Jennifer’s heartbreakingly honest interview to educate women about this rare breast cancer with no lump or tumor went viral in a 2017 WFAA Original.
DALLAS — Jennifer Cordts, diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease called Inflammatory Breast Cancer, who lived far longer than doctors predicted and educated countless women about it, succumbed to the illness she fought valiantly and sometimes in public.
“She was able to see everyone she loved in her last few weeks and was very thankful for all who visited. After putting up a 9-year fight when the doctors gave us 3 years, Jennifer gave it her all and fought until her last breath, smiling until she couldn’t smile anymore and telling everyone that she loved us until she couldn’t tell us anymore,” her husband, Rob, posted to Facebook on Monday.
Cordts, 53, died just before sunrise at 5:20 a.m. on Jan. 27, surrounded by her two daughters and her husband, Rob.
In 2016, doctors originally gave Jennifer three to six months to live. She survived almost a decade.
Jennifer’s heartbreakingly honest interview about Inflammatory Breast Cancer went viral in a 2017 WFAA Original. The headline “No lump, no tumor, the breast cancer disguised as a skin rash” was picked up by media outlets around the world as most people had never heard of this cancer.
IBC, as it’s known, is very different from other breast cancers.
It does not grow with a lump or tumor. Instead, this cancer presents itself as a skin rash. The skin in the affected area often looks inflamed or irritated, similar to a sunburn. That’s why it often goes misdiagnosed.
Doctors initially dismissed the redness on one of Jennifer’s breasts, as well.
“I went and got a mammogram, and it came back normal. Everything looked fine,” Jennifer said in the 2017 story. “I was told, crazy enough, that my bra was too small.”
To her relief at the time, the mammogram showed no lump, no tumor, and her blood work was normal.
But months later, when the redness wouldn’t go away, Jennifer was adamant to find out what was wrong.
One night, as her husband and youngest daughter slept, Jennifer said she typed her symptoms into Google.
“IBC came up — Inflammatory Breast Cancer,” she said. “It was the first thing that popped up. And it was late at night. Everybody was asleep. And I was terrified. I just had a bad feeling.”
After 11 months of misdiagnosis, a biopsy then confirmed what a mammogram could not.
“It took my breath away,” she said at the time, recalling the diagnosis from the radiologist. “I remember him saying ‘inflammatory breast cancer.’ And all I could think about was what I Googled. Because what I Googled said everybody dies, that nobody survives. So, I knew my fate right then.”
It was stage four IBC.
But instead of recoiling after the news, Jennifer did the opposite. She decided to go public and warn other women what to look for.
I first met Jennifer and Rob Cordts years earlier while reporting another story about the conversion from analog electric meters to new ‘smart’ ones. Jennifer called me back and asked if I would be interested in publicizing this story, as well.
What I did not expect was the heartbreak and honesty she would share when the camera began recording.
“I wouldn’t be truthful to you or anybody else if I didn’t say I was sad. And maybe a little mad. But mostly sad,” Cordts began. “I’m not necessarily afraid to die, but I’m very afraid to say goodbye.”
She was insistent that women advocate for themselves and push for more medical tests if they think something is wrong with their body.
“I really want this to educate. I really want someone to say, ‘Oh my gosh, I have redness in my breast. I better push past the mammogram and ask for some more tests,’” Cordts told us in 2017.
Cordts’ candor and confidence in 2017 resonated with viewers.
Her story exploded online. It was picked up by news outlets across the country, as well as in Asia and Europe.
The TEGNA Foundation, sponsored by the corporate parent of WFAA, donated $15,000 for research after Jennifer shared her story.
Soon, women began contacting Jennifer to ask questions about their own symptoms, how she coped, what they should do and more. Jennifer eventually started a support group for women living with IBC.
In 2023, Jennifer again invited cameras in her home as she explained how she was living with cancer, rather than dying from it.
She also asked if we would produce a separate video of her interviewing her oncologist, Dr. Joyce O’Shaughnessy. Cordts wanted women to get their questions answered directly from a doctor on symptoms and treatments of this rare cancer. She also hoped general practitioners would see the conversation and learn what to look for with IBC. That one-on-one video lives online today and is available to any organization that will use it as a teaching tool.
“To say I’m proud of Jennifer is too small of a statement,” said her sister, Suzanne Pitone. “I’m inspired by Jennifer. I’m astounded by her strength, her love for herself and her daughters. Her love for strangers and willingness to be vulnerable and honest. Her will to make the most out of this journey, moving with grace and a level of love for others that is something we should all aspire to.”
On Saturday, Jan. 4, Jennifer texted me with the news that I had always dreaded hearing from her.
“Hospice will be here tomorrow as there is nothing more that can be done for me. I am home with my sweet girls and hubby and smiling,” she wrote.
More than three weeks later, on January 27, a mutual friend texted me the news of Jennifer’s passing.
“She wanted everyone to know that love is greater than cancer. She worked hard to instill that wherever she went or had influence. Her daughter, Tat Cordts, also educated on the importance of being unapologetically your own health advocate through a TED Talk as Jennifer’s cancer went misdiagnosed by doctors for a long period of time and she found out about inflammatory breast cancer through her own research,” wrote J. Ann Stasny on Facebook.
Jennifer Cordts was actively involved with the Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Foundation.
She is survived by her husband, Rob, her two daughters, Tat and Daisy, her parents James C. Lett and Ellen Lett, sisters Cheryl Khera and Suzanne Pitone and her brother, James Bryan Lett.
