I’ve asked friends to fill in for me during the “bad” days of my chemotherapy treatment. This is one of those, as I’m going in for my second session. On these days I’m not only too distracted to write, I’m completely wired as I’ve been told to take five steroid pills the night before. The steroids have to do with the body being better able to absorb the chemicals.

Susan K., a friend and colleague since the mid 1980s, is today’s guest blogger. She is currently managing editor of a Northern California magazine called South Bay Accent.

It’s hard to fill in for Juli since this is clearly meant to be her voice. But I can’t help but think of her during all the controversy about changing the frequency of mammograms. Count me in as one who is upset that the test is being minimized. I’ve had a mammogram every year since my late thirties even though I have no close relatives with breast cancer. As my doctor said, why not? This is a disease that doesn’t just depend on family history or environment. It seems to silently sneak into people of all walks of life and at any age.

Why wouldn’t you want to find out early? I had a false positive one year, and it was tough, having to go in for extra tests, with that pit in my stomach, wondering if my luck had finally run out. Fortunately it hadn’t. But in a strange way, that fear made it even more obvious to me, even more important, to continue the annual routine. What if I had been diagnosed? Just like wearing a seat belt, the test lets you hedge your bets. Sure you might still drive into a wall, but at least you’ll survive to drive another day.

I was shocked at Thanksgiving when my friend Anne, a big-wig lawyer at Kaiser, launched in on how unnecessary annual mammograms are. She said that frequently the cancer would just go away by itself if people didn’t know they had it. Her argument was that the test creates more surgeries that are in themselves more dangerous than the disease. Even my friend Kara—a mellow jewelry maker from wine country—joined in and supported Anne’s opinion. I felt betrayed by the sisterhood.

I asked Kara if she had any friends with breast cancer. No, she said. But when Kara started imagining how she’d feel if any of her friends, several of whom were seated around the holiday table, developed cancer, she suddenly wasn’t so sure of herself.

Juli’s not the first person I know who’s had breast cancer, but I can hope she’s the last.

The problem with the new recommendations is that they do sound too much like another insurance industry ploy to cut costs and reduce benefits. The same day the mammogram recommendations made the news, I got my yearly letter from Blue Cross, telling me that in order to serve me better they’re raising my rates, this time by a whopping twenty-five percent. Does having too many tests lead to higher costs? Perhaps. But I’ve always had ridiculously high rates because years ago I was diagnosed with high cholesterol, and I take Lipitor. Apparently, from the insurance perspective there’s nothing worse than to be diagnosed early and to take steps that minimize future serious consequences. The message is that ignorance is bliss. Oops, sound familiar?

Yes, medical recommendations change all the time. But to pretend that it’s better not to know, that it causes too much stress for us poor women to handle—that just sounds paternalistic. I have my annual mammogram next week. Wish me luck. I just hope Anne and Kara never put off having a mammogram.

Juli, all the best to you.