Deb with her son Josh.

I had had a lump in my right breast for some time. It had been diagnosed as a cyst. It had always behaved in a predictable manner in that it was somewhat painful with my cycle. I had my son in 2000 when I was almost 40 and it took me four years to realize that the “cyst” no longer became painful with my cycle. I had an ultrasound and although the cyst was still present, there was a suspicious lump beside it. I went for an aspirate, and then a biopsy. It came back as cancer. I was fortunate in that it was an early form of breast cancer called Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS). However, when I heard the words I had no idea what it meant and only knew that I had cancer. My surgeon gave me a book to read, and I had a conversation with a friend of a friend who had gone through breast cancer herself. Halfway through the conversation I mentioned that I had DCIS and she said this changes everything and that I was one of the lucky ones. This all took place within 24 hours of getting the results of my biopsy. My options were lumpectomy and radiation or mastectomy. My son was only four years old at the time and the thought of surgery and the ensuing recovery were overwhelming. I decided to have the lumpectomy and radiation.

It has been eight years now and no recurrence. I go through moments, particularly when I’m going for my diagnostic mammograms, where the fear rears its ugly head. There were many times very soon after my treatment that I wished I had done the surgery since I still had my breasts and felt the risk would always be there. I remind myself that I made the right decision for me at that time. I was also very fortunate to have attended the Centre for Integrated Healing in Vancouver (which is now called Inspire Health). It really helped support me through my treatment and was truly inspirational.

I have walked and run in the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure every year since my diagnosis with my sister and my mom. I didn’t want to wear a pink survivor shirt in the first few years – it felt too close and I was still a little raw. In the past three years, I have worn the pink shirt to show how many of us survivors are out there and how well we are doing. It is still very emotional, especially when I read all the reasons why everyone is participating but so very positive as well.

This year I plan to have my son join me.

I am 25 years old and was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 23. At this point in my life, I have endured eight rounds of chemotherapy, 29 radiation treatments and continue to receive treatment every three weeks. On Feb. 9, 2012, I had a complete bilateral mastectomy and reconstructive surgery. The way I look at it, “no cancer, new boobs.”

Over this past year, I have encountered many challenges, mostly emotional. Having to cope with the loss of the majority of my left breast, my hair, and my independence were the greatest struggles. However, I was able to find an inner strength through the love and support of my wonderful friends and family. This past July, my MRI showed that I was clear of any cancer cells.

I do not consider myself a survivor, but rather a conqueror!!! If there is one thing that I have learned during my journey, it is that once I choose HOPE, anything is possible. My goal is to tell one person each day that life is too short to be anything but HAPPY. I also want to be an advocate for younger women encountering this life-altering disease, by helping to raise awareness about the importance of breast self-exams. On the day of the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure, I am not only running for myself, but also for every other woman who has encountered this life-altering “speed bump.”

Remember to always Think Pink!!!

Jillianne McGonigal

Today, one in three CIBC employees either participates or volunteers for the CIBC Run for the Cure.

Over twenty years ago, a courageous group of volunteers stepped forward to hold the first Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure.  But there is another story to be told – one in which some of those volunteers were also employees of one of the largest financial institutions in Canada: CIBC.

CIBC branch staff members were so passionate about the cause, that they approached its senior management team to advocate for greater involvement from all CIBC employees and CIBC – one of the main driving forces behind CIBC becoming the Title Sponsor of the CIBC Run for the Cure for more than 15 years. We continue to be grateful to those pioneering employees and to their leadership team for their unwavering support. They helped the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation build the largest single day breast cancer event in Canada, which last year alone raised more than $30 million to support our vision of creating a future without breast cancer.

The Foundation works with organizations of every size to further engage employees to build teams, set fundraising goals and volunteer. CIBC employees are the gold standard example that the Foundation shares with other organizations to encourage participation in the event.

Today, one in three CIBC employees either participates or volunteers for the CIBC Run for the Cure. CIBC employees also volunteer as Run Champions at each of the 60 Run sites across the country to provide leadership and engage their fellow employees, ensure that all CIBC Run for the Cure activities go smoothly, encourage participation and, above all, drive fundraising.

In 2011, Team CIBC raised more than $3 million through pledges, fundraising events and proceeds from the CIBC Pink Collection™, promoted in CIBC branches across Canada.

The Foundation is immensely grateful to all of our CIBC Run for the Cure volunteers.  This year, keep an eye out for the claret Team CIBC shirts and take a moment to thank them for their passion and drive to support this cause year after year!

Mike says that becoming a member of the Board felt like the right thing to do.

Despite not having a personal connection to the cause, Mike McKim became a volunteer with the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation – Atlantic Region in 2006.  A CIBC employee, Mike had supported the Foundation over the years through initiatives led by other CIBC volunteers, so when the opportunity to volunteer with the Board of Directors presented itself, Mike was keen to get involved.

“The partnership between CIBC and the Foundation is strong, and breast cancer affects so many people,” says Mike. “At the time, I was already participating in various Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure fundraising activities, and so becoming a member of the Board felt like the right thing to do.”

Over the past six years, Mike experienced significant and enriched personal growth while supporting the Foundation through its own substantial growth.

“Volunteering with the Foundation has afforded me the opportunity to feel the emotional side of breast cancer,” he says.” That’s why I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished because I know my efforts, combined with the efforts of others, have made a difference. With strong direction, leadership and focus, I feel like the Foundation is on a solid track to creating a future without breast cancer.”

Lan and Lisa stand together, far right, at the Pink Ribbon Party.

Early this year, Lisa Ho volunteered to host a Pink Ribbon Party and took this responsibility to a whole new level. On March 24, Lisa and her group of volunteers came together and created more than 6,000 pink ribbons to help generate awareness for the breast cancer cause and for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. But Lisa did not stop there. She circulated information about the work of the Foundation and challenged her friends and family not only to donate their time to the cause, but also to raise money for it. Her group of volunteers raised more than $1,200, and they were so inspired by their success that they continue to donate today! To motivate her crew, Lisa and another volunteer, Lan Phan, prepared a pink showcase of decorations and pink-themed food. They even served a watermelon in the shape of a pink ribbon! Because of Lisa’s initiative, we now have a new way for our volunteers to continue contributing to the cause and to the work of the Foundation.

Susan, third from left, on her last day of chemotherapy, with her family, who surprised her with balloons, gifts and flowers.

My name is Susan Dove Owen.  In March 2010, right after my 50th birthday, I went for a mammogram on a breast cancer mobile clinic, here in Thunder Bay, Ontario. A week later I got the phone call and my whole life was turned upside down.

I am a single mom with five wonderful children (two children still living at home with me) and I am also a proud grandmother of five special grandchildren! The last year two years have been quite the struggle, physically, mentally and financially. I’ve had a mastectomy, lymph-node dissection and six months of chemotherapy that resulted in being admitted to the hospital for a while. Last September, I spent two weeks in Toronto, recovering from tram-flap breast reconstruction, which some will know is very painful, but worth it.

I still have more surgery to go. I am getting there one step at a time, but soon all of this will be a nightmare and be a thing of the past. I will be stronger than ever. Thank you so much to my family and my two best friends. xoxo

Kelly with her sister-in-law Elaine, her daughter Alyssa, and her friend Lorna at the 2010 Run for the Cure.

In March 2010, I found what felt like a teeny tiny lump in my breast, thinking it was nothing. Of course it had to be nothing: I was 46 years young with no history of it, how could it be? I decided to get it checked out anyway. Well, it was … breast cancer. I had my surgery on May 26, a lumpectomy. The biopsy also revealed it to be triple-negative breast cancer. OK, four months of intense chemotherapy and two months of radiation ahead of me. I reached down inside to the very bottom of my soul and pulled out the strength that I needed to get through the next six months. My husband (my rock), my family and all our friends were an incredible support system throughout the difficult time.

Kelly with her entire family of siblings, nieces, nephews and very close friends.

I decided early on in my treatment that I was going to continue to live life as best I could, even on the bad days. I started out doing it for my husband and for my children who were nine and 14 at the time. Before I knew it, I was living life to the fullest, for myself as well. I worked as often as I could, continued to be involved in school functions with my children and even walked in the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure. I completed the 5k and even beat some of my team members to the finish line.

We signed up for the Run for the Cure again in 2011. This time, I walked it as a true Survivor and I could not be happier. Life is precious and I am so thankful for each precious day that I survive! We are all happy to be able to be a part of trying to put an end to this suffering … a future without breast cancer!

Kelly Magill

Michael is honouring his mother through his "Cards for Cancer" fundraiser.

I registered as an individual last year for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure. As a fundraiser, I started a campaign, which I call “Cards for Cancer.”

When I was growing up, my mother and I spent every Saturday in the spring and summer going to yard sales and flea markets. We both loved to find great deals, and collected many items. As the years passed, our obsession led to a full basement and garage, and boxes of found treasures piled up in our dining room. The TV show “Hoarders” was not around at this time, but if it had been, we would have been on it. Finally, my mother realized our hobby was out of control, and decided to open a second hand store, where we sold all of our items we collected over the years: books, movies, dishes, sports cards and much, much more. Finally, as more years passed, our house had the space to be a home again.

My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1997. She was brave and strong, and fought it off. However, the cancer returned and in 2001 she passed away. Since then, I relocated to Edmonton, Alberta. Of all the things I had collected while growing up, the one collection I partly kept going was my postcards. I had managed to keep this collection organized and under control, until recently. Earlier this year, I responded to an online ad, from someone who had boxes of postcards for sale for only $2.00 per box, each containing 300 to 400 postcards, but each box was of the same card. We set up a meeting, and I went to see the postcards.

I arrived at the gentleman’s home, he opened up the garage door, and there were boxes of boxes of postcards. Suddenly, I had this familiar feeling come over me, like the one I had when I was with my mother at a yard sale and I found an amazing deal. I purchased six boxes. When I arrived home and opened the boxes, I realized there were actually 1,000 post cards per box. I was overwhelmed. I immediately contacted the seller of these postcards again, set up another meeting and purchased another 30 boxes. This came to a grand total of 36,000 post cards! They were mostly all duplicates; in total there were roughly 45 different types. As I dragged the boxes into my apartment, I then felt the other feeling I had from my days of “yardsaling” with my mother, that feeling where my hobby was taking over my home. I do trade post cards, but knew I would never trade this many in a lifetime. I remembered my mother and the second hand store. I thought, what better way to honour these memories of my mother, than to turn this obsession into a positive – donations for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation.

I am participating in the Run for the Cure again this year, and am continuing the “Cards for Cancer” initiative.

If you would like to visit Michael’s “Cards for Cancer” Facebook page, please visit http://www.facebook.com/groups/cardsforcancer/.

Paula at present day after completing her treatments.

My name is Paula and, like many others, thought that I was the picture of health. I rarely, if ever, got sick, was physically active and in the best shape that I’ve been in years. Life was pretty good, or so I thought. I had just recently met a wonderful man, my kids were grown and wonderfully independent, I have two beautiful granddaughters and I am only 50!

In the early spring of 2010 one of my dearest friends came over for dinner and during the course of the evening we spoke of her now deceased mother who had died seven years earlier due to breast cancer that had eventually spread through her entire body. She passed away in her very early 50s. Her story is that the lump had not been correctly diagnosed so therefore enabled the cancer to spread to many areas of her body. The reason we spoke of this was because I too had a lump in my breast that had been there for five years, but I had been told it was just a cyst. I had left it since I had not noticed any changes in my breast at all, and so felt relatively safe. With the urging of my dear friend and my wonderful man, I promised I would get it checked again and just have the lump removed. I made my appointment feeling very confident that all this would entail is the removal of the cyst and life would go on. I was not at all prepared for the news I received. Within one week I went from healthy Paula to someone with breast cancer. It was rather unnerving to me as my grandmother on my father’s side had breast cancer and passed away in her early 60s back in 1964 or 1965. I felt I was safe from this disease since it was my father’s mother, but now realize that genetics are not parental-specific.

Upon diagnosis, the surgery was booked and I had a new procedure done. Once the pathology was complete, they determined there were more cancer cells and so I had another surgery. I was able to retain the breast but ended up with complications which I am still to this day dealing with and will be resolved hopefully by the end of the year.

Paula during her treatments.

After surgery, I met with my wonderful oncologist and my chemo plan had been put into place. Apparently my treatment consisted of the most difficult chemo to take after which I lost my hair, eyebrows, eyelashes and even my fingernails. I would look in the mirror and see my father, bald and aged and very unattractive. I still had spirit though and this disease was NOT going to take that away from me too. After the chemo which I choose to not think about too much, I had six weeks of daily radiation. Then the magical day was here … I’m DONE all treatments (with the exception of the issue in the breast I am currently dealing with). The worst was over! Now I had to figure out how to cope, to deal with who or what I am now. My life after one year is no longer governed by doctor’s appointments, and people caring for me. I had to take back the reins and I am still doing this. But I AM A SURVIVOR! I will be strong, as there are others with worse conditions than my own. I have my hair back, I have my looks pretty much back, I am me again and I am going to do what I want to do with my life and be so thankful for all the support and kindness that was shown toward me. I have a second chance like so many others do not have and for that I am eternally grateful and I wish with all my heart to be there for others who may be suffering through this presently. No one understands as much as a person who is either going through this or has survived it.

Life is a gift and we must treasure it each and every day. Our loved ones are also gifts and to those people, family and friends, I wish to thank for all your love, support and kindness during this difficult time.

Kathryn shows her medal at the Disney Princess Half Marathon.

Running has been so tightly entwined with my breast cancer experience. I was a new runner when I got the diagnosis, and running has been my constant therapist.

Never in my life have I run anywhere that did not culminate in boarding a bus or arriving late for class. No speed or endurance whatsoever, not fun, picked last for teams, etc. But after a hand injury that turned my life upside down, I had nothing else to do, so I started off with a 700-metre 20-minute “run.” Following that with a bit of experimentation, I learned that pace was everything. I used a running app to avoid going too fast, and in six months had worked up to a 10k. Quite impressed with myself, I set my sights on the Disney Princess Half Marathon 2010 as the culmination of this turnaround of my sedentary ways.

As I was packing my suitcase for the trip, my husband nonchalantly mentioned the hospital called to say they wanted me back to “redo” my mammogram the next week. As survivors know, that would be the magnified view mammogram appointment at the top of this slippery slope we come to know so well.

I managed to put the ominous recall to the back of my mind and focus on the run, had a spectacular experience, and finished upright and smiling. (Fast, pfft. No, but who cares?) Even developing an IT band injury couldn’t tarnish my tiara medal.

When I got home, I had the magnified view mammogram (look! tiny specks!) and then the stereo biopsy (“probably” perhaps showed signs that it might become DCIS!) Had it been invasive, I like to think that I would have acted immediately but I was beyond a healthy state of stress and I wanted to spend a couple of months shedding some of that stress, getting fitter for anaesthesia and recovery, and reclaim a sense of control. As part of that, I was keen to do the Disneyland Half Marathon (DLHM). The surgeon reassured me that there was no rush and we agreed on a surgery date. The DLHM was such an emotional experience and I crossed the finish line in tears. I think the drive to “survive and prevail” meant more than just running 13.1k.

Kathryn crossing the finish line!

I surrendered to the lumpectomy only to find the DCIS was by then extensive with negligible margins and had changed from ambiguous to high grade. DCIS might be cancer that is still working in the mailroom, but I was sensing that it had management ambitions.  I asked for a mastectomy, where additional DCIS in the pathology report validated my instinct that it would be the right choice for me. I started with a 60-minute walk at three weeks, as soon as the incision was healed. Immediately my physical aches and pains reduced! It took my mind off the past threat and the decisions still lying ahead: prophylactic surgery, reconstruction, and all of those things. Ten weeks after my mastectomy, I was at the finish line of the Princess Half Marathon 2011. I returned to the Disneyland Half in 2011 to focus on ongoing fitness, and am looking forward to my next half marathon to pull me out of the next treatment.

I’ve never had a “why me?” moment in this journey. It has to be someone. For all the percentages bandied around about what percentage of lumps or abnormal mammograms are up to no good, what percentage of cases will have particularly serious outcomes, etc., each individual person is either 0 per cent a breast cancer case or 100 per cent a breast cancer case. Why would it not be me? More important is how am I going to cope with it? What will I do to manage my health and my emotions?

Running has been the number one best thing I have done to survive this unnerving experience, possibly for the physical benefit, but absolutely for how it focuses my head and gives me back a sense of controlling something physical. The endurance of running is so metaphorical. I’m so grateful for it. We could bowl for the cure, knit for the cure, or play bridge for the cure, but to me, running is a perfect way to celebrate the pursuit of ways to improve education, prevention, and yes, the cure.