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It seems that just about every October, I remember a time about fifteen years ago when I was working as a reporter for a cable news program in Boston, and a copy of New York magazine made its way around the newsroom. The cover story, entitled “My Breast” was the real-life story of journalist Joyce Wadler and her devastating breast cancer diagnosis and subsequent fight to survive.

Wadler was one of the best in her field. She was an expert investigator, prolific writer, and former Washington Post New York Bureau Chief. Certainly no stranger to hanging in there when the going got tough.

Little did she know how tough it was going to get when at the age of 44, she had a tumor “the size of a robin’s egg” (her words) removed from her breast and was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma.

The fact that Wadler had no family history of the disease, no known risk factors, and exercised regularly, didn’t seem to add up to a hill of beans on the day she was told the news that would forever change her life.

A few days after the article showed up in the newsroom, you could, at any time, find the women in my office simultaneously holding and reading the dog-eared magazine with one hand, while palpating their necks, breasts, and underarm areas with the other. We ceased to care that we were doing this in public and for the most part, the men in the office left us alone (wise decision). Many of them made copies of the article for their girlfriends, wives and mothers.

Wadler’s personal diary of diagnosis and treatment was profiled in the magazine in chillingly candid detail. She was brutally frank about her fear of dying and explicit about the difficult radiation and chemotherapy treatments and their aftermath. To this day, I have never forgotten her. She was determined not to be a statistic.

As I was writing this column, I did a little digging to find out where Wadler might be.

A quick stop at Amazon.com led me to her book, also entitled “My Breast” which was published in 1997 to great fanfare, at least six or seven years since I first read the magazine article. When I saw the publication date of her book, I breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it past the five-year survival mark.

Joyce Wader was not a statistic.

A little more digging led me to a new, disheartening fact: Wadler was later diagnosed with ovarian cancer. As was typical of her personality, her wry, black humor carried her through—example, Wadler wrote in her book that when prescribed Ziphrain, a common anti-nausea drug, she quizzed her doctor about the drug’s street value.Well, she did live in New York….

My message today (there is one—truthfully—although a friend recently told me that my story-telling was a bit disjointed, but that’s another (disjointed) story for another day)….

One more time…

My message today is that while October is the official Breast Cancer Awareness Month, all of us at Womensforum.com, believe that the message of early detection and prevention should be on our minds year round. Please search our site for information on ways you can be your own best advocate in the fight against this disease. If you want more information on breast cancer or wish to participate in Race for the Cure in your city, please visit www.komen.org