What It Means—Then and Now

A 37-year survivor described her surgery and treatment by radioactive radium. Con-
fined to the hospital for six weeks and in isolation for most of that time, she under-went what by today’s standards would be a brutal
regimen. You had to wonder, having heard her story,
if she still glows in the dark.
Twenty-five years ago, my mother-in-law called in tears.
The doctor had found a “highly suspicious”
dimple in her breast. Without any tests, no questions
asked, she went to surgery. They cut out a portion,
tested it, and, having found cancer, removed her breast.
She had no input, no opportunity to ask questions or
make decisions. When she woke up, her only question
was, “Did they take it all?”
These two women and hundreds of thousands like
them were the pioneers whose treatments paved the
way for us. Some paid a dear price. Many lost their
lives. Their sacrifices, however, have resulted in heart-
ening statistics from the National Cancer Institute. For
the first time ever, breast cancer survival rates are in-
creasing. The improved survival rates are in large part
the result of women conscientiously doing their monthly breast self-exams and get-
ting annual clinical exams and mammograms.
But it’s a good-news-bad-news situation. The bad news is that the increase in survival
follows hard on the heels of an increase in the number of breast cancer diagnoses.
Most authorities agree, however, that the cases aren’t really increasing. We’re just bet-
ter at detection. Early detection, in turn, improves survival rate.
The long and the short of it is elementary, my dear Watson: Not only have there been
significant strides in the detection of breast cancer but also in its treatment. What it
meant when Aunt Minnie had breast cancer is not what it means today—to you. After
diagnosis, you can still buy long-term stocks and bonds with high hopes of cashing
them in, but the secret is early detection.