coming back in my other breast. I agreed and the preparation began. I’d never had surgery before. Shoot, I barely took medicine for a headache, so this was foreign territory for me, and if I am to be totally honest, I was a bit scared.
Tuesday morning, February 14, 2023, Valentine’s Day, I walked into uncharted territory holding the hand of my girlfriend. On a day when I should’ve been planning a romantic dinner, buying flowers and chocolate, here we were in the hospital so I could have a double mastectomy for male breast cancer. The surgery went well, so they told me. I woke up asking to see my girlfriend and for some tequila (only one of which was accommodated). That evening, I was home on the couch with two drain hoses coming out of my chest attached to what I called plastic hand grenades pinned to my shirt and no chocolate. Needless to say, Valentine’s Day has a whole new significance to us now.
Follow-up visits and radiation were in my future. It’s here I learned male breast cancer is about endurance. I still see my oncologist every six months and take a pill every night. Having breast cancer is like a cross-country marathon race. There are doctors, ups and downs with a wide range of emotions to contend with and a unique journey that lasts for years. A crow, if you will, trying to keep me down.
Through it all, I’ve rediscovered my purpose. I’m a speaker, with over 30 years of experience, and a writer who is also a male breast cancer survivor. This renewal of focus has led me to write and speak on the subject of male breast cancer and the essential value of early detection. I’m not sure how many men have gotten checked because of my story, but my brother did, and he tested positive for the BRCA2 gene mutation.
Having male breast cancer has taught me persistence, endurance, and purpose in living my best life. These three lessons I carry with me in every aspect of living; at least I try. There’s no giving up because this, as with life itself, is a long journey, one I will complete on top because I am a survivor. There are places to see, grandkids in Ireland to take fishing and family in South Africa to braai (grill) with. There’s life to live and I plan on living every bit of it, soaring above the crows.
Many breast cancer support resources are designed for women, which can make men feel isolated after diagnosis. However, organizations like The Male Breast Cancer Global Alliance provide opportunities to connect with other men facing similar experiences. You can also use the Canadian Cancer Society's Community Services Locator to find local support groups.
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