Three Generations, One Fight: A Family's Story of Love, Strength and Hope
By Jasmine Dionne Souers
One out of eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetime, but between my mom Penney, Grandma Bettie, and I, we defied the odds with a surprising two out of three.
The first time my grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer, I was in middle school. I remember watching my dad cut her hair in the kitchen as it began to fall out from the chemotherapy. We threw an extra special birthday celebration that year and I had the honor of coordinating all the pink decorations.
The second time, I was in high school. I remember the concern in my mom’s voice when she shared the news that the cancer had returned. I have zero memories of seeing Grandma Bettie sick. I only knew mom would frequently visit Grandma Bettie to take her Ensure and make sure she was okay. But not long after that diagnosis, we celebrated the completion of Grandma Bettie’s active treatment, and again, all was well.
More than 20 years had passed between Grandma Bettie’s first and her most recent diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer. Now, I understand not all breast cancers are the same. I understand not all treatments work the same way. I understand not every person has the same access to care. I understand caregiving is so much more than “making sure someone is okay.” And I know this because a couple years before her third diagnosis, I received an unexpected diagnosis of my own.
Love always hopes.
One spring day in 2016, while standing in the mirror wearing a ribbed tank top, I observed one breast was noticeably larger than the other. I knew no one had perfectly even breasts, but my left breast looked slightly swollen.
Suddenly, the signs I had reasoned away felt like indications of something more serious. The pain in my breast was almost constant, not linked to my menstrual cycle like I once thought. Having large breasts most of my life, I thought the stains in my bra were the results of fallen food, but I realized the stains were only in one cup.
A few months prior at a work event, I learned how to dance my finger tips in a circular motion around my breasts to check for changes. So, I took off my clothes and did the closest rendition of a self-breast exam that I could.
When I felt the hardness of my breast and saw the discharge release from my nipple, I was more than concerned – I was 25 and I was scared.
The first person I called was my mom – the caregiving cornerstone in our trio. When I passed a mammogram and ultrasound and the doctor told me I was “too young to have cancer,” I called her then, too. And when months passed and the symptoms got worse and I decided to see a different doctor, she started coming to the screening appointments with me.
A few days before the results of my biopsy, I woke up singing “It is Well” by Bethel Music and a peace reassured me that no matter the results, everything would be okay. I was bracing myself for the news, but my mom stood firm in her belief of a positive report.
I was 26 years old when I walked into the doctor’s office for the results. My ex-husband, mom and I, made jokes to ease the tension of the moment. But when the words “We found cancerous cells” filled the air, I looked to my mom in disbelief.
“Who was the doctor talking to?” I asked.
“What happened to being “too young?” I thought.
My mom looked stunned.
And when I cried, she consoled me.
From that moment on our relationship was never the same.
Love is kind.
Growing up, there were seasons where our relationship was complicated and strained, but as I got older, she became my best friend and I looked forward to spending time with her. But I never appreciated how strong and incredible my mom is until I experienced her love and care for me after my bi-lateral mastectomy.
My mom Penney and I on my first birthday.
Managing my pain, monitoring and stripping the drains in my chest, lifting me up to go to the bathroom and get in and out bed, washing my hair, helping me shower and the list goes on.
For months, she was by my side and she didn’t have to be, honestly.
I was married.
I was grown.
I was “independent.”
I did not want to need the help I so desperately needed.
But I was loved, am loved, and her love would not allow me to feel defeated by the circumstances.
Her love prayed the heavens down and opened doors to healings my doctors have no natural explanation for.
It inspired me to worship when I was feeling discouraged by the frequent hospitalizations in the years that followed.
It encouraged me to build businesses to give hope to other women facing breast cancer.
It got her behind the wheel for a last minute trip to Orlando so I could experience the magic of a Young Survival Coalition summit.
It even gave her strength for matching breast cancer tattoos on my first cancerversary – she was absolutely one and done.
Her love was ever present and kept me lifted when times were challenging and uncertain.
Love always protects.
It was a hospital visit for a urinary tract infection (UTI) that led to the diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer for my grandmother.
By this time, I was already a breast cancer advocate for young women and women of color affected by breast cancer. So when the doctors told my mom the news, it was me trying to explain the meaning of the diagnosis over the phone. And when the doctors tried to start treatments without a biopsy, it was me that raised a red flag and asked how they could start treatment assuming the subtype of the cancer.
With much advocacy and support, for nearly six years Grandma Bettie lived with metastatic breast cancer with no treatment side effects and no evidence of disease.
But in the spring of 2023, a strange rash appeared on Grandma Bettie’s stomach under her breast, followed by lumps on her neck.
“It’s shingles,” they said.
“Nope, just body yeast,” they guessed.
“It’s definitely not cancer,” claimed a doctor as he felt the lumps.
But none of their answers made sense to me. So, I continued to tell mom to show the symptoms to different doctors and finally, told her to pursue a biopsy.
The results came in. The cancer had spread. And with other health complications, we were now forced to navigate options for new lines of treatment and long-term care.
The news of the progression came shortly before another hospital stay that left Grandma Bettie’s legs significantly weak. Doctors recommended she have two full-time caregivers upon her release. But when we realized the long-term care facility would not allow her to receive the new cancer treatment, nor would they offer her rehab to help her walk again, mom decided to do what she could as long as she could.
Mom believed Grandma deserved a chance to live and live well.
Love always perseveres.
My mom is not new to caregiving. In many ways, she’s spent most of her life caring for others. As a child, it was her mom who struggled with mental illnesses. By 18, it was my brother, Destin, whom she had in high school.
Grandma Bettie and my mom, Penney Davis.
No one will ever describe Grandma Bettie as “warm and fuzzy.” But despite the emotional distance Grandma could create with harsh words and actions, it was never enough to stop my mom from moving mountains for her if she could – and move mountains she did.
After a rough few days of caring for my Grandma, mom broke down and I stopped saying what I felt, that this was too much for her to do alone, and decided to pray instead.
I prayed God would give her clarity and peace, and allow her to operate in love with wisdom and discernment. She realized she couldn’t care for Grandma full-time and continue using unpaid leave. So she kept her plan of getting Grandma physical therapy, and getting Grandma as many treatments as she could before transitioning her to a long-term care facility.
I prayed that God would bless her with financial provision to see the desire of her heart fulfilled. While she struggled with navigating her job’s benefits, her family unexpectedly took up a love offering, empathizing with the sacrifice required to take care of Grandma Bettie.
I prayed God would give her favor and that His love and compassion would be shown to her through others. With the help of my friends at Project Life, a virtual wellness house for the metastatic breast cancer community, they found my mom a caregiver mentor, someone who understood the journey she was on and the tough decisions she had to make. Determined to find a way to get Grandma access to her treatment, Project Life helped us understand our patient rights, which allowed us to win the fight to get Grandma access to her cancer injections while in the long-term care facility – the new line of treatment is working by the way.
I prayed God would give her strong hands and willing helpers because caring for my grandma was entirely too much for one person. I was compelled to move back home to help my mom in the transition. With the help of a physical therapist, Grandma walked for the first time in weeks and soon she was walking with little assistance. And thanks to a home care nurse, mom could run errands freely or rest during the day a few times a week. With more hands on deck, we started to see Grandma make progress – progress I wasn’t sure would be possible, but mom always did.
Love never fails.
Breast cancer has reshaped the way we rely on one another.
There is a language the three of us speak that’s made up of doctor appointments, scans, lab results, aided bathroom trips, and the desire – and need – to share the burden of all, physically and emotionally.
It reversed roles and created dependencies we never had before.
When breast cancer takes a shot at one of us, we move together to dodge the blow or face the impact.
The relationship between my mother, grandmother and I was forged in the fight to do more than survive, but to thrive in the face of breast cancer. A fight to not give in when times are hard and the deck is stacked. A fight to believe God is able and greater is always possible. And a fight to love – and be loved – through it all.
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The More You Know
Family history: The risk of breast cancer in women is higher if they have a first-degree relative, such as a mother, sister, or daughter, who has had breast or ovarian cancer. Additionally, having multiple family members on either the mother's or father's side with a history of breast or ovarian cancer increases the risk. Having a first-degree male relative with breast or prostate cancer can also increase a woman's risk.
Genetic predispositions: According to the Centers of Disease Control and Prevention, about 5% to 10% of breast and 10% to 15% of ovarian cancers are hereditary. Hereditary cancer means cancer runs in your family, and could be caused by a genetic mutation (change in certain genes) that you inherited from your mother or father.
Young breast cancer: About 5% of breast cancer diagnoses occur in women under the age of 40 and young women are more likely to find their breast abnormality themselves. The American College of Radiology and the Society of Breast Imaging recommend women receive a breast cancer risk assessment at age 25.
According to the Cleveland Clinic, younger women who have breast cancer may ignore their symptoms because they believe they are too young to get breast cancer. This can lead to a delay in diagnosis and poorer outcomes. Some healthcare providers may also dismiss symptoms in young women or adopt a "wait and see" approach, emphasizing the importance of young women knowing their normal and advocating for themselves.
Caregivers: While caregivers tend to be big-hearted and well intentioned, they can often neglect themselves to care for others. Caregiver burnout is a state of physical, emotional, and mental exhaustion that can be accompanied by a change in attitude – from positive and caring to negative and indifferent. It can occur when caregivers don't get the help they need or when they try to do more than they are physically or financially able to. Symptoms may include fatigue, stress, anxiety, and depression.
To manage caregiver burnout, it's crucial to prioritize self-care. This involves setting personal health goals, such as a healthy diet and regular exercise, scheduling time for relaxation and social activities, and seeking professional help when needed. Also, caregivers can benefit from joining support groups to share experiences and coping strategies. Leveraging respite care services can also provide temporary relief, allowing caregivers to take a break and recharge.
Ageism cancer: Age adds an additional layer of complexity to cancer diagnoses, creating barriers to quality care for people over the age of 65. In addition to symptoms often being mistaken for age-related illnesses, older adults are more likely to have chronic conditions like high-blood pressure and diabetes.
