Five Lessons I Didn't Learn From Breast Cancer (And One BigOne I Did)

By Shelley Lewis

Book Overview

An irreverent, funny, compassionate look at what having breast cancer meansaand what it doesnat. From the pink ribbons to the websites that sell related accessories and stuffed animals, breast cancer has morphed from a disease to an experience. And at every step of the way, society tells women that this experience can teach them profound lessons and maybe even give them a peek at the meaning of life. But what if it doesnat? Before Shelley Lewis got breast cancer she was a smart, edgy network producer. After the long month of treatment ended, she was still a smart, edgy network producer. The cancer was gone but in its place there was no epiphany, no new perspective on life. Lewis found that for herself and other women, breast cancer was many things, but it was not necessarily an opportunity for self-improvement. It didnat teach them lessons, but surviving it did draw on hard-won life lessons theyad already learned. A wonderful interweaving of the authoras personal story, interviews with breast cancer survivors, and a sharp-eyed journalistas look at the breast cancer acommunity, a this book is full of unconventional wisdom, unexpected advice, and hilarious observations about life inside the pink bubble.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 045122390X
• ISBN13: 9780451223906
• Release Date: May 2008
• Publisher: NAL Trade
• Length: 260 Pages
• Weight: 0.55 lbs.
• Dimensions: 8.3" x 0.7" x 5.6"
• Age Range: 18 years and up
• Grade Range: Grade 12 and higher

Customer Reviews

The best breast cancer book I have read

Being a 3 time breast cancer repeat offender, this book rang more true than any of the others I have read. I was beginning to feel guilty about not having a spiritual experience until I read this book. Also I was getting quite peeved about "the race" because they don't interview people with multiple occurences. They only show happy, happy, happy faces of those with 1 occurence. What are we, chopped liver? This book has made me rethink my advice to first time offenders. It is certainly the most honest book I have read about this awful disease. I highly recommend it to any breast cancer patient or family member of patient.

Not just for breast cancer patients

Part memoir, part how-to book, "The Five Lessons I Didn't Learn from Breast Cancer" has universal appeal for all sorts of cancers, even the "non-female" kind like my non Hodgkin's lymphoma. Though there are plenty of how-to tips for newly diagnosed breast cancer patients, I enjoyed this book because of Lewis' take on the "Tyranny of Positive Thinking" and the pinkapalooza cartel. I respect her choice not to call herself a "survivor," though I wonder if it's really because, as she says, Death wasn't at her door, but rather sent her a "Thinking of You Card." (For me, Death had pulled into the driveway and parked the car.) Never whiny and often downright funny, this book is a must-read for anyone who has been sucker punched by cancer.

an intelligent and deeply personal account ...

This is a wonderful book, an intelligent and deeply personal account of one woman's experience with breast cancer. At times poignant, at times laugh-out-loud funny, Shelley Lewis does not hold back in describing her journey from diagnosis to treatment to recovery. With a sharp and cynical eye, she pokes a thousand holes in the breast-cancer-as-essential-on-the-path-to-true-enlightenment script put forward by scribes who would have you believe that breast cancer is a gratifying experience, (chicken soup for the soul, if you will), without which you will never find the true meaning of life. Shelley also takes on the cause awareness industry that reaps the benefits of breast cancer awareness, (Pink Ribbon Barbie anyone?) and challenges the medical industry and our government to work harder to isolate the causes of breast cancer and to better treat the disease once it's found. This book is recommended reading for friends and family of women who have been diagnosed with breast cancer. It will give you great insight in to the best ways to be most helpful while the one you love is going through this cancer. Most of all, for any woman who has recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and is overwhelmed by the choices that need to be made, bewildered too, and maybe just a little out of sync with the breast-cancer-will-change-you-make-you-a-better-person crowd, when you are quite sure you were a pretty fine person all along, this book is most certainly for you.

A different point of view

My sister had breast cancer, so I often look for books that might be of interest to her (or me.) When I saw this title I was intrigued, but more so when I noticed the author. Having read and loved Lewis's first book (Naked Republicans) I could not imagine how someone with her irreverent sense of humor would handle a serious topic like breast cancer. I should have known...she handles it in much the same way! Yes, it is a serious topic but as she points out it doesn't change who you are as a person. From what I can tell after reading her two books, it didn't change her at all. It is very funny, but deals with serious issues intelligently and thoughtfully. I especially liked the emphasis on advocacy and research. If you have breast cancer this will give you a different perspective than most of the books out there. If you know someone with breast cancer, especially someone recently diagnosed, buy this book for them. Read it first though, because it will help you be a better and more supportive friend.

The perfect antidote for when the "pinkapalooza" makes you sick!

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 wood