YOUNGSTOWN -- Raised by a cousin from infancy after her teenage mother couldn't care for her, the odds were somewhat stacked against Pearl Gibson from a young age.
She had a difficult childhood. She wasn't allowed to have fun socializing with other children and was often bullied.
"All I could do was come home and do my chores. I was not allowed to do anything," Gibson, now 79, said. "I was often told I was going to grow up to be just like my mom and would be a nobody. That is when I made up my mind that I am going to be somebody. I was a fighter from an early age."
Ten years ago, following a successful nursing career, Gibson faced a different, unexpected battle.
After a routine yearly mammogram, her doctor asked her to return to St. Elizabeth Youngstown Hospital. She did not go with a supportive friend or family member.
She went alone.
Gibson was told that her mammogram revealed a tumor in one breast. Following the diagnosis, in an attempt to spare her loved ones the sadness and despair she felt, she decided to keep the news to herself, something she later regretted.
As she began to experience symptoms, she knew it was time to tell her family what was happening.
"I didn't tell anyone. That was the hardest thing. I made it harder on them because I kept it to myself," Gibson said. "When I did tell them later, seeing my children and grandchildren crying, I knew it had been a mistake not telling them earlier."
She was asymptomatic before the diagnosis and for a short time afterward.
Her treatment took place at St. Elizabeth Youngstown Hospital. Dr. Nancy Gantt was her oncologist and Dr. Adam Cash performed her breast reconstruction.
Treatment, which lasted about a year, took a toll on Gibson.
"Chemotherapy. Oh, God, was that terrible," she said.
Gibson's daughter, Kirstin Gibson, remarked that despite her mother's fatigue and sickness during chemo, she continued to work her retirement job as the director of the L.E. Black, Phillips and Holden Funeral Home.
"Her hard work and faith kept her going. She had to keep her mind going," Kirsten Gibson said.
It's tenacity that's kept Gibson going throughout her life.
In Gibson's youth, she pledged to "be someone," which quickly became her reality after her 1963 South High School graduation.
She enrolled in the Choffin School of Practical Nursing and earned her practical nursing license in 1964. Later, she attended Penn State University, obtaining a bachelor of science in nursing.
Looking back at her 43-year career, Gibson loved her position as a surgical nurse.
Since retiring in 2011, Gibson served as the National President of Retired Nurses for a year and has continued attending the annual Association of Operating Room Nurses (AORN) conventions.
Before her diagnosis, she had already paid to attend the annual AORN convention. One reason she did not want to tell anyone about the cancer diagnosis was that she feared everyone would oppose her going on the trip.
"I thought this might be the last time attending a convention. I wanted to go," Gibson said.
She was sharing a room at the convention with another nurse. One day, after a shower, she noticed blood coming from her breast and began to cry.
Her roommate asked what was the matter, and Gibson replied, "Nothing is wrong."
However, that ended up being the turning point. She knew her condition was worsening.
"I came back from that trip and knew I had to tell people," Gibson said.
She first told her sister. Gibson's family later met at her sister's house to learn about the diagnosis.
"It was like boohoo city the day they were told. The day of surgery, my family filled the waiting room," Gibson said.
She goes for yearly checkups and has been cancer-free since her treatment 10 years ago. She encourages newly diagnosed patients to tell their families and share the burden with them.
"Being a nurse, I should have known better. Don't try to go it alone."
Gibson enjoys cooking, baking and spending time with her family, which includes daughter Kirsten of Columbus, Ohio, and son Mark Aiken, of Columbus, Georgia. She has nine grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.