My Density Matters

enero 12 2026

Advocates: The Heartbeat of Breast Cancer Research & Care

Dixie Swartwood Ask, Learn, Insist, & Persist Stories

I’ve been a part of My Density Matters for more than four years, but this year marked a powerful first for me: attending the San Antonio Breast Cancer Symposium (SABCS). It involved a week away from home in what initially felt like a foreign landscape. Walking into SABCS, I wasn’t sure what to expect, who I would meet, what the energy would feel like, or where I would fit in. What I found was something far greater than I could have imagined.

SABCS is a convergence of science, innovation, and humanity. Scientists, oncologists, radiologists, physicians, pharmaceutical and technology leaders, researchers, survivors, and thrivers all come together with one shared goal: to cure breast cancer and improve the lives of those impacted by it. Woven throughout every session and conversation was something just as essential, advocacy.

What struck me most was the openness. Survivor advocates who cannot change their own stories, yet dedicate themselves to ensuring others benefit from their hard-earned knowledge. Researchers who dream not only of discovery, but of care and cure. Physicians searching for better ways to educate their patients and answer their questions. Kindness and compassion were present in every conversation, along with a shared understanding that breast cancer affects the whole person in ways deeper than most can comprehend.

I hadn’t always thought of myself as an advocate. I work for a nonprofit, and I deeply believe in our mission. But here, I truly understood what advocacy means. Advocates are the bridge between science and lived experience. They show up on behalf of those who can’t. They remind us that behind every statistic is a person, and they ensure that data never overshadows humanity.

At the center of the conference, both physically and symbolically, was the Patient Advocate Pavilion, featuring more than 28 unique organizations dedicated to supporting patients across every stage of the breast cancer journey. Every advocate has a “why.” A story. A loss. A diagnosis. A determination to change outcomes for the next person.

Advocates are the heartbeat of the breast cancer community, and I am grateful to be included. As a mother of two daughters, it is unacceptable that despite advances in science, diagnoses continue to rise and mortality rates from breast cancer persist. This disease affects all of us, and it must stop.

As a community, we will continue to fight for better outcomes, more empathetic care for those diagnosed, and education that supports early detection. Breast cancer is curable when caught early. This is the power of advocacy.

octubre 13 2025

National Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day: A Letter from Leslie

Leslie Ferris Yerger Ask, Learn, Insist, & Persist Stories

Today, October 13, 2025, is National Metastatic Breast Cancer Awareness Day. I am now almost eight years metastatic, and I am thriving.

Almost eight years ago, I was diagnosed with stage IV de novo breast cancer just two months after receiving an all-clear mammogram and ultrasound. I had no symptoms, no warning signs — it was the shock of my life. I quickly learned that breast cancer had been hiding in my dense breast tissue, invisible on a mammogram, for possibly a decade.

I Am Grateful

I am grateful to still be here. Grateful for every sunrise, every hug, every ordinary moment that adds up to an extraordinary life. I am grateful for the doctors, researchers, friends, and family who have supported me since my diagnosis. And I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to turn my experience into purpose through Mi densidad importa — helping women learn what I didn’t know soon enough.

I Am Hopeful

I am hopeful because I see progress. Awareness of dense breast tissue is growing. Conversations are happening in doctors’ offices that never used to happen. More women are learning to ask the right questions, to understand their own risk, and to take action. Hope thrives in knowledge, and it grows stronger every time a woman learns about her breast density and takes action accordingly.

But I Am Frustrated

I am frustrated because, despite progress, too many women are still dying from breast cancer that could have been found earlier. Too many are still diagnosed at later stages. Too many women (and doctors) still assume a “normal” mammogram means they are safe — when for women with dense breasts, that may not be true. Dense breast tissue can hide cancer and poses an increased risk, and yet so many women are still not being screened with available technologies beyond mammography when they should be. We know better — and we must do better.

A Personal Ask

From me to you — please, find out your breast density and talk with your doctor about your additional screening options. Use the tools and the knowledge now available to you, so my story doesn’t become your story.

Cuanto Mi densidad importa website can help you understand what to ask, what to do next, and how to take charge of your breast health.

Breast density hinders the early detection of breast cancer, and early detection saves lives.
Please, take action today!

With gratitude,

Leslie Ferris Yerger
CEO & Founder, Mi densidad importa

septiembre 15 2025

Listening to My Intuition: My Breast Cancer Story and the Truth About Dense Breast

Lisa Norman Ask, Learn, Insist, & Persist Stories

This is personal, but I share it because for women like me—and nearly 50% of the women in your life—this could make all the difference. I never wanted another woman to go through what I did, which is why I’m telling my story.

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, the tumor was found in my right breast. Through all the screenings and tests, my left breast was always labeled “healthy.” But I knew my body, and I knew I had dense breast tissue—a detail that, at the time, felt more like a technicality on my mammogram report than a real risk factor.

I’m a mom to three amazing daughters. I’ve always tried to set an example when it comes to taking care of our health. And with my mom being a two-time breast cancer survivor, I thought I was well informed. We talked about breast cancer openly in our family. I was proactive about my screenings, did my self-exams, and thought I was doing everything right. But the truth is, I had no idea how much I didn’t know—especially when it came to dense breast tissue.

Here’s what I wish everyone knew: Dense breast tissue doesn’t just make cancer harder to see on a mammogram; it actually increases your risk of developing breast cancer. No one explained what that really meant for me, or what my screening options were. I had to dig for those answers myself, and it was honestly terrifying.

I remember sitting in doctor’s offices, hearing recommendations for a lumpectomy on my right breast. But my intuition—and everything I’d started to learn about dense breast tissue—told me I needed to fight for a double mastectomy. It wasn’t an easy decision, and it certainly wasn’t easy to advocate for myself every step of the way. I was met with questions, hesitancy, and sometimes outright resistance. But I persisted, because deep down, I knew something more was going on.

Four days after my surgery, my surgeon called and asked if I was sitting down. I’ll never forget her words: “It’s a good thing you listened to your intuition. Your left breast was loaded with cancer. Loaded.”

Despite every screening, nothing had shown up in my left breast. The dense tissue had completely masked the cancer. If I hadn’t pushed for that double mastectomy, my story could have taken a very different turn. That moment changed everything for me. Even with resources, support, and a background in health advocacy, navigating these decisions was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I kept thinking: If it was this hard for me, what about women who don’t have the same support or information? What about the women who trust their “all clear” mammogram report, not realizing that dense breast tissue could be hiding something serious?

That’s why I founded For The Love Of Cups. My mission is simple: to make sure no woman is left in the dark about her breast health—especially when it comes to dense breast tissue. We work to educate, empower, and support women so they can make informed decisions, advocate for themselves, and access the advanced screenings they may need. I want every woman to know that your intuition matters. If something doesn’t feel right, don’t be afraid to ask questions, push for more information, or seek a second opinion. Dense breast tissue isn’t just a line on your mammogram report; it’s a real risk factor that deserves real attention.

If my story can help even one woman catch her cancer earlier, or give her the courage to advocate for herself, then sharing it is worth every vulnerable moment. You are not alone, and your voice matters. Together, we can change the way breast cancer is detected and treated for women with dense breast tissue. Thank you for reading, for listening, and for being part of this movement for better breast health.

With love and hope,
Lisa Malia Norman

septiembre 8 2025

Ashley Inda: Turning Survival into Advocacy

Ashley Inda Ask, Learn, Insist, & Persist Stories

Ashley Inda is a mother of two, business owner of Growth Therapy, occupational therapist, and breast cancer survivor whose life’s work is driven by a powerful mission — ensuring women with dense breasts have access to the supplemental screening that could save their lives.

Her journey began at age 35, when she noticed several new lumps in her breast shortly after finishing nursing her daughter. A mammogram and ultrasound revealed only “dense breast tissue” and no sign of cancer. Relieved, Ashley tried to move forward, but within months, one lump hardened and grew. At follow-up appointments, her concerns were again brushed aside as “just dense breast tissue,” a phrase that falsely reassured her but in reality masked the growing danger. Dense breast tissue cannot be diagnosed by touch and is one of the strongest predictors of mammography’s failure to detect cancer.

For two years, the cancer silently advanced. Ashley lived with pain, swelling, and tenderness that made even hugs from her children uncomfortable. She tried to quiet the worry in her mind, convincing herself it was nothing serious. Finally, she pushed for more testing. That persistence led to an on-the-spot biopsy and a devastating diagnosis: Stage III, triple-positive breast cancer that had already spread to her lymph nodes.

The next two years brought an intense treatment plan — chemotherapy, bilateral mastectomy, immunotherapy, radiation, hormone therapy, and reconstruction surgery. When it was over, Ashley was cancer-free, but her perspective had changed forever.

Now, she channels her hard-earned lessons into action.

By day, Ashley is an occupational therapist, working with five to six cancer patients daily, many recovering from breast cancer or lymph node involvement. She understands their fears and frustrations because she has walked the same road. She incorporates mindfulness into her sessions, encouraging patients to address intrusive thoughts rather than ignore them. She even suggests giving these thoughts a name, such as “Winston,” as a way to strip them of power and keep them from dominating the present moment.

Her work extends far beyond her clinic. Ashley volunteers with the Wisconsin Breast Cancer Coalition and partners with Mi densidad importa to spread awareness about the risks of dense breasts and the importance of supplemental screening. She educates women on critical facts — such as the 4–6 times higher likelihood of developing breast cancer if you have dense breasts, and how both dense tissue and cancer appear white on a mammogram, making detection extremely challenging.

Ashley is also a determined legislative advocate. She is working to advance Gail’s Law, a bill requiring insurance coverage for supplemental screening in women with dense breasts. The bill has gained more momentum this year than in past attempts. For Ashley, the stakes are urgent: since 2013, breast cancer rates among women under 50 have risen by 40%.

Even with her advocacy and clinical work, Ashley keeps family at the forefront. She structures her workday around school drop-offs and pick-ups, ensuring she’s present for practices. She’s also launching her own private practice, Growth Therapy, a healing space dedicated to supporting individuals navigating cancer recovery.

Her message is clear: MY STORY MATTERS — and so does yours.

septiembre 1 2025

Jeff’s Journey: From First Steps to 200 Miles

Jillian Landry News

When Jeff first started running in his early 30s, his goal was simple: complete a half marathon. From there, his curiosity and determination pushed him further — into marathons, triathlons, and eventually the world of ultrarunning. Today, he is in the midst of one of the sport’s most challenging feats: the Triple Crown of 200s.

This series includes the Tahoe 200, the Bigfoot 200, and the Moab 240, races that test both body and mind. Covering hundreds of miles over rugged terrain and extreme conditions, runners push through days with little rest. Jeff’s first Moab 240 took 112 hours, during which he slept less than four hours in total and even hallucinated during the last two nights. Fortunately, those hallucinations were more whimsical than frightening — tree branches seemed to come alive under his headlamp.

The journey through these races is about more than just movement. Sometimes Jeff runs alone, deep in thought or listening to music and podcasts. Other times, he’s with fellow runners or pacers, exchanging stories and forming bonds. His favorite moments are when his kids join him to pace sections of the race. “You get hours to really talk about life,” he says. “Even with my kids, I learn new things.”

Training for such massive challenges is a discipline in itself. Jeff devotes 15–18 hours each week to a combination of treadmill sessions, stair climbing, weightlifting, and evening walks around Lake Zurich with a 40-pound vest. He averages about 25,000 steps per day, focusing on building endurance rather than speed. “It’s 90% mental, and the other 10% is in your head,” he says with a smile.

Nutrition plays a critical role in success. During the races, Jeff consumes 250–300 calories per hour, using everything from sports gels and electrolyte mixes to candy bars. Aid stations can serve pizza, soup, bacon, pickle quesadillas, and more — but preferences shift quickly over the course of hundreds of miles. “What sounds great at one aid station can sound awful at the next,” Jeff says. Coca-Cola remains a reliable go-to for its sugar and caffeine — “like rocket fuel” for runners.

For Jeff, these efforts have a deeper purpose: raising awareness and support for Mi densidad importa, an organization dedicated to educating women about breast density and its impact on breast cancer risk. This mission has already made a tangible difference. After a presentation at his workplace, a colleague’s sister sought screening that led to the early detection of breast cancer. “Who knows? We might have saved her life,” Jeff reflects.

His friends and running community have been unwavering in their support, many volunteering to crew, pace, or coach him along the way. They celebrate his accomplishments while marveling at the distances he covers — sometimes joking that they wouldn’t even want to drive that far.

Moab will be Jeff’s last 200-mile race for now, but his running journey is far from over. In April, he’ll represent Orange Business Americas at the Paris Marathon, trading mountain trails for city streets. Whether in the wilds of Washington or the heart of Paris, Jeff runs with the same drive: to test his limits, inspire others, and make every mile count toward saving lives.