The BDN Opinion section operates independently and does not set news policies or contribute to reporting or editing articles elsewhere in the newspaper or on bangordailynews.com.
Susan Young is the Bangor Daily News opinion editor.
I had a mammogram on Thursday. Female readers may give a knowing nod and feel a twinge of painful recognition of the annual ritual for women of a certain age. For my male readers, imagine some of your most sensitive parts flattened between two large plastic boxes, as you are reminded to hold still so the technologist can get a good image. It turns out I was unknowingly “celebrating” Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I’ll get the results of my mammogram next week. Thankfully, past screenings have not turned up any anomalies.
Why do women put themselves through this uncomfortable experience? Because breast cancer screenings save lives. Mammograms may be uncomfortable, but they can help detect cancer early so that treatment can begin before cancer spreads and becomes more deadly.
I dutifully show up for my routine screenings, but I’ll admit I’ve downplayed breast cancer in the past. So much money has been raised for breast cancer research and the disease is so treatable, I’ve thought.
But, sobering statistics and the heartbreaking experiences of friends, acquaintances and people I don’t even know are poignant reminders that breast cancer remains a serious threat to the health, wellbeing, and even lives, of women.
After skin cancer, breast cancer is the most common cancer among women in the U.S., accounting for nearly a third of annual cancer diagnoses each year. According to the American Cancer Society, nearly 300,000 new cases of breast cancer will be diagnosed in women this year. More than 43,700 women in the U.S. will die from breast cancer.
American women have a one in eight chance of being diagnosed with breast cancer. A man’s lifetime risk of breast cancer is about 1 in 833. The median age of a breast cancer diagnosis in women is 62.
Although the death rate from breast cancer has declined for decades, breast cancer is still the second leading cause of cancer death in women, behind lung cancer. The decline in breast cancer mortality is attributed to an increase in early detection and better treatment.
As is often the case in the U.S., the numbers are worse for women of color. Black women are more likely to develop breast cancer at a younger age than white women and they are more likely to die from the disease. Breast cancer is the leading cause of cancer-related death in the United States for Black and Hispanic women.
Here’s a bit of good news. Nearly two-thirds of breast cancers are diagnosed while they are localized, which is when they are easier to treat. According to the National Breast Cancer Foundation, the five-year survival rate for all types of breast cancer is 91 percent. If the cancer is found when it is localized, the survival rate is 99 percent. Which is all the more reason to have a routine mammogram if you are over 40. I am thankful, and lucky, that my health insurance covers an annual mammogram.
There are more than 4 million breast cancer survivors in the U.S. They include several women who have played significant roles in my life. A college roommate who has traveled the world to improve the lives of women. My daughter’s field hockey coach who survived cancer numerous times and goes through life with a smile, a joke, and a kind word for everyone. The restaurant owner who unabashedly opened my eyes to the rigors of cancer treatment and the fact that the treatment, and its side effects, last for years.
It is these women – and the many others whose lives were tragically cut short by breast cancer – that I thought of when I showed up at the screening center (remembering, proudly, not to wear deodorant, which contains aluminum particles that can mimic the calcifications that are early signs of breast cancer), donned a cloth gown and stood awkwardly in front of the massive imaging machine.
Man, I hate this, I thought through gritted teeth. But, it is so worth it.
