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My story began in September of 1998 during a routine doctor’s appointment. The doctor said she would like me to have a mammogram. Well, I thought to myself, I’m 41 years old, it’s probably normal to have a mammogram; I never guessed how it would turn out. The test results came back and I was told that I had breast cancer stage two. In a matter of seconds my whole world came crashing down around me. I drove home crying all the way and prayed asking God to help me be strong.
 
I sat down with my two sons and explained the best way I knew how—that mom was just diagnosed with breast cancer but everything would be okay. Seeing the tears in their eyes and listening to all their many, many questions was one of the hardest things I had ever done. We cried together as I tried so very hard to comfort them and let them know that I would be there to love and to care for them no matter what.
 
I pulled together for the time being, and then I had the surgery and chemotherapy. The chemo was very hard on me. There were many times I was so sick I wanted to give up but I couldn’t; I had to be there for my boys. So I went on with all the treatments and endless tests in between and I made it--by the grace of God I made it.
 
Years passed and I was feeling great. Then four years and eight months later during a self-exam I found a lump. Of course this sent my mind in a tailspin. This can’t be happening to me again. I made an appointment with my oncologist immediately and all of my suspicions came true. The cancer came back again. Same place, only this time it was stage one. The doctor reassured me it was found early and that this time my chances for survival were even greater. So together we made a battle plan to kill the cancer once and for all. I prayed and cried and prayed and cried some more and left the doctor’s office with my new-found wisdom and my renewed faith.
 
I worried how I was going to tell my family and what would happen to my job, my finances, and my life. I was 46 years old; I was too young to die. Through all the many thoughts that day the one that stood out the most was that I am in control of my life. With that being said I started my healing process all over again: surgery, chemo, and this time around I had radiation. Between losing a part of my breast and losing my hair I felt the physical things that made me a woman were being taken from me. My faith was being tested. But I took a stand with my family at my side through it all and had God in my life each day. I will not surrender to its name. I will survive cancer. My name is Deborah, this is my story. In February of 2008 I celebrated five years cancer free, and today I celebrate life.
 
I had my second surgery on my birthday so that every year when I celebrate my birthday I’m celebrating another year of life. So birthdays are even more special than they ever have been because it’s life all over again.
 
- Deb