Survivor Jane Regan: Still on the journey, but grateful and happy where I am

by ELLYN SANTIAGO

 

Jane Regan loves the outdoors, gardening, yoga, and reading. The 63-year-old married mother of two adult children and grandmother of one lives in Niantic. She’s an Old Lyme school district eighth-grade teacher. 

Living a happy life, her breast cancer diagnosis in 2025 was at once very unwelcome but not completely unexpected. Jane had a feeling. Something inside her wondered. 

Jane had dense breast tissue and, thanks to a proactive OB-GYN, underwent regular mammograms and ultrasounds. Over the years, occasional concerns always proved benign, creating a pattern of “wait and see.”

“A couple times we’d feel something, I’d go back for an ultrasound, and it would be fine. I lived with that for a long time,” Jane said. “But in November 2024 …that feeling. That something. Maybe intuition. I just had a feeling, so I went again.”

Imaging showed a slightly suspicious area in her left breast. She was given the option to wait six months or see a breast surgeon. Choosing not to delay, she met with the surgeon, who again suggested it was likely nothing but offered an MRI. She chose not to wait.

“I’m sick of waiting. Let’s just do this.”

“I always had something in the back of my mind that I’d be dealing with this at some point. Maybe because of all those ultrasounds.”

The MRI revealed cancer—not in the left breast, but in the right. Within days, she underwent multiple biopsies, and by early May 2025, cancer in the right breast was confirmed. A whirlwind of appointments followed.

“My husband laughs because he said the oncologist didn’t even have a chance to go through other options,” she recalled. “The only decision for me was a bilateral mastectomy.”

Throughout it all, her husband, Mike, was by her side, taking careful notes and helping her process everything.

“He asked questions I didn’t think of and wrote everything down so I could go back later. That was invaluable.”

Jane underwent surgery on July 23, 2025.

“I remember lying there right before surgery, and it suddenly hit me—I just started to cry. The surgeon came in and explained everything and said, ‘I’ll see you in a little while.’ And I thought, this is real. This is breast cancer.”

A nurse took her hand. “She looked me in the eyes and said, ‘You’re going to be just fine. I’ve been through this too.’ It was exactly what I needed—simple, honest, and human. I never saw her again, but it stayed with me.”

The procedure was successful: the cancer was caught at Stage 1, with no lymph node involvement.

Later that summer, she developed an infection that required additional care but did not impact her implants. She briefly returned to work.

“I went back for a couple of days and people were looking at me like, ‘What are you doing here?’”

She soon realized she needed more time.

“My coworkers were incredible. People brought things to the house. My sister-in-law, who’s a survivor, had a recliner delivered. Furniture was moved—things I didn’t even know I’d need. I thought I’d just have bandages and be fine, but I truly needed that support.”

Taking September off allowed her to rest and recover. She returned to her classroom in early October and has continued moving forward in a positive direction.

 

Walking the Walk

She had participated in the TBBCF Walk for a Cure about 20 years earlier, and again a few years later, but eventually she stepped away. 

But for the 20th Walk for a Cure in October 2025 she was motivated to return.

“I didn’t tell many people because I knew they’d say I shouldn’t. I didn’t want to hear that.”

She shared her plan with a small circle. One close friend asked to join, saying it would be an honor. They began the full route together, joined by the friend’s daughter. Along the way, more loved ones joined—another close friend, two sisters-in-law, and eventually her family.

When they passed her home in Niantic, her son stood outside with his infant daughter, alongside her daughter, holding signs. They joined for the final stretch, along with her daughter-in-law, forming a growing, deeply personal entourage.

By the time they reached Harkness, the moment felt powerful.

“That was a pretty amazing feeling,” she said.

Jane had expected to finish. What she hadn’t expected was what came next.

When invited to stand with the other survivors, she hesitated, feeling she didn’t yet belong.

“I said, ‘I’ve only had this for three months.’”

Encouraged by others, including a fellow survivor, she stepped forward. Listening to women share stories of 10, 20, even 30 years, she felt both humbled and deeply moved. There was strength, gratitude—and joy—surrounded by families celebrating life.

She was still early in her journey, but she stood among them. Jane wept as she recalled the moment. 

She’s a survivor.

“I was up there with them,” she shared. “I’m still on the journey, but I’m just really grateful and happy where I am.”

And Jane is especially grateful for the sense of sisterhood she found along the way.

“Women are so powerful, so compassionate,” Jane said. “That sisterhood was incredibly helpful at every stage of this journey.”