VERA, LYDIA, NADEZHDA: THE STORY OF LIVING, LOVING, AND DANCING WITH CANCER

In the winter of 2002 my grandma died of breast cancer, missing her 77th birthday by 21 days. A few months later, getting ready to celebrate her 49th year, my mom was diagnosed with the same disease. I am 24, and although I am grateful to be cancer-free, I lost two unborn children to the treatment of a serious breast abnormality. Three women, separated in time, yet united in space. The space that is full of sorrow but never fear, full of laughter but never denial, full of pain but never regret, and full of life but never death. This autoethnographic account tells the story of our space.