Five Lessons I Didn't Learn From Breast Cancer (And One Big One I Did) by Shelley Lewis

This cancer survivor’s book does not promote cancer as a spiritual gift. This is not a book filled with ‘Look on the bright side’ advice, Lewis says. This is . . . for women who don’t have and don’t want a spiritual makeover after breast cancer . . . and don’t expect breast cancer to fix what’s wrong with them. Furthermore, My only growth was the one removed by my surgeon. Her message throughout is that breast cancer can’t change who you are, it confirms who you are. It did, however, mean shedding illusions, including her self-image as still young with endless options. Ultimately, cancer meant clarification, not transformation. She organizes solid advice, including tips on finding Dr. Right, helping others to help you, and being wary of the attitude police, into easily handled chapters. Throughout a straightforward, fast-paced book, her clarity constitutes reassurance, while her ironic, sometimes painfully self-aware wit is a magnet for those seeking an alternative to the I’m-so-grateful-to-my-breast-cancer literature. --Whitney Scott --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Owner Reviews, Ratings, Comments and Criticism
Have you received a breast cancer diagnosis? Got a friend who has? Before you make another move, read this funny and truthful lowdown from Shelley Lewis, whose emotional viewpoint matches mine so precisely I can't shake the feeling that I should've written it myself (after all, I went through this a year before she did). Unlike just about every other book on the breast cancer "experience," with its pretty pink cover and its crapola about how dealing with breast cancer will make you a "better person" (just like it supposedly made its author!), Lewis gets down to the real nitty-gritty. Namely: Breast cancer, at least for some people, isn't a "spiritual growth program," a "journey" or a "gift." It's not the ultimate opportunity for the perfect boob makeover. It's not necessarily going to turn you into Lance Armstrong and an inspiration to everyone. It's just a DISEASE--a scary, upsetting DISEASE that makes you hope you can get through the treatment so you can get back to your life--if at all possible. Lewis tells you the truth about breast cancer: it's OK to feel however you do, optimistic or lousy. That you didn't get this disease because somehow you asked for it (and if someone implies you did, you can cheerfully tell them where to stick it). That having a bad or negative attitude or feeling depressed on occasion is perfectly normal, and it won't kill you. That whatever decisions you make about how to deal with your disease are OK, so long as you are the one driving the bus--even if that means putting yourself in the hands of a team of physicians you utterly trust and doing whatever they say. There are no do's-and-don'ts here about chemo, radiation, hair loss, breast reconstruction, anything--the message here is that each person's situation is unique, and each choice is uniquely one's own. You get to pick what's right for you, even if it's not right for anyone else. The book also offers useful advice as to how to support people with breast cancer, and how people with breast cancer can ask for the kind of support they need. There's also a little critical time spent on examining the whole "pinkapalooza" phenomenon and how breast cancer became the ultimate poster-child of "cause marketing," following in the footsteps of the AIDS red-ribbon movement. Lewis looks a bit more kindly on this than I do--I would happily dump "Breast Cancer Awareness Month" any day, if all it means is people buying a container of yogurt and thinking they've done something noble. But she at least points out that it's wise to question where the profits from "pink-ribbon products" truly go, and aims some well-deserved snark at the multitude of Web sites out there peddling breast cancer teddy bears, angels and fairies, essentially saying that if that stuff makes you want to barf worse than any chemo could, it's OK. One caution: This book best applies to those whose prognosis is fairly good, who are just going to have to deal with a lot of misery before getting out of the woods. If you have breast cancer and your prognosis is poor, you may want to have a friend read this first and decide whether or not it's right for you or which parts of it you may find helpful, and you may find another voice more supportive and comforting than Lewis's. But if it's looking as if you'll be OK if you just follow a reasonable-if-hellish program of treatment (you get to decide what's reasonable), this book is for you, and belongs on your shelf next to DR. SUSAN LOVE'S BREAST BOOK and Suzanne Strempek Shea's excellent SONGS FOR A LEAD-LINED ROOM.