Hyun Lee is fighting the return of breast cancer, three years after the original diagnosis with the vision of a social justice activist and the skills of an acupuncturist, her sword and shield. While breast cancer runs in her mother's family, Hyun never thought she would get breast cancer at age 42 and certainly not again at age 45, this time in a rare, but aggressive form, after undergoing a mastectomy. In dealing with the uncertainty of her very survival, Hyun discovered the "formula" to facing a terminal illness with the right dose of optimism and realism.
Immigrating at age 10 to the U.S. from South Korea, Hyun, the daughter of school bus drivers, lived in rural pockets of Indiana and Florida before making Woodside, Queens her home. Navigating her identity as an Asian American in a bi-racial South in the 1980's made facing police brutality head on in New York City appealing! After she spent several years as a hardcore community activist with Committee Against Anti-Asian Violence fighting police brutality and evictions in Manhattan's Chinatown, Hyun then transitioned into Eastern medicine and became an acupuncturist, opening her own office in Queens.
Immigrating at age 10 to the U.S. from South Korea, Hyun, the daughter of school bus drivers, lived in rural pockets of Indiana and Florida before making Woodside, Queens her home. Navigating her identity as an Asian American in a bi-racial South in the 1980's made facing police brutality head on in New York City appealing! After she spent several years as a hardcore community activist with Committee Against Anti-Asian Violence fighting police brutality and evictions in Manhattan's Chinatown, Hyun then transitioned into Eastern medicine and became an acupuncturist, opening her own office in Queens.
In 2013, Hyun discovered the lump in her breast through a self-examination and underwent a mastectomy. Then, in 2015 from January to May, her body began experiencing unusual changes and what she thought were "unconnected" problems. First, a rash appeared across her chest, followed by a persistent, hacking cough with water seeping into her lungs, a fever and chills, and then her other breast began to swell.
A good friend in Pennsylvania found a specialist, one of the few in the country, who researches inflammatory cancer. He prescribed an aggressive treatment for Hyun.
Silent at first, Hyun eventually disclosed the news of her terminal diagnosis to her lover who had just lost her mother to breast cancer, friends, and later, her patients.
One endearing patient, a musician and construction worker from Ireland responded to the news by offering to hold a concert this summer to raise money for more breast cancer screening in the community.
But, it was telling her parents that was the hardest and the most rewarding experience
But, it was telling her parents that was the hardest and the most rewarding experience
Through the lens of a community organizer who has survived crushing "defeats" and as an acupuncturist, Hyun sees how breast cancer treatment is limited by political and economic forces and advocates for a holistic approach. She sees how the politics of the pharmaceutical companies impede developments of other ways of treating people than toxic medication and how treatment of the illness can impact those without insurance and other safety nets.
Hyun welcomes others to share with her how they approach life and death. While laughing with her young nieces and finally having weekends off are times she cherishes, she remains an activist at heart supporting ongoing and new causes. She continues to work for peace on the Korean Peninsula with plans to adapt her acupuncture practice to help more women living with breast cancer.
For Hyun, the illness has opened up new perspectives, a revelation of how she wants to lead a meaning life in a new way.