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The following is an Editorial Resource from YourTotalHealth.

survivor

A Funny Kind of Strength

Patricia Gani, 49
Years since diagnosis: 0

“I’m Patricia. My daughter is nine weeks old. . . Oops! Wrong support group.” “My name is Patricia and I’ve been separated for. . . Oops! Wrong support group.” “Hi, my name is Patricia, and I’m an alcoholic. . . Okay, I made that one up.” 

Life After Breast CancerWhen Patricia Gani recently joined a breast cancer support group, that’s how she introduced herself—to a chorus of giggles. After she was diagnosed with stage II breast cancer in March 2008, she expected to feel many things—frightened, sad, worried. But she didn’t expect to be so... funny. 

“Having breast cancer allowed me to discover my inner comedienne,” says Gani, 49, a divorced mother of three children and a senior director of human resources for a cancer research biotechnology company in Boston. ”For me, humor is a coping mechanism: If I’m being funny and goofy, I don’t feel the fear or sadness as much. This diagnosis is so emotion-laden, and I’m not someone who likes to cry in front of other people. Poking fun at myself is a way to take the pressure off a scene where I’d otherwise expose myself.” 

Her breast cancer was caught on a screening MRI just six months after she’d had a normal mammogram. Her internist had advised her to have an MRI because her two sisters—one of whom is her twin—have had breast cancer. Oddly enough, the three women are the first in their extended family, which is originally from a French-speaking Jewish enclave in Egypt, to have been diagnosed with breast cancer. 

Laughter in the midst of treatment
In May, Gani had a lumpectomy and breast reduction—“I was very large breasted—now I’m just a D cup,” she quips. As she was being wheeled into surgery, the anesthesiologist put in an IV line. “Three minutes later, I looked at him and said ‘Whoa! What did you give me? I am as high as a kite’,” she recalls. His response: saline. 

After the surgery, Gani’s treatment includes 16 rounds of chemotherapy, followed by radiation, and she’ll take Herceptin for a year. “The fatigue and nausea from the chemo is very debilitating, and chemotherapy affects cognitive function—that’s my excuse for everything now,” she says. “My older children—my teenagers—have completely run away from this but my nine-year-old son came with me to get my wig and said, ‘I’m thinking layers for you . . .’ My wig actually looks really great, better than my real hair. A friend told me I’ve never looked better so I’m chuckling and thinking, ‘Well, cancer suits me.’ Now I have boobs that stand up and I never have a bad hair day anymore.” 

Joining her sisters
On a more serious note, she admits, “I’ve had moments of deep despair. When I was diagnosed, I was so obsessed with the thought of not being able to usher my children into their adulthood and because I’m a mental case, I spent many, many hours doing research and trying to understand survival statistics. The five-year survival rate for people with my profile [triple positive breast cancer, no mutations in BRCA 1 or 2] is anywhere from 82 to 91 percent, according to my research, and this was before Herceptin was available. When I mentioned this to the genetics specialist, she sort of waved her hand in the air and said, ‘These statistics are obsolete as soon as they’re printed.’ She said that if she had breast cancer she would want it to be HER-2 positive because Herceptin is such an effective drug. My oncologist said that HER-2 positive breast cancer presents a ‘therapeutic opportunity’ these days.” 

Today, Gani’s sisters, who were diagnosed six and eight years ago, are cancer-free, and she fully expects to join them. “My thinking is: If we have a genetic predisposition to develop breast cancer, maybe we have a genetic predisposition to survive it, too,” she says. “I do believe I’m going to survive this, and I’m so grateful that I have access to such good medicine. In a different era or a different country, this would probably have ended my life.”

By: Stacey Colino

What's Next: 10 Years Later

 

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