Prologue
Our Canoe Trip
Our Canoe Trip
I will never forget our memorable canoe trip at Hillside Haven, a quiet trailer park retreat tucked away along the water, with the scenic countryside of Ardoch, Ontario as a backdrop. The sunshine shimmered hot and humid. It was a summer day in 1998, and I had a desire to do something I'd never done before. I whispered my idea to Mom, who laughed, ready to join me in my plan. We each grabbed an ice cold beer and slid them into our coolly cups, hoping they would last the length of our trip. Then, with my five year old daughter Ashley in tow, we headed off towards the stream and chose our canoe. The three of us climbed aboard, balancing ourselves on the gunwales, squealing with fright at each earwig we found. Mom settled up front, Ashley in the middle, and I at the back.
Wooden paddles in hand, we launched the beginning of what one day we would come to look upon as our own dragon boat race, three generations on the same breast cancer team we did not know we'd be later joining. We glided smoothly across the calm warm water. The only sounds came from birds singing, frogs croaking in the tall grass on the banks of the stream, and the trickle of droplets from our paddles splashing onto the surface of the water. The sweet country air reminded me of growing up as a child in the country. As we quietly paddled up the stream, we passed tiny turtles basking in the sun. The stream twisted and turned through mountains of lush green trees and tall grass that acted as curtains of privacy.
The sense of tranquility we felt was enhanced by solitude. There was not another soul in sight. The time had come to put my plan into action: we removed our bathing suit tops. The warmth of the sun beating down on our bare breasts was even more wonderful than I'd hoped it would be, somehow making us feel free and strong. Mom and I giggled like little girls, hoping not to get caught. Ashley of course, was sweetly innocent, unaware of anything unusual.
This is where the epiphany lies, five years later. What a memory we created that day, having no idea of the depth and meaning it would later hold for each of us, mother, daughter and granddaughter, celebrating our womanhood and feminity. This special memory helped to arm my mom and me with strength and courage to face the battle with breast cancer waiting ghostlike in our future on that glorious day.
I told the story of the canoe trip to my surgeon as I lay in the cold, sterile operating room, before I slipped into a deep anaesthetic sleep. When I woke my right breast would be gone. Nine months later, my left. I was so grateful to have the memory of our canoe trip to remind me of a part of my womanhood that was about to be cut away from me forever.
For Mom too, a series of three separate breast cancer diagnoses followed, and continue to haunt her as she lies alone in the dark of night. A legacy of breast cancer has plagued the maternal side of our family down the years - Ashley's great-grandmother, her grandmother, great aunt, and now her mother.
Wooden paddles in hand, we launched the beginning of what one day we would come to look upon as our own dragon boat race, three generations on the same breast cancer team we did not know we'd be later joining. We glided smoothly across the calm warm water. The only sounds came from birds singing, frogs croaking in the tall grass on the banks of the stream, and the trickle of droplets from our paddles splashing onto the surface of the water. The sweet country air reminded me of growing up as a child in the country. As we quietly paddled up the stream, we passed tiny turtles basking in the sun. The stream twisted and turned through mountains of lush green trees and tall grass that acted as curtains of privacy.
The sense of tranquility we felt was enhanced by solitude. There was not another soul in sight. The time had come to put my plan into action: we removed our bathing suit tops. The warmth of the sun beating down on our bare breasts was even more wonderful than I'd hoped it would be, somehow making us feel free and strong. Mom and I giggled like little girls, hoping not to get caught. Ashley of course, was sweetly innocent, unaware of anything unusual.
This is where the epiphany lies, five years later. What a memory we created that day, having no idea of the depth and meaning it would later hold for each of us, mother, daughter and granddaughter, celebrating our womanhood and feminity. This special memory helped to arm my mom and me with strength and courage to face the battle with breast cancer waiting ghostlike in our future on that glorious day.
I told the story of the canoe trip to my surgeon as I lay in the cold, sterile operating room, before I slipped into a deep anaesthetic sleep. When I woke my right breast would be gone. Nine months later, my left. I was so grateful to have the memory of our canoe trip to remind me of a part of my womanhood that was about to be cut away from me forever.
For Mom too, a series of three separate breast cancer diagnoses followed, and continue to haunt her as she lies alone in the dark of night. A legacy of breast cancer has plagued the maternal side of our family down the years - Ashley's great-grandmother, her grandmother, great aunt, and now her mother.
And that is where my story begins......
CHAPTERS:
Prologue: Our Canoe Trip
1. Like Mother, Like Daughter - A Family Legacy
2. The Dark Cloud
3. Young & Breastless - My New Normal
4. Sexy Girl
5. My Twin & The Beautiful Women Project
6. Images of Courage
7. I Surrender It
8. My Gift Wrapped in Barbed Wire
9. One Cup & Three Quarters
10. Reflections of a Woman
11. Photos: Before, During and After Reconstruction
1. Like Mother, Like Daughter - A Family Legacy
2. The Dark Cloud
3. Young & Breastless - My New Normal
4. Sexy Girl
5. My Twin & The Beautiful Women Project
6. Images of Courage
7. I Surrender It
8. My Gift Wrapped in Barbed Wire
9. One Cup & Three Quarters
10. Reflections of a Woman
11. Photos: Before, During and After Reconstruction