The Strength of Cancer Women

 

Audre Lorde, breast and liver cancer

In her introduction to The Cancer Journals (1980), Audre Lorde, who had just gone through a mastectomy for breast cancer, sets out what she is going to talk about in her book: “the travesty of prosthesis, the pain of amputation, the function of cancer in a profit economy, my confrontation with mortality, the strength of women loving, and the power and rewards of self-conscious living.” 

When the book came out, American society tried to dismiss it as being relevant only to black, lesbian poets who had a mastectomy. Then they said it was only for women. Yet the book has so much wisdom, courage, and heart that it’s helpful for everyone who has been confronted with the trauma of cancer and has to deal with the economics of medical care.

Lorde’s first breast biopsy was negative, but a second one revealed malignant cancer, and she noted that there was none of the “excitement of [the first one’s] brand new experience.” It just had dread. After her mastectomy, she fought the pressure from her surgeon’s office to wear a prosthesis; the nurse encouraging her to wear one because otherwise it would be bad for morale in the office. Lorde felt that to wear one was a lie, and it reinforced society’s attitude towards woman as being decorations and sex objects. While most prosthetic devices served some practical function, like artificial limbs and dentures, a prosthetic breast was only decorative, and to wear one was to hide a harsh reality from others.

The journal was written eighteen months after her surgery. As she was putting the book together, she worried that going back into the emotions of the treatments would reopen her to the trauma of the disease. The fear of cancer coming back was often on her mind, as it is for everyone who has cancer. Every new symptom was suspicious: “A cold becomes sinister; a cough, lung cancer; a bruise, leukemia.”

Writing almost fifty years ago, Lorde addressed the need to pay more attention to the causes of cancer, especially environmental, and to do more for prevention – like eating food that is nutritional. We are still fighting these two battles. What is needed, she said, would be for an army of one-breasted women to descend on Congress and demand that they ban poisons in food, like the “carcinogenic, fat-stored hormones in beef-feed.”

But, she says “there is no profit in the prevention of cancer.” In 1980 she took the American Cancer Society (ACS) to task for suppressing the use of new and unconventional ideas and research like immunotherapy, diet, and hormone therapies, while European countries were exploring these options. Today these therapies are standard treatments in the U.S.

She said that in 1980 ACS was spending only 15% of its budget on assisting cancer patients, and was focused on treatments rather than prevention. According to its 2026 published numbers, it looks like 52% of the money is going to patient services, while only 10 to 15% is split among prevention, education, and information.

When the book came out, 50% of those who had breast cancer were alive after three years. This figure dropped to 30% if you were poor, Black, or part of the underserved parts of society. Because of awareness, earlier screenings, and new therapies, 99% of women who are diagnosed today in an early stage are alive five years later. If it has spread regionally, 87% live at least five years. If it has spread to a distant part of the body, 33% make it to five years. 

What helped Lorde cope was the compassion of women and reminding herself “of the joy, the lightness, the laughter so vital to my living and my health.” “I am learning to live beyond fear by living through it.” 

While she was willing to give up a breast in order to live, she didn’t want her journal to be a record of grieving. She wanted something that she could use later to remind her that she had the strength to get through the pain of amputation and recovery. 

Lorde developed breast cancer in 1978. It metastasized to her liver in 1984, and she died in 1992. Her book is a beacon that shows us how much work remains to be done to prevent cancer from starting. 

© 2026 Mark Liebenow