Last Saturday, June 26, 2010, my husband, sister, and a handful of friends took part in the American Cancer Society’s Making Strides walk  in Marin County, Calif. As we registered, I inquired about the survivors’ ceremony I’d been told would be taking place. There was none, though I did receive a survivor’s medal, complete with pink ribbon. When I sounded a bit disappointed at the lack of celebration, my sister told me, “Let’s remember why we’re here.”

     Of course. It took my “little” sister, twelve years younger than I, to remind me that it’s the raising awareness for the fight against breast cancer that’s important. Raising funds for research is important, too. It was special to have my sister there. It’s part of why I walked. I don’t want her to have to fear the words, “You have breast cancer.” I want to do whatever it takes to find a cure. For her. For all of us.

     There were a few remarks before the walk. I teared up somewhat. But I did not cry. That was a good sign because it means I’m moving on. The master of ceremonies was, himself, a breast cancer survivor. I told him about the pinup calendar I’d picked up at the radiation center in Rohnert Park, Calif. The featured survivor for my birth month, August, was male. The day’s MC seemed eager to know about a fellow male survivor. He found the calendar at one of the booths and grinned as he showed it to me. I got to thinking, with the disease so prevalent among women in Marin, it must be lonely to be a male survivor.

     Some two hundred people, volunteers and walkers, turned out to make the three-mile stroll along the path from Mill Valley to Sausalito. It was a brisk foggy morning that gradually gave way to a brilliant blue sky. Patches of fog melted off overhead as we ambled along the waterfront trail. Smiles, cheers and high spirits were in abundance. We watched egrets in the marsh as they fished for breakfast. Flashes of silver slid into their beaks and down their throats. At the midway point, there were leis for the hikers and noise makers. A bagpiper played for the occasion. I took a picture of her posing with my sister and a friend.

     We talked about everything and nothing as we strolled. My sister surged out in front. Two friends lagged behind, as the dog one had brought slowed them down. Afterward, we gathered in a nearby coffee shop to warm up and talk. It was low-key and fun. I was glad to have walked. It closed the chapter.

 Author Bio and link to blog:

     Born in Tokyo and educated around the globe, Juliane Cortino’s natural curiosity and tons of interests cemented her desire, at age ten, to become a journalist. She has worked as a reporter for United Press International, magazine editor for Information Week, producer for the PeopleSoft Inc. Internet site, and freelanced as a television news writer for KGO-TV. She’s an alum of the Stanford Professional Publishing Course, the juried Napa Valley Writers’ Conference, and Inkwell—a seminar for manuscript critiquing co-hosted by authors Judith Guest (Ordinary People) and Rebecca Hill (Blue Rise). Juliane has completed a historical novel and is currently working on a non-fiction manuscript.

     As a girl, Juliane often said she would like to die rich and famous at age forty. That way she would not have to grow sick or old. As a somewhat mature adult, she came to know the wisdom of growing older. Becoming sick was not in the plan. Illness struck without notice and showed itself during a routine exam. Her life changed forever and ultimately for the better. She has compiled months of blogs with research and other new material into a manuscript entitled: Nothing Can Scare Me Now: Managing Breast Cancer So It Won’t Manage You. She hopes it will be helpful to others.

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