The Smile Never Fades by Bill Bastas

The Smile Never Fades is a book that was put together by Bill Bastas. Bill lost his wife, Michelle, of twenty-two years and vowed to honor those that have been touched by this horrible disease. His book is filled with compelling essays written by survivors and photos taken by him. The book is $35 and the proceeds will go towards cancer research. For more information or to purchase this book click here: http://www.thesmileneverfades.com/thesmileneverfades.html

News 8 did a piece on him and his wife. I was very moved by it and remember e-mailing him that evening to let him know that. I had an e-mail from him the next morning. I checked the time that he replied to me and it was 1:30 AM. He told me that he appreciated my e-mail and that he would never forget me.

His book release party was at the Judge's Mansion on November 28, 2007. He did not recognize me with my hair. When I told him who I was he immediately gave me a huge hug. He was able to recall our conversation from August of 2006 when I first went in to get my picture taken by him! I still had my bandanna on and most of my eyebrows were still gone at that time. It amazed me how he remembered our conversation because I know that he has spoken and photographed many survivors since then. He wrote in my book that he would never forget me and signed it with love. Bill apparently loved Michelle a great deal. He is now making a great effort to make a difference in helping those with breast cancer and in finding a cure.

Losing My Breast Round Two

I lost my breast a second time in March of 2006. I continued to have on and off pain since my mastectomy back in January of 2006. Driving with my stick shift car was a difficult for me because it required too much movement and exertion on my right chest. A few days before my spring break I was running a fever and my skin near my needle port for my implant itched. I stayed home the next day from work to rest and felt better though my itch was still itching. A day or two later that same spot started turning a red color and it was starting to become tender. It occurred over the weekend and I decided to go in on Monday to get it looked at. By Sunday, I was in miserable pain.

My first mistake is to allow myself to get to this pain. I should have went in earlier, even to the on call doctor over the weekend. Hound your docs. We pay them big bucks and our health is the number one priority! We know our body the best! By the time I went in, the plastic surgeon took one look at it and said I had an infection. He put me on antibiotics for seven days, high dosage. I spent two more days in miserable pain. My red "spot" started to develop into what looked like a big blister. By Wednesday, I went back in to see my doctor because the simple act of wearing clothes and having my clothes rub against my infected spot put tears in my eyes.


I spent my spring "break" in enormous pain both physically, mentally and emotionally. He had me go for an emergency surgery that day to take my implant out. Emergency, I think not. I waited several hours before they finally wheeled me in. RJ was growing considerably short tempered with my plastic surgeon and vented to the nurse.

There was little pain when I woke up. RJ told me that his venting must have helped. The plastic surgeon went in and took out my implant. While he was in there, he scooped out a great deal of the infection. The surgeon spoke to RJ and explained that my infection was pretty severe. I went home that night still feeling very out of it from the anesthesia.

It wasn't until the next day that it sunk in that I lost my breast a second time. I looked down at my chest and my right breast was gone. I had my drain in again and my right breast was gone. It was just gone... I've never considered myself a vain person. I've always enjoyed having a flat chest because I got away without having to wear a sports bra if I forgot it. I never had to worry about people staring at my chest. Sports was fun for me and I never had the extra weight up there. I remember my plastic surgeon telling me during my consultation with him that many women go with a larger size. A larger size was not an interest for me....I only long for the breast that I had. My A cup was perfect for me. I've now become a lopsided A cup.

I didn't think it would bother me that much at first. I put a strong and courageous face on and walked around lopsided for a long time. I occasionally noticed a few people stare at my chest. I noticed that I did not want to wear light tops as much. I started feeling very self cautious at the gym.

As an alternative route I got fitted for my prosthesis and bras with pockets to hold the prosthesis in. I started wearing that around. It made me realize that it was nice to feeling "normal" and that people may be staring at me but not because I was lopsided.

As I blog now, I have tears rolling down my face. It's been over a year and a half now and the emotional pain and scar is still very real. Every morning and evening when I dress and undress is a reminder that I only have one breast.

I will choose another plastic surgeon and will need to see if having that breast reconstructed again is an option. I have so many fears. I fear the knife, being put asleep, the pain from the implant and the possibility that my body will reject it again. There are no guarantees that I will ever have a right breast again.

I notice everyone's breast now. I normally know if they are real or fake. I have become very resentful of those who have had breast enlargement for the sake of having larger breasts. They subject their body to this pain to have a larger breast? It doesn't make sense to me. They should be thankful that they have two healthy breasts!

I am very appreciative that I was not born with an obvious handicap. I admire all the people that live with anything that an "average" person doesn't have. It isn't easy not being "normal" when we live in a world that glorifies plastic surgery and large breasts.