This Woman’s Cancer Battle Could Help You Avoid the Same Fate
Nancy Cappello was proactive. When she turned 36, she had a baseline mammogram, a standard medical recommendation in the late 1980s and early 1990s as a comparison tool for future screenings. At 40, Cappello started getting them annually.
Her breast surgeon estimated the cancer had been festering for four to five years under the radar of her annual mammograms.
Six weeks after her 11th-consecutive normal mammogram, she was diagnosed with Stage IIIc breast cancer.
A doctor felt a lump while doing a breast exam during her annual physical and a subsequent ultrasound detected cancer that had spread to 13 lymph nodes. That's when Cappello, then 51, learned she had dense breast tissue, making mammography less likely to detect tumors in her breasts.
She also discovered through her own research that she was among the 40 to 50 percent of women with dense breast tissue — almost half the female population — but medical protocol did not require physicians to inform women of their dense tissue status. If she had known, she said, she would have gotten an ultrasound every year in addition to a mammogram that could have detected the cancer much earlier. Cappello said her breast surgeon estimated the cancer had been festering for four to five years under the radar of her annual mammograms.
Although ultrasound as a cancer screening tool has been available for decades, technological advances are helping doctors find more invasive cancers in women with dense breasts, in turn giving women who know their tissue status the opportunity for earlier detection and treatment.
"We know that the gold standard for breast cancer screening is mammography, but in women with dense breast tissue, up to one third of breast cancers can be missed with this modality alone."
Dr. Georgia Giakoumis Spear, chief of the department of breast imaging at NorthShore University HealthSystem in suburban Chicago and assistant professor of radiology at the University of Chicago, has been a leader in developing standards for the use of new ultrasound technology. She is leading a study to develop more specific national guidelines around the use of Automated Whole Breast Tissue Ultrasound (ABUS), a non-invasive procedure in which sound waves are used to scan breast tissue while a patient lies on her back with her arm over her head.
Approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2012, ABUS provides higher quality 3D images and faster delivery to provide more accurate results than past ultrasound technology. The scan does not involve radiation, and a practitioner can complete the process in 15 to 20 minutes, from patient preparation to image creation. NorthShore has been using ABUS since 2015, Dr. Spear said, and the technology can improve breast cancer detection in women with dense breasts by up to 55 percent.
"We know that the gold standard for breast cancer screening is mammography, but in women with dense breast tissue, up to one third of breast cancers can be missed with this modality alone," Spear says. "And when we supplement screening with ultrasound in this population of women, we have found a large number of cancers by ultrasound that are not visible on the mammogram."
Mammography should still be used as the first step for breast cancer detection, but if an initial mammogram shows that a patient has dense breast tissue, studies encourage discussion of additional screening with ultrasound.
On a mammogram, dense tissue appears white. So do cancerous masses, making them easy to miss.
A radiologist determines tissue density, according to the American College of Radiology's Breast Imaging Reporting and Data System (BI-RADS). "A" and "B" breast density categories designate ratios of mostly fatty, or non-dense tissues, while the "C" and "D" categories designate heterogeneously dense and extremely dense tissue, respectively. Such patients would be classified as having dense tissue. Younger women, women with lower levels of body fat and women undergoing hormone therapy are more likely to have C and D breast density.
On a mammogram, dense tissue appears white. So do cancerous masses, making them easy to miss. Fatty tissue, in comparison, appears black, making tumors easier to spot.
The FDA stated among its policy goals for 2018 that it's placing an improved focus on recognizing technological advances to help "ensure women get the most relevant, up-to-date information about their breast density, which is now recognized as a risk factor for breast cancer." An article in the March 2018 Journal of the American College of Radiology recommended supplemental screening for women with higher-than-average breast cancer risk, placing women with dense breast tissue in that category.
To be sure, some in the medical community are reluctant to push for ultrasounds, saying that a mammogram might be enough even if the woman has dense breast tissue. A patient is advised to discuss the option of ultrasound with her physician and they can decide from there.
Access to such information became political for Cappello after her diagnosis in 2004. She said that as she underwent six surgeries, a mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation and hormone therapy, she asked doctors why they weren't required to inform women of their dense breast tissue status. Her dissatisfaction with their responses led to the formation of Are You Dense, Inc., an advocacy group aimed to inform women of their medical options while working to pass legislation mandating that women know their tissue status. Other legislation has focused on mandating insurance coverage for breast ultrasounds.
Nancy Cappello.
(Courtesy)
Cappello's work led Connecticut to become the first state to pass an information law in 2009, and 35 states now have similar requirements. Depending on the state, the law could mandate that certain language or information about breast density be included in the patient's mammogram results, or require physicians to tell women about dense tissue if their breast density falls in the BI-RADS categories C and D. Other states might require that patients be given general information about breast density and advice to discuss their options with a physician. (Note: There is a chart on Cappello's website that shows what laws exist – or don't – in each state.)
Through her site and social media, she's connected with other women who've lobbied for laws in their states, including Dr. Spear, who recently testified before legislative committees in Illinois as they considered companion bills. The Illinois legislation is expected to be signed into law this summer.
"There should be no excuses," Cappello says. "Women should have this information. There should be no concealing or hiding of her status."
This man spent over 70 years in an iron lung. What he was able to accomplish is amazing.
It’s a sight we don’t normally see these days: A man lying prone in a big, metal tube with his head sticking out of one end. But it wasn’t so long ago that this sight was unfortunately much more common.
In the first half of the 20th century, tens of thousands of people each year were infected by polio—a highly contagious virus that attacks nerves in the spinal cord and brainstem. Many people survived polio, but a small percentage of people who did were left permanently paralyzed from the virus, requiring support to help them breathe. This support, known as an “iron lung,” manually pulled oxygen in and out of a person’s lungs by changing the pressure inside the machine.
Paul Alexander was one of several thousand who were infected and paralyzed by polio in 1952. That year, a polio epidemic swept the United States, forcing businesses to close and polio wards in hospitals all over the country to fill up with sick children. When Paul caught polio in the summer of 1952, doctors urged his parents to let him rest and recover at home, since the hospital in his home suburb of Dallas, Texas was already overrun with polio patients.
Paul rested in bed for a few days with aching limbs and a fever. But his condition quickly got worse. Within a week, Paul could no longer speak or swallow, and his parents rushed him to the local hospital where the doctors performed an emergency procedure to help him breathe. Paul woke from the surgery three days later, and found himself unable to move and lying inside an iron lung in the polio ward, surrounded by rows of other paralyzed children.
Hospitals were commonly filled with polio patients who had been paralyzed by the virus before a vaccine became widely available in 1955. Associated Press
Paul struggled inside the polio ward for the next 18 months, bored and restless and needing to hold his breath when the nurses opened the iron lung to help him bathe. The doctors on the ward frequently told his parents that Paul was going to die.But against all odds, Paul lived. And with help from a physical therapist, Paul was able to thrive—sometimes for small periods outside the iron lung.
The way Paul did this was to practice glossopharyngeal breathing (or as Paul called it, “frog breathing”), where he would trap air in his mouth and force it down his throat and into his lungs by flattening his tongue. This breathing technique, taught to him by his physical therapist, would allow Paul to leave the iron lung for increasing periods of time.
With help from his iron lung (and for small periods of time without it), Paul managed to live a full, happy, and sometimes record-breaking life. At 21, Paul became the first person in Dallas, Texas to graduate high school without attending class in person, owing his success to memorization rather than taking notes. After high school, Paul received a scholarship to Southern Methodist University and pursued his dream of becoming a trial lawyer and successfully represented clients in court.
Paul Alexander, pictured here in his early 20s, mastered a type of breathing technique that allowed him to spend short amounts of time outside his iron lung. Paul Alexander
Paul practiced law in North Texas for more than 30 years, using a modified wheelchair that held his body upright. During his career, Paul even represented members of the biker gang Hells Angels—and became so close with them he was named an honorary member.Throughout his long life, Paul was also able to fly on a plane, visit the beach, adopt a dog, fall in love, and write a memoir using a plastic stick to tap out a draft on a keyboard. In recent years, Paul joined TikTok and became a viral sensation with more than 330,000 followers. In one of his first videos, Paul advocated for vaccination and warned against another polio epidemic.
Paul was reportedly hospitalized with COVID-19 at the end of February and died on March 11th, 2024. He currently holds the Guiness World Record for longest survival inside an iron lung—71 years.
Polio thankfully no longer circulates in the United States, or in most of the world, thanks to vaccines. But Paul continues to serve as a reminder of the importance of vaccination—and the power of the human spirit.
““I’ve got some big dreams. I’m not going to accept from anybody their limitations,” he said in a 2022 interview with CNN. “My life is incredible.”
When doctors couldn’t stop her daughter’s seizures, this mom earned a PhD and found a treatment herself.
Twenty-eight years ago, Tracy Dixon-Salazaar woke to the sound of her daughter, two-year-old Savannah, in the midst of a medical emergency.
“I entered [Savannah’s room] to see her tiny little body jerking about violently in her bed,” Tracy said in an interview. “I thought she was choking.” When she and her husband frantically called 911, the paramedic told them it was likely that Savannah had had a seizure—a term neither Tracy nor her husband had ever heard before.
Over the next several years, Savannah’s seizures continued and worsened. By age five Savannah was having seizures dozens of times each day, and her parents noticed significant developmental delays. Savannah was unable to use the restroom and functioned more like a toddler than a five-year-old.
Doctors were mystified: Tracy and her husband had no family history of seizures, and there was no event—such as an injury or infection—that could have caused them. Doctors were also confused as to why Savannah’s seizures were happening so frequently despite trying different seizure medications.
Doctors eventually diagnosed Savannah with Lennox-Gaustaut Syndrome, or LGS, an epilepsy disorder with no cure and a poor prognosis. People with LGS are often resistant to several kinds of anti-seizure medications, and often suffer from developmental delays and behavioral problems. People with LGS also have a higher chance of injury as well as a higher chance of sudden unexpected death (SUDEP) due to the frequent seizures. In about 70 percent of cases, LGS has an identifiable cause such as a brain injury or genetic syndrome. In about 30 percent of cases, however, the cause is unknown.
Watching her daughter struggle through repeated seizures was devastating to Tracy and the rest of the family.
“This disease, it comes into your life. It’s uninvited. It’s unannounced and it takes over every aspect of your daily life,” said Tracy in an interview with Today.com. “Plus it’s attacking the thing that is most precious to you—your kid.”
Desperate to find some answers, Tracy began combing the medical literature for information about epilepsy and LGS. She enrolled in college courses to better understand the papers she was reading.
“Ironically, I thought I needed to go to college to take English classes to understand these papers—but soon learned it wasn’t English classes I needed, It was science,” Tracy said. When she took her first college science course, Tracy says, she “fell in love with the subject.”
Tracy was now a caregiver to Savannah, who continued to have hundreds of seizures a month, as well as a full-time student, studying late into the night and while her kids were at school, using classwork as “an outlet for the pain.”
“I couldn’t help my daughter,” Tracy said. “Studying was something I could do.”
Twelve years later, Tracy had earned a PhD in neurobiology.
After her post-doctoral training, Tracy started working at a lab that explored the genetics of epilepsy. Savannah’s doctors hadn’t found a genetic cause for her seizures, so Tracy decided to sequence her genome again to check for other abnormalities—and what she found was life-changing.
Tracy discovered that Savannah had a calcium channel mutation, meaning that too much calcium was passing through Savannah’s neural pathways, leading to seizures. The information made sense to Tracy: Anti-seizure medications often leech calcium from a person’s bones. When doctors had prescribed Savannah calcium supplements in the past to counteract these effects, her seizures had gotten worse every time she took the medication. Tracy took her discovery to Savannah’s doctor, who agreed to prescribe her a calcium blocker.
The change in Savannah was almost immediate.
Within two weeks, Savannah’s seizures had decreased by 95 percent. Once on a daily seven-drug regimen, she was soon weaned to just four, and then three. Amazingly, Tracy started to notice changes in Savannah’s personality and development, too.
“She just exploded in her personality and her talking and her walking and her potty training and oh my gosh she is just so sassy,” Tracy said in an interview.
Since starting the calcium blocker eleven years ago, Savannah has continued to make enormous strides. Though still unable to read or write, Savannah enjoys puzzles and social media. She’s “obsessed” with boys, says Tracy. And while Tracy suspects she’ll never be able to live independently, she and her daughter can now share more “normal” moments—something she never anticipated at the start of Savannah’s journey with LGS. While preparing for an event, Savannah helped Tracy get ready.
“We picked out a dress and it was the first time in our lives that we did something normal as a mother and a daughter,” she said. “It was pretty cool.”