What is breast cancer?
Breast cancer is a
malignant tumor that starts from cells of the breast.
A malignant tumor
How it happened to Anastacia ...
"You
have breast cancer." At 34, in the prime of my life and my singing career, those
were the last words I ever expected to hear from my doctor--especially since
there was no history of the disease in my family. I wondered if I was going to
die in a day, a week or a year. But I quickly learned that a diagnosis of breast
cancer is not a death sentence. Because I had gotten a mammogram, the cancer in
my left breast was caught early; after a partial mastectomy and six weeks of
radiation, I was declared "cancer-free."
While my body was forever
changed, it was my perspective on life that was even more dramatically altered.
The doctors said that radiation would make me tired and I thought, Yeah, right.
I have so much energy, I figured it would bring me down a notch, to normal. So I
continued with my hectic schedule. I shot a video less than a week after the
biopsy. I let TV cameras follow me around prior to and right after my surgery to
get the message out about breast cancer. I started writing a new album. My
attitude was, If I get tired, I'll take a quick break, then I'll get right back
to work. It so didn't turn out that way.
A few weeks into treatment, I
became a shell of my former self, yet I continued to push on. It was only when I
didn't have an ounce of energy left to sing that I got scared. The radiation
didn't just take away my voice, it took away my electricity, my power source. I
knew I had to step back and stop trying to be everything to everyone. I started
to think of radiation as a girlfriend telling me to slow down and take care of
myself--and I finally listened.
Slowly but surely, I learned
how to bring more balance to my life. I wanted to start investing in the health
of my body as well as my mind, and that goal has stayed with me even three years
after treatment. I now give myself days off (something I'd never done before).
And while it was difficult (my arm atrophied a lot from the treatment), I've
started exercising regularly for the first time. I do Bikram yoga; for me it's
not about getting a hot bod; it's a way to take time out from my busy life and
get in touch with me. My favorite activity of all is hiking in the hills near my
home, where the views are beautiful, inspiring and rejuvenating.
Cancer brought out an
unexpected femininity in me, too. I had seen myself as a tough chick, dressed in
leather, always wearing my signature dark glasses. But now I find myself wanting
to be softer, and I'm exploring that side of my personality. I don't care
anymore if I have a perfect face--or scars. This is what I look like, and it's
okay: I now know that beauty isn't about having perfectly round breasts or a
flawless complexion; it's about who I am on the inside, and I have cancer to
thank for that insight.
"Been
livin' in a fantasy without meaning" are words from the song "Left Outside
Alone" that I wrote while I was recovering. I had to sing the beginning in a
falsetto because I didn't have the power to belt out the whole thing. But even
when my voice came back, I left that part in. It shows the tender, vulnerable
side of me that breast cancer helped me to express. And I don't ever want to
lose touch with it again.