How old were you when you first learned you were eligible for a mammogram? If you’re like me, that information only became clear after you found a lump of your own. And at that point, the rules and guidelines about when women can and can’t access breast cancer screening don’t feel relevant anymore—it’s too late. Except that it shouldn’t be.

Over the past year, something important has shifted in how people look for health information. More patients are turning to artificial intelligence (AI) tools like ChatGPT, not to replace their doctors, but to fill the long stretches of uncertainty between appointments. 

Many aspects of healthcare access in Canada are based on where you live. Access to genetic testing for hereditary cancer is no exception. In the first articles of this series, we spoke to Mykah Obrigewitch. Today, let’s meet Rebecca Dahle and explore where she may or may not be eligible to access genetic testing for hereditary cancer in Canada.

Many aspects of healthcare access in Canada are based on where you live. Access to genetic testing for hereditary cancer is no exception. To assess and illustrate this, we reached out to our community and spoke to five women to map where they would and would not be eligible to access genetic testing in Canada in the present day. This is Mykah's story.

I’m an open book about breast cancer. I’ve chosen to be vocal because I want to wipe out stigma, shine light on little-talked about topics and help other women feel less alone. When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, it didn’t cross my mind that one day I’d want to share all the details about my personal experiences with cancer by writing a monthly column, but life is weird and here I am. And I’m grateful. Especially when I receive a direct message on my Instagram from a woman I don’t know, who is dealing with her own breast cancer diagnosis and looking for support.

Jeanne lost her mother when she was 25, and her aunt also had breast cancer. When Jeanne was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer (TNBC), her children were still very young. In her blog, www.triplenegatif.blogspot.com, Jeanne returns to the multiple aspects of the breast: that of the woman, the mother, the sick person, then the reconstructed breast. Heredity and lineage, but also faith, are questioned in a lyrical, almost poetic and soul-searching way.

I was just 27 years old, newly engaged and planning my wedding, when I was diagnosed with HER2+ Stage 2 breast cancer. Overnight, my world shifted from picking out flowers and venues to chemotherapy appointments, surgery dates, and a treatment plan that included chemo, surgery, and radiation.

I remember the day vividly: as a time of solidarity with a group of friends, colleagues and survivors. It was a great day, the streets filled with incredible energy and glorious pink accessories, sunglasses, feather boas and countless women, and a few brave men, all joined in a moment of support. I proudly wore that first T-shirt not knowing that 15 years later, I would be more than a supporter—I would also be a survivor of breast cancer.

It would be easy to assume that breast cancer is a disease that largely affects white women. Historically, Western research in the sciences and medical fields has focused on white men and women; a widespread and deeply rooted effect of colonialism. For example, two commonly used indicators for identifying breast cancer risk, body mass index (BMI) and breast density, are largely based on white populations and may not be as accurate for Black and Asian women. 

Having a family history of breast cancer could mean two different things. About 5% to 10% of breast cancer cases are passed down from parent to child. Sometimes, several people in a family may have breast or other types of cancer. But even when no inherited or familial connection is found, breast cancer can still happen unexpectedly.