Whether it’s heartfelt anecdotes or inspiring triumphs, the Scarves Dot Net gals love to share stories — especially when they’re incredibly touching. That’s why we’re starting a new series called SDN Spotlight. From influential bloggers to community leaders, we’ve scoured the blogosphere for the most inspiring men and women.

Jacki Donaldson is an Ohio native now living in sunny Florida. A mother of two boys, she works from home as an editor and writer, and runs her own business — JustEdits.org. Since 2004, Jacki has been sharing her cancer experience with readers on My Breast Cancer Blog. In addition to a career in writing, breast cancer has launched her into a life of healthy eating, vigorous exercise, and a big appreciation for the little things in life.

My boys, ages 12 and 9, and my sister’s girls, ages 8 and 5.

SDN: When and how was your breast cancer discovered, and how did you and your family deal with the news?

A few days before Thanksgiving in 2004, my hand landed on the lump in my left breast while washing in the shower. I knew it was breast cancer because it was unlike anything I had ever felt. I had been aware of my breasts for a long time because they had always been dense and lumpy; I had a breast reduction in 1996, and the surgeon who removed four pounds of tissue said the tissue was so dense, he had trouble taking some out and leaving some in. I always wondered how I would ever distinguish between normal lumps and abnormal lumps — until I felt that small, round, hard mass under my fingertips. It was like a frozen green pea, and even though everyone in my family suspected it was nothing serious, I was sure it was cancer. It was. I was 34 years old.

SDN: Can you briefly describe your journey as you battled breast cancer?

My first stop post-lump-discovery was to see my OB/GYN. He sent me for a mammogram, which did not show anything suspicious — this is not surprising because mammograms often do not detect cancer in young women with dense tissue. A follow-up ultrasound did show the mass, which was solid. “It is not a cyst,” said the doctor who did the test. “I want this out and in a jar.” I asked if it could be cancer. “Yes,” she said.

A needle biopsy came next, then a phone call the following day from the surgeon who did the procedure. “Unfortunately, cancer cells were found,” he told me, and that is when my crazy journey began. There was a lumpectomy and a horrible allergic reaction to the tape that bandaged my skin, a port surgery, four infusions of Adriamycin/Cytoxan dose-dense chemotherapy (given every two weeks instead of every three weeks), growth hormone injections, two hospitalizations, one blood transfusion, six weeks of radiation, one year of Herceptin infusions (given every three weeks), physical therapy, psychotherapy, antidepressant therapy, port removal — Whew! Now, eight years later, I visit my medical oncologist and radiation oncologist once a year, and I get an annual mammogram.

Early on, I was sure I would die and leave my babies, who were almost 4 years old and 18 months old at the time of my diagnosis, and I had some very dark and lonely moments. Now, though, I am able to look back on all of the horror and view it as something not all that bad. I try to use my cancer experience as a vehicle to better my life and spread hope for others.

8 years cancer-free

SDN: You were recently informed that you have zero chance of your cancer returning. Can you explain the emotions you felt when you heard the news?

I was stunned when my doctor told me my cancer is not coming back. I was not sure when I heard her make the declaration that anyone could honestly say such a thing, so I asked for clarification. What I learned is that my type of cancer (stage I, grade 2, no lymph node involvement, ER/PR-negative, HER2/neu-positive), while very aggressive, has only been shown to recur within five years. “If it does not come back in five years, it is not coming back,” my doc said. Now, she did not say that I am forever immune to all cancers, just that I will never have a recurrence of the very same cancer. I am beyond thrilled about this.

SDN: Who was your biggest support through all of this? What advice can you give for those who have a loved one facing this fight?

I had a husband at home, a mom in my neighborhood, and a sister three miles away; these three people were key to my survival — so were friends and family members near and far, the bunches of moms in the MOMS Club I belonged to for a few years, the Chemo Angels who sent me cards and letters, and I could go on and on.

My advice to those with a loved one fighting cancer is to do what these people did for me — sit with the patient during chemo treatments, deliver meals, send cozy socks and brownies and books, babysit kids, and most importantly, do not say, “Let me know if you need help.” Just show up and help. Oh, and saying to a cancer patient, “Everything will be okay,” is not always a good pick-me-up. Saying, “This really sucks,” sometimes means a whole lot more.

Before shaving my head, I put my hair into three ponytails and cut them off.

SDN: You said that losing your hair was even worse than surgery, chemo, and radiation. Can you walk us through your hair transformation and the effect it had on you?

I wanted nothing more than to not lose my hair, which, about 11 days after my first chemo dose, starting pulling out in clumps. Despite my best efforts to hang onto my locks, I surrendered one February day and allowed my then 4-year-old to assist my husband while he shaved my head. It brought some relief — falling-out hair was painful; each strand felt like it weighed a ton, and my scalp was super sore — but it was mostly crushing. Losing my hair stripped me of normalcy. Not only was I sick, but I also looked nothing like myself, and that was hard to swallow.

Fortunately, I had prepared for this dreaded scenario and was armed with a human hair wig that matched my color, texture, and length. It was so seemingly real that a neighbor one day told my sister, “It is so great Jacki did not lose her hair!” That comment helped a lot, and I spent the rest of my bald days confident with my cover-up. I wish I had been bold and courageous enough to bare my noggin in public, but I was not. Sometimes, I would show the real deal at home, but I felt most comfortable when I looked like my old self, and that required a wig, which I now send to women who, like me, find hair loss a traumatic experience.

Forgot pink apparel; this is my favorite cancer t-shirt.

SDN: Last year, during Breast Cancer Awareness Month, you declined all “pink” offers and published a series of “Raw October” posts on your blog, featuring detailed cancer information and personal interviews. What inspired you to make this change?

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I bought into pink, but that is because I did not really know any better. When I started realizing that people were profiting from pink, often via unhealthy products, I decided I would not align myself with the color or the campaigns that compromise real progress in the fight against breast cancer. Does fried chicken in a pink bucket do anything more than boost food sales? Nope. Sure, perhaps a portion of proceeds go to some cancer charity, but often, the total is not enough to make any real difference. And fried chicken is not what women trying to minimize cancer risk should be consuming. I prefer fundraising for and donating directly to worthy causes.

SDN: You have used your blog as a personal outlet and a source of inspiration for others going through similar situations. What are you hoping that other women take away from the blog?

At first, I did not even know my blog would help others. I launched it after my husband suggested I log my progress online so family and friends could check in at their convenience. My posts were simply a means of communication. Then, they became a form of therapy. Journaling my hopes, fears, milestones, and setbacks helped ease my anxiety and soothed my soul. The magic of reaching other women was an unexpected surprise. Today, my blog averages about 200 unique worldwide visitors a day — if only a few of these people find a take away from my 8-year-long story, then I am happy.

A special thanks again to Jacki for being a part of our SDN Spotlight project and sharing her inspiring story! 

Whether it’s heartfelt anecdotes or inspiring triumphs, the Scarves Dot Net gals love to share stories — especially when they’re incredibly touching. That’s why we’re starting a new series called SDN Spotlight. From influential bloggers to community leaders, we’ve scoured the blogosphere for the most inspiring men and women.

So far, we’ve spoken with Barbara Jacoby, Angelo Merendino, and Ann Silberman about their experiences with breast cancer. Today we’re happy to bring you yet another Spotlight interview with blogger, mother, and educator, Nancy Stordahl. Nancy was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2010, just two years after losing her mother to the same disease. Today, Nancy shares her experience on both sides of breast cancer on her blog, Nancy’s Point. When she isn’t blogging or immersed in her advocacy work, Nancy enjoys reading, traveling, and gardening.

SDN: You lost your mother to breast cancer in 2008. Could you tell us a little bit more about her and her battle?

Nancy: Breast cancer rudely and abruptly intruded into my life on my birthday in 2004 — the day my mother discovered a lump in her breast. I often refer to cancer as the very unwelcome “uninvited guest” that showed up at my birthday party and never went away. My life forever changed that day.

My mother’s diagnosis came shortly after, and from that day on, my life began following a new and very different path. She underwent a lumpectomy, followed by radiation. After thinking we had successfully held the cancer beast at bay, in 2007, we were devastated to learn her cancer had metastasized to her liver. She died of metastatic breast cancer in March of 2008.

SDN: In 2010, you also discovered that you have breast cancer. How did you deal with the news, and how has your mother’s history affected your journey?

Nancy: While still grieving, in April of 2010, I was diagnosed with breast cancer as well. And like my mother, I tested positive for the BRCA2 gene mutation (it’s important to note we did not know about my mother’s BRCA status at the time of her initial diagnosis). I was stunned, not so much by the diagnosis itself, but by the timing and wrongly assuming I would at least have more time.

I dealt with the news by doing what I always do when I need an outlet — I started writing about it. I had been in the process of writing about grief and breast cancer from a daughter’s perspective, and suddenly things changed dramatically. Now I had a new cancer story to tell — mine. Writing was how I coped then, and it’s still how I cope today.

My BRCA2 positive status directly impacted my course of treatment. In June of 2010, I had a bilateral mastectomy, began the reconstruction process, and shortly thereafter began chemotherapy. Later, I was also advised to consider a bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy and hysterectomy. I chose to have both surgeries.

Naturally, I turned to writing once again, in order to maintain my sanity and sense of control and also hopefully to be a resource for other women with or without cancer. I write candidly about all of these things and more via my blog.

SDN: You have been on both sides of the spectrum. Is there any advice you can give to breast cancer patients and to those with loved ones fighting, too?

Nancy: I’m not sure one can really prepare for either one. The best advice I can offer is to do the best you can in both cases. No surprise there, right?

If you are in the caregiver role, don’t try to do it all. It’s just not possible, anyway. Take care of yourself too. And remember the most important gift you’re giving your loved one is your presence. Some of the most painful memories I have of my mother’s illness are also some of my most treasured ones.

If you are a breast cancer patient, I try to emphasize the same advice through my blog — do the best you can. Try hard not to compare your experience to anyone else’s. You are entitled to your experience and your truths, whatever those might be. Something about that is very empowering.

SDN: You wrote a post titled Ten Things Wrong with the Pink Ribbon. Could you talk a little more about your thoughts on breast cancer awareness and pink culture?

Nancy: Boy could I ever! (On a side note — when I began blogging, I didn’t anticipate taking on this kind of advocacy role. Things sort of evolved in that arena.) But seriously, there is much to be discussed. I believe the pink ribbon morphed into something no one ever expected it to become. Somewhere along the way, it became a hugely successful marketing tool and that’s the problem — things got out of control. In a nutshell, the million dollar question is this: Who is really profiting from all of this pink and all this ribbon-ing? The whole notion that breast cancer is so tied into shopping is problematic.

Additionally, there’s also the implied message that there is a certain way “to do” breast cancer that is too often portrayed (intentionally or unintentionally) in today’s pink ribbon culture. Generally, you see the “happy ending” stories and constantly hear metaphors such as the “brave warrior.” Many resent such labels and implied expectations.

Also, such messages too often leave the metastatic breast cancer community in the shadows. It is terribly ironic to me that the segment of the breast cancer community in need of our greatest support so often feels shunned. No one seems to want to talk about or listen to their stories. All of these things are troublesome.

However, I believe change is coming. In fact, it’s happening right now. People are questioning everything about “pink” more and more these days. People are demanding greater transparency because they are realizing the right to know where their charitable dollars are going before buying a pink ribbon product, and what those dollars will be spent on.

Another important change is that the “rubber stamping” of the breast cancer experience is hopefully coming to an end. Everyone is entitled to their own unique cancer experience. And the most important long overdue change of all might be the fact that finally the voices of those living with metastatic breast cancer are being acknowledged and listened to. We still have a long way to go here, but again, I’m feeling more optimistic than I was even a year ago.

I’m actually pretty excited about the discussion going on about moving beyond pink ribbons and simplistic awareness campaigns. This discussion seems to be gaining momentum. I’m both humbled and honored to be playing a small role in changing this conversation.

SDN: Are there any other assumptions or misconceptions about breast cancer and metastatic cancer that you would like to shed some light on?

Nancy: Perhaps the biggest misconception of all is that breast cancer is the “good cancer.” So much about this disease has been misrepresented in recent years and there’s plenty of finger-pointing to go around, but ultimately, what I want people to remember is the fact that breast cancer can and does metastasize in 25-30% of cases — no matter what stage it is diagnosed at. Breast cancer is still too often deadly, and in fact, roughly 40,000 lives are still lost to this disease every year in the United States alone. This number has stayed basically unchanged for years now. Too often breast cancer is portrayed as being “not that bad” and completely “curable” if you just “catch it” early. Of course early detection is important, but there’s more to the story than the simple sound bites often imply.

Another hugely important point I wish to make is that the portion of dollars being spent on research is small when you consider the vast amount of money being raked in. Of this relatively small portion, an even smaller fraction is spent specifically on metastatic breast cancer research. In my mind, this is completely unacceptable.

Of course, this leads right back to that million dollar question: Who is really profiting from all of this pinking?

SDN: You have shown so much strength, and we admire your list of resources on grieving. What or who has helped you through the loss of your mother and recently your best friend?

Nancy: Well, my family, of course, has been a tremendous source of support, especially my husband. Without my family’s support, I’d be a mess! And my friends have been great too.

The biggest surprise to me has been the support of my online friends. I have met some amazing people through blogging — some of them fellow bloggers and some of them readers. They inspire me and help me to cope on a daily basis. I consider them to be dear friends. Thank you for mentioning my friend Rachel. She died from metastatic breast cancer in February of this year, and she is greatly missed by many.

SDN: You have used your blog as a source of inspiration for others going through similar situations. What are you hoping that others take away from the blog?

Nancy: I started blogging in order to openly share my experiences about loss, grief, my cancer diagnosis, BRCA, reconstruction, and all aspects of a cancer diagnosis. From day one, I wanted to share candidly. Otherwise, what’s the point? I strive to make my blog an informative, helpful, and empowering resource. I encourage interaction and open dialogue. Ultimately, I hope it’s a welcoming place where others can find support and a safe place to share, vent, or do whatever they need to do.

Mostly, I want others to always remember that they are never alone in this maze that is cancer, and that they are entitled to their own unique path and their own truths.

To hear more about Nancy’s story, be sure to visit www.nancyspoint.com. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.