By Diane Proulx Guerrera  »  It's Friday, the children have just left for school. I rush to take my shower because I have a plane to catch. My husband and I have finally managed to escape for a weekend alone in New York City. Hurriedly, I soap my body. As I elevate my left arm to wash my breast, my fingers brush over a small lump. My heart squeezes and skips a beat. 

This can’t be what I’m thinking. There’s no time. I put a call through to my husband and we both agree to look into this when we return. It is almost as though we hope that by not giving it too much importance it will go away. Little do we realize that in the passing of that moment our lives will never be the same. 

By the following Thursday, we are both at the Oncology Department of the Jewish General Hospital where I have just undergone a biopsy. This is an Easter weekend that my family and close friends spend in the unbearable waiting for the results. I gravitate between convincing myself that it is impossible that I have cancer and the despair and fright that I am about to die a terrible death at the hands of this merciless disease. 

Monday, my oncologist confirms the dreaded result, that I have cancer. My insides are shattered as I break down and cry. My husband Sal seems even more devastated, if that is possible. We both agree that I undergo any available treatment that may cure me, no matter how difficult. 

The desperation I feel is not born only of my fear of the cancer, but also because we have a handicapped daughter at home. How will my family cope with this if I am not well enough or God forbid, if I should die? Our daily life has never been easy and is already filled with problems that have no easy solutions. I have been through enough! 

I am 38 years old, old enough to know what I have and young enough to enjoy it. So why should my body betray me now! There is no pain, no symptom, and no illness. I have been caught completely unaware. There is seemingly nothing I could have done to avoid this. I am left to face another horrendous obstacle in my life. 

Just then, I turn a corner and meet a remarkable woman, a cancer survivor who has been down this road before. She puts me in touch with the ‘’Hope and Cope’’ support group for cancer patients of the Jewish General Hospital. That is when I realize I am not a solitary victim of this disease. There are others, and most encouraging of all, there are many survivors who have had worse cases than I. 

This group is like a light at the end of a dark tunnel for Sal and I. They guide us through the operation, chemotherapy and radiotherapy. At the darkest time of my life, I discover something inspiring and amazing. I am now a part of a fellowship of resilient survivors. Together we are a powerful force, a living source of courage and hope. 

Yes, I have had cancer and I am presently cured. Yes, it may recur. But, the good news is that the experience has changed who I am in a positive way. I have felt the strength of love of my husband and family and friends supporting me all the way. I have learned that my coping abilities are as limitless as my courage to survive each day the best way I can. Death will find me eventually, but in the meantime the cancer scar above my heart serves to remind me to appreciate the good things in life and make each day count and most of all to be good to myself. 

“Hope and Cope” may be the name of a support group, but it is also the key to dealing with life and death. I knew I was doing all right the first time I surprised myself laughing after I was diagnosed with cancer. And what helps me the most is helping others who face this same frightening journey. 

I hope that some of this testimonial may help even one person face cancer. You are not alone. Reach out to your nearest cancer support group, they know where you’re at every step of the way. 

Inspired by the wonderful support of “Hope and Cope”, my husband Sal and I decided to found the CURE Foundation so that we could also help make a difference in the on going battle against breast cancer. CURE has greatly enriched our lives and made us feel that we are contributing an element of hope in the lives of those who still must face this dreaded disease. 

How you can help: CURE’s main annual event is National Denim Day, held in May. Canadian businesses and organizations are urged to participate by allowing their employees to wear denim and/or a pink flower ribbon to work in exchange of a $5 donation to the CURE Foundation.  
In 11 years, CURE has helped raise over $10 million for breast cancer research, education and equipment.  For more information, call 1-888-592-2873, or visit www.curefoundation.com.