By Mandy Miles

Lori Reid had to get something off her chest, quite literally.

Her breasts had betrayed her. The cancer that infiltrated them could have killed her, and Reid refused to live in suspicion of her own body, waiting for the threat to return.

They had to go.

“It’ll be 10 years this summer,” Reid said.

She smiled over a glass of wine during a recent Key West afternoon on Duval Street and recalled her fateful mammogram at Womankind and the trouble it revealed: triple-negative breast cancer, an aggressive form that can multiply rapidly. She also remembered the bra that may have saved her life.

“I had gotten a new bra,” she said, “And I had been a little complacent in doing my breast self-exams. But when I was putting on that new bra, I felt a lump.”

That lump launched a new chapter in Reid’s life, the one every woman wonders if she’ll face.

“Triple-negative breast cancer is aggressive; it’s slash and burn,” Reid said.

She was diagnosed in April 2014 and started chemotherapy injections on June 1. The chemo would last about 20 months, with an infusion every couple of weeks, until November 2016.

Reid worked at the Tropic Cinema when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, and continued to work throughout her chemo treatments, treasuring the support and love from her colleagues and customers, who were all aware of Reid’s breast cancer battle.

“I must be the only Black woman who can’t wear wigs,” she said, laughing. “So I was the bald woman with huge earrings” — and a smile that even chemotherapy couldn’t dim. 

“Everyone just loved on me to no end; this community is amazing,” she said, giving special thanks to her close friend and former boss at the Tropic, Matthew Helmerich.”There were people at the synagogue who started a prayer circle for me; and everyone was just so supportive during my treatments.”

Reid also got plenty of support and TLC at home from Kenny Adams, her partner of more than a decade at the time — and his dog, Bubba.

“And it worked,” Reid said. “The chemo killed the cancer; it was gone. But I didn’t trust my breasts. I knew it could come back, and I wasn’t going to just wait for that to happen, so they had to go.

“I wasn’t attached to my breasts by then; they had betrayed me,” said Reid, now 70, and a mother of two adult children. “So I finished chemo in November, and had a double mastectomy (breast removal) the week before Christmas — because I’m cheap, and wanted to make sure I had already met my insurance deductible for that year. 

Months after the double mastectomy, Reid had reconstructive surgery for breast implants

 “I still wanted to fill out a sweater,” she said. “I was 60 then. If it happened today, I don’t know if it would have been as important to me. In fact, losing my hair was tougher for me than losing my breasts, because the breasts were in my control. That was my decision. My hair left me.”

Reid, a San Diego native, moved to Key West in 1999. She worked first for Key West Art & Historical Society, in the museum shop at the Custom House. Then she became a fixture at the Tropic until retiring in 2017. 

Two years after beating breast cancer, Reid faced another battle when Kenny Adams, her partner of 16 years, passed away. 

“I had met him on a bar stool at the Green Parrot. The loss of a spouse or partner is something we have to survive as well,” she said. “The loss of my breasts was such a small thing compared to the loss of Kenny. I didn’t trust my breasts anymore, but I loved, loved Kenny. And I thank God every day that he left me the house — and the dog, Bubba. And that forced me to get up and get out of bed every day. I had to live and continue for this dog.”

And she did. 

“I miss him every day, but you know, I have the remote in MY hand, finally; I can eat cereal for breakfast — and I have Bubba,” she said. Not one to sit still, Reid joined the board of the Key West Literary Seminar and now works three days a week at Books & Books, at the corner of Eaton and Simonton streets. “I’m 

As for the breast cancer, Reid said she hasn’t had to see an oncologist since year 5 after her surgery.

“I’m not gonna lie, chemo is tough, but my doctors were great and they beat that cancer with a stick,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “But it’s strange. I never actually thought or worried I was going to die from cancer. It was something I had to live with for a while, like a bad roommate.”

But of course, not every cancer comes with the same chances of successful treatment, and to me, those people are the true warriors, the truly strong survivors. I’ve just learned we have to fill our lives with things we’re passionate about. That’s what enables us to go on.”

NO ONE WALKS ALONE

By Jen Alexander 

When someone in the Middle Keys begins to battle breast cancer, Shayne Messina is the shoulder they lean on.

A courageous survivor who battled ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) in 2015, Messina has a powerful message for the women of the Florida Keys: Prioritize your health and get regular mammograms. Her urgent plea comes during Breast Cancer Awareness Month, a time to champion early detection and empower women to take charge of their health.

“I get a mammogram every year,” she said. “It’s so important that women get screened because I didn’t even have a lump or any signs or symptoms. I just went in for the appointment like I do every year and they found it with the X-ray machine. It was small, but they caught it early, so I feel very fortunate.” 

Ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS) targets the delicate cells of the breast’s milk ducts. These cells turn traitorous (malignant), but remain trapped within their confines (in situ). DCIS is a precursor to breast cancer, representing approximately 20% of cases. While often silent, it can be exposed on a mammogram, revealing itself as microscopic clusters of calcification. Although non-invasive, DCIS is a serious matter that demands attention.

Messina’s treatment involved a targeted lumpectomy and radiation therapy, but she was spared the grueling ordeal of chemotherapy due to the early detection. In line with the latest medical guidance from the Centers for Disease Control, the United States Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) has reinforced the importance of early breast cancer screening. They now recommend that all women aged 40 to 74 get  mammograms at least every two years if not annually.

Messina readily admits that compared to many others, her treatment experience itself was “a little blip” because of her early detection. And today, she laughs: “You could look at my boobs and you’d never know there was anything wrong. Breast cancer survivors have no qualms showing their boobs – we’re so used to being poked and prodded.”

Despite her short experience, she distinctly remembered one act of kindness at Lynn Cancer Center that began her journey of support for other women in the Keys.

“The day of my surgery, this nurse in pink scrubs came to the door and said, ‘I’m here for you.’ I said ‘Oh, I’m just going in to get my surgery.’ She said, ‘No. That’s my job – to make sure nobody walks this hall alone. That’s why I’m here.’ She didn’t have to be there, but she was there for every breast cancer surgery that was going on.”

The philosophy stuck.

“That really impacted me,” she said. “And most people tell me they’ve had similar experiences wherever they go; there’s a very supportive network and team.”

Today, Messina is one of the faces of the American Cancer Society in the Keys, along with a main driver of Marathon’s annual Hope Walk (formerly known as the Strides Walk). Her phone rings with calls from friends and strangers alike who are beginning their own battles – and it’s not until hours later that she hangs up.

“Sometimes, all they want is somebody to talk to, yell at, b*** to, whatever,” she said. “I just sit there and listen, and let them say whatever they want. They say, ‘I feel so much better since I talked to you,’ and I tell them to call any time.”

Messina’s breast cancer diagnosis was the first in her family. Now, she says, doctors are telling all of her relatives to go ahead and start their screenings – even those under 40, as some cancers are genetic and early testing can identify mutations.

Mutations to the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes are called Hereditary Breast and Ovarian Cancer Syndrome, and are the leading cause of hereditary breast cancer. Both men and women can have these mutations. The CDC writes that 7% of women in the United States will develop breast cancer by age 70. But for women with BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutations, that number jumps to 50%. 

“Approximately one in eight women are diagnosed with or affected by breast cancer,” said Messina. “We really can’t emphasize enough how important it is to go get those mammograms. It’s definitely uncomfortable and nobody likes it, but it’s fast and it could save your life. So just go get it done.”

Manuela Carrillo Mobley had enough with the dictatorship in Venezuela. She left her family and homeland for a brighter future in the U.S. Her journey to achieve the American dream wasn’t easy, however. She worked from the rooftop in the South Florida heat. She even went through a period of homelessness.

Breaking Barriers

In the words of Manuela Carrillo Mobley

Let’s rewind to 2004. As a native, I said “adios” to Venezuela in pursuit of the American dream.

Having a dictator running my country was no joke. I never thought I’d live a life waiting hours to buy meat, only to find it had run out. I never expected to be robbed frequently or unable to go out at night due to rampant crime.

I was stuck there and had no way to support my parents. I had to do something to change this. In 2004, I arrived in Miami. I was 19 at the time.

Language wasn’t a hurdle when I arrived in the Sunshine state. I learned English in Venezuela, so when I arrived in Miami, I thought speaking English was really all I needed to get work. I was wrong — and young. I had no diploma or anything to back me up. It was only my word, my resilience and my desire to work hard and prove myself.

The lack of jobs paying a decent wage was a big challenge for myself and other single Latina women. But I did manage to get one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, and started climbing, as in, to the roof. It’s true. I learned to fix roofs in South Florida, stumbling upon the unlikely opportunity through a general contractor I’d met (long story). The job was tough. And hot. But it paid enough to make financial independence in a new country possible.

Obviously, proving myself in a male-dominated industry was no walk in the park. The guys saw me as a distraction, not a coworker and certainly not an equal. I kept asking for contracts, but kept getting only the “easy” stuff, which meant less money.

But I refused to be sidelined. Armed with the tenacity of a Capricorn, I soaked up roofing skills and knowledge like a desert cactus in a rare rain shower. After starting as an “observer” on the big projects, I moved up to assistant and eventually called the shots as a team leader. I climbed that ladder one shingle at a time (pun intended) until 2004, when it all took an unexpected turn. My personal relationship faltered, leaving me homeless in a foreign land and hurting for money. My family — my main support system — was thousands of miles away in Venezuela.

I slept in my minivan behind the restaurant where I worked. They let me use their bathroom and the manager of a nearby nightclub, who lived in a small apartment behind the club, let me use her shower.

A cop once knocked on my window while I was asleep. I feared I’d be arrested, but instead he offered me $20 for gas and told me about a nearby shelter. He was concerned for my safety. I wasn’t. I was embarrassed, defeated and depressed, but not worried about safety. It’s funny how circumstances change you.

I was malnourished. I couldn’t afford food, so I ate whatever they gave me at the restaurant. I saved every dollar I earned to get a place to live.

I don’t have any pictures of those times — who wants to remember being homeless? But I remember clearly looking up at the sky and the stars through my car window, tears falling, wondering what the hell was I going to do. How would I tell my parents I’m homeless? How would I go back and tell them I’d failed?

I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And I didn’t. I never told them about my struggles. My parents had enough to deal with back home; I wouldn’t add more pain. And I decided I wouldn’t wallow. I refused to despair. I hustled harder, working three jobs, making coffee at the restaurant in the morning, serving lunch in the afternoon and hosting at a club at night. The work was exhausting. I slept four to five hours a day in my car for almost three months, saving every penny to claw my way out of the van and into a place of my own.

Determined to acquire marketable skills, I seized every opportunity for self-improvement. I thought to myself, if the opportunity doesn’t present itself, then you have to find a way to create opportunity. It all depends on how badly you want it. And I wanted it badly.

Years passed and resilience eventually paid off and led me to new paths. I landed a job for AT&T in November 2005 and had a successful career working within their different departments for almost 10 years.

I seized an opportunity to establish a retail shop with T-Mobile, a competitor of AT&T. I teamed up with investors to make this dream a reality in May 2015. Located in the heart of Key Largo at the Pink Plaza, my store thrived for almost three years before I decided to sell it. During that time I met influential members of the Florida Keys community and got involved with amazing organizations.

With a retired software engineer as my now husband and life partner, I delved into the world of website design and digital marketing. He told me that If I wanted to make the big bucks in this field, I needed to “level up.” Enrolling at the University of Miami, I honed my skills and graduated as a professional in digital marketing, equipped with the tools to thrive in the digital realm. I also opened “Digital Keys Inc. during this time and freelance website work.

My next venture began when I applied for a digital marketing position at Overseas Media Group, the digital arm of Keys Weekly Media. However, with my sales and management experience, I was offered a different role, which I eagerly accepted and executed for two years.

Looking back, I had the privilege of serving as the sales director for both Keys Weekly and OMG, two amazing companies that shaped the way businesses in our community embraced both traditional and digital marketing. My time there wasn’t just about sales; it was about being part of something bigger, including advocating for womens’ rights and equal pay, values these companies proudly stood for. The impact of those days and the shared goals we championed will always hold a special place in my heart.

This experience motivated me to pursue a position with the Key Largo Chamber of Commerce, supporting the community and getting more involved with nonprofits, a world unknown to me. Today, I proudly serve as the new membership and marketing coordinator for the Key Largo Chamber, growing a caring and passionate team.

From leaving Venezuela to fighting through the struggles in South Florida, I believe in the beauty of dreaming and going after what you want. So to all the fierce mujeres out there, stand tall, fight fiercely and never let anyone dim your shine. After all, the world is your playground, so go out and conquer.

Nothing matters but your will to succeed and the strength of your heart.