Breast cancer screening and early detection are key
There are more ways than ever to learn about the threat of breast cancer, including genetic testing.
Fox – 2 Detroit
Alix Schulman lives in the Chicago suburbs with his wife Lisa. They aspired to a house with a nice backyard and basement for their dog. A few decades ago, a huge tornado ripped through town. Having a basement will help you prepare for the worst.
Little did they know that the worst would come from elsewhere. Shulman, 49, was diagnosed with stage 3 IIB triple-negative breast cancer several years ago. She has survived 16 rounds of chemotherapy and a bilateral mastectomy, and has now been cancer-free for four years.
Is it an integral part of her care? Her support system, from health care providers to loved ones, affirms her queer identity and acknowledges her spouse.
“It wasn’t just about me as a patient. I think that’s really important for the queer community because your partner might be sitting next to you and just listening,” Schulman says. She added, “My surgeon was amazing and I would recommend her and my oncologist to anyone in the queer community because I think they were not only kind and caring, but also made us feel very welcome in a judgment-free environment.”
This care is critical, with an estimated 160,000 new cases of cancer and nearly 50,000 new LGBTQ+ people in 2024, according to the American Cancer Society. Research from the National LGBT Cancer Network and Oncology Nursing Seminar shows that they are at higher risk for cancer compared to their heterosexual and cisgender peers and may have barriers to recommended screening.
Even in a politically polarized society, “many health systems seem to continue to focus on promoting (LGBTQ+) knowledge and education because they know gay people aren’t going anywhere,” says Dr. Justin Schweitzer, medical director of LGBTQ+ medicine and primary care at Cooper University Health Care.
The importance of support during cancer treatment
Shulman met his wife when he was 33 years old. They have been together for 16 years and married for 8 years. “On the surface she’s a very hard-nosed person, but deep down she’s a very caring, loving, supportive, very understanding person,” Schulman said. Solid support was what she needed when she felt pain in her left breast in 2022. A pink rash has also appeared. It was hot to the touch.
With these symptoms, she called her doctor and scheduled a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. “They kept taking more pictures, so I had a feeling something was going on,” she says. “And the same thing happened with the ultrasound.”
Shulman’s diagnosis results arrived on Valentine’s Day. Her general practitioner recommended a queer-affirming oncologist and surgeon, and her treatment began.
“She was like a blessing,” Schulman says of his surgeon. “She brought the fun, but most people would think, ‘Well, can you really do that during a cancer diagnosis?’ And she comes in and says, ‘Okay, you got cancer.’ what are we doing? ”
Her first chemotherapy infusion began on March 19th. The U.S. Food and Drug Administration had just approved the immunotherapy Keytruda, and she took it for a year in conjunction with chemotherapy. Shingles, folliculitis, and COVID-19 also plagued her during this time. When she finished it, it was all worth it and she has the certificate to prove it. She has it framed and displayed.
“I work from home, and sometimes people will say, ‘Oh, that’s your college degree?’ And I’m like, ‘No, this is me completing chemotherapy,'” she says.
However, depression developed after her treatment. Chemotherapy became a weekly part of her life. What exactly happened during that time?
“Patients often find themselves in what I call a new normal,” Schweitzer says. “That means their lives can be dramatically different than they were before surgery or cancer treatment.”
Shulman took charge of her mental health, looking for support groups and therapy. Now, in her daily life, she sees people who are going through similar experiences to hers and is passing on good vibes. One day, she noticed a woman getting a manicure whose hair seemed to be growing longer. “I just said, ‘Your hair looks great. You look beautiful.’ And she said, ‘I knew you knew.’ ”
Schulman added, “I think it’s important to support other people, because they might be in a situation where they’re feeling down as well, angry, and like, ‘Why me?'” And I think it’s really important to support people who are out there, whether they’re in the queer community or not. ”
“The other side of this story”
There are many resources for LGBTQ+ people seeking support as part of their cancer journey, including the American Cancer Society, the Tegan & Sarah Foundation, and various LGBTQ+ healthcare directories.
Mr. Shulman was fortunate to be surrounded by many loved ones. But not everyone has it.
“This is the other side of the story, and it’s worth discussing,” Schweitzer said, noting the importance of having “support from loved ones, chosen family members, and the medical community to help patients get the care they want and need.”
Schulman now sees an oncologist every six months. She’s trying out some new activities, including a queer bowling league, pickleball, and even a pottery class.
Schulman is especially excited to be doing a “Making Stride” breast cancer walk in Chicago later this year, holding up a placard declaring that she has been cancer-free for almost five years.
