Happy anniversary to me. One year ago, I had a mastectomy.

Just saying that makes me feel like I'm in some kind of 12-step program. "Hello, my name is Julie Weight and I'm a cancer survivor."

I don't feel like a cancer survivor, although I'm not sure what cancer survivors are supposed to feel like. Every time I look in the mirror, move my left arm, get dressed and go to the doctor for a checkup, I'm reminded that I did, indeed, have cancer. In spite of all that, it's rather easy to forget I'm a cancer survivor.

I've been invited to cancer support group meetings. I don't go, for a couple reasons.

The primary reason is, I feel incredibly lucky. I didn't have radiation therapy and I didn't have chemotherapy. It's difficult for me to relate to women who've had much more severe experiences. I also don't know what I can offer them.

The secondary reason is I don't want to be my cancer. Ten years from now, I don't want to be sitting in support groups, being identified by my cancer and the number of years I've survived it.

So why am I sharing my experience via this blog?

I want women to know the most important thing they can do is pay attention, do the monthly self exams, get the annual mammogram and make sure that if you are one of the 1 in 8 women who will be diagnosed with breast cancer that it is diagnosed and treated in the early stages, when you have the best chance of good outcomes.

I want women to know that losing a breast isn't the worst thing that can happen to them. You will never look the same, that's true. You will never feel the same, either. That isn't a good reason to avoid self exams and screening diagnostic procedures.

I want women to know they have time to get a second opinion, find a physician they're comfortable with and discuss treatment options. With few exceptions, breast cancer isn't a fast-moving cancer. If it takes a month or two to find another doctor or have a few more studies, it isn't going to make a big difference in your diagnosis and treatment plan. However, don't take that to mean you should avoid moving forward if you have suspicious lumps or an abnormal mammogram. Early detection and treatment is vital. However, had I stayed with the first medical oncologist I saw, I would have undergone chemotherapy. The second medical oncologist had a completely opposite opinion and because I was, at that point, completely confused, sent the case to the Tumor Board. Do I sometimes get nervous about not having chemo and wondering how that will affect my long-term outcome? Of course I do. Then I remind myself that an entire board of specialists looked at the record, reviewed the slides and unanimously determined that chemotherapy wasn't necessary. Make sure you're informed, ask the right questions and if you don't feel comfortable with the doctor, find another one. (My primary doctor tells me he feels honored I still go to him because I've changed doctors so many times!)

Probably one of the most meaningful things anyone told me as I was going through this was to take notice of the number of women who show up at breast cancer walkathons and other activities. (Thank you, Donna!) They don't have pancreatic cancer survivor get-togethers for a reason. Breast cancer is survivable and we have a large sisterhood to draw strength from. When my medical oncologist took my family history and saw that I have lost one uncle to pancreatic cancer and another to glioblastoma multiforme, she said to me: "I'll bet you're feeling pretty lucky right about now!"

Yes, I feel lucky.

(Please feel free to contact me if you need reassurance, want to talk to someone who's BT/DT - or whatever!)