October - The Month of Awareness

Every October, the world turns pink. Ribbons, fundraisers, ads reminding us to schedule our mammograms. It’s all important. Especially if you are someone it has affected.

How my story (and my book) began:

"Hi Ruthie, this is Shelly from Midwest Breast Center.” 

I'll never forget the phone call.  It was January 15th.  Four days prior I had gone in for my annual mammogram.   When I received the call, I was not concerned at all. I had received the same phone call in the past for previous mammograms so I didn't feel alarmed in the least.  The conversations were quick and easy. "Hi Ruthie, this is Shelly from Midwest Breast.  Your mammogram shows some abnormalities so we would like you to come back in for a few more pictures."  Although I have never been good at doing self-examinations, I know my body fairly well and hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.   I set another appointment with her, trying to keep from affecting my work schedule.  I saw this as just a minor inconvenience to my schedule, not anything to be concerned about. Right?   I was confident that I would go in and they would assure me everything was fine.  They would tell me once again that I have dense breast tissue and it's just harder to get a good reading.  I had gone through this before so now I was pretty sure how the conversation was going to go.  

Eight years ago, I got the phone call no one wants to receive. “We found something.”  And this time everything wasn’t fine.  Those words ended up changing my entire life.

The Brutal Truth

Breast cancer was horrible. It was pain. It was exhaustion. It was losing a part of myself, both physically and emotionally. It was looking in the mirror after chemo and barely recognizing myself.

It was mourning my hair, my energy, and some days, my hope. It was watching my husband support me and knowing he was going through his own hell.

And it’s not just the treatment. It was the way cancer quietly creeps into your identity. It’s the whispere“What if it comes back?” that’s always there  even when you’re told you’re cancer-free.

What I Learned in the Fire

Cancer stripped me of me.  But I learned how much grit the human spirit actually has. I learned that beauty isn’t long hair or smooth skin—it’s showing up to life even when you feel broken. I learned how deeply I needed people. (And if you know my story, you know I’ve spent much of my life thinking I had to do it all alone.)

And I learned that there’s a strange kind of freedom in surviving. 

Why I’m Sharing This Now

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. You’ll see the campaigns. You’ll see the shirts, the bumper stickers, the commercials. And all of that matters.  Because awareness saves lives. 

Research saves lives. But what matters most is action.

Schedule your mammogram. Do your self-exams. Don’t ignore the small nagging feeling that something isn’t right. And if you’re walking this journey right now, please hear me: you are stronger than you think, and you are not alone.

My Promise

Eight years later, I’m here. I have scars. Changed, absolutely. But I’m alive.

So this October, while the world turns pink, I’ll be thinking about anyone going through this journey.  And if you want to reach out and talk, please do!!

Much love to everyone!

Ruthie ❤️