At just 35 years old, I received a breast cancer diagnosis that I never anticipated. Cancer is indiscriminate; it doesn’t consider age, gender, socioeconomic status, education, or ethnicity. At the time, my youngest child was still a baby, and I began to feel discomfort whenever I lifted her, with tenderness localized to my upper right breast. This discomfort intensified after removing my seatbelt or cross-body bag.
After a visit to my gynecologist, I learned there was a small, palpable mass. She recommended a mammogram and an ultrasound. I scheduled the tests promptly, and within 48 hours, I received my results. There was indeed a mass, but it appeared to be non-threatening. However, one radiologist later explained that detecting cancer in dense breast tissue is “like finding a snowflake in a snowstorm.”
I was sent to a breast surgeon who insisted on a biopsy. I felt confident; after all, I was relatively young, healthy, and had no family history of breast cancer. Previously, I had two benign breast masses that were surgically removed—nothing to worry about, or so I thought.
In hindsight, my overconfidence was misplaced. I trusted my body to keep me safe, but this time, it let me down. When I returned to the surgeon for my biopsy results, I walked in with an iced coffee, expecting good news. However, I left the office with a cancer diagnosis. As soon as the doctor uttered the word “cancer,” I entered a daze, fixating on terrifying terms like mastectomy, chemotherapy, and MRI.
For weeks, I couldn’t bring myself to say the word “cancer.” I referred to the mass as “the problem.” Even during appointments with my new breast surgeon, plastic surgeon, radiologist, and oncologist, I avoided the term, despite its undeniable presence in my life.
After undergoing an MRI and genetic testing, my breast surgeon presented me with two options: a lumpectomy, which would involve removing the mass and some surrounding tissue followed by six weeks of radiation, or a bilateral mastectomy, allowing me to consider reconstruction. Simultaneously, I received my genetic test results, which showed I was negative for BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes. This left me questioning why I developed cancer at all. I led a health-conscious lifestyle, using natural products and eating organic food.
The research I conducted was both overwhelming and enlightening. I found myself asking, “Why not me?” One in eight women—approximately 13%—will face breast cancer in their lifetime. This is not an uncommon illness. Furthermore, 5% of breast cancer patients are under 40. Shockingly, only 5-10% of women with breast cancer have genetic mutations.
Breast cancer survivors include well-known figures like Hoda Kotb, Sheryl Crow, and Angelina Jolie, who chose preventive measures after testing positive for cancer-related genes. This randomness made me question the fairness of cancer; I didn’t smoke, rarely drank, and maintained a healthy weight. I felt anger towards the situation—after putting so much effort into caring for my body, why was I the one chosen by cancer?
I kept my diagnosis private to avoid external opinions while contemplating a significant decision: Should I opt for a lumpectomy or a mastectomy? I didn’t want outside noise influencing my choice. I spent countless hours researching, praying, and weighing the pros and cons. I tried convincing myself to go with the less invasive lumpectomy, but the risk of recurrence loomed large.
One day, while watching my husband play with our four children in the backyard on a sunny afternoon, I felt trapped within my own body—one that was harboring cancer. The thought of dying and leaving my kids motherless was terrifying. That was the moment I decided to proceed with a mastectomy. I informed my doctor of my choice, and four weeks later, I underwent the surgery.
The removed tissue and lymph nodes were examined by pathologists, and fortunately, my lymph nodes were cancer-free, marking the surgery a success. However, I still faced more decisions regarding follow-up treatment, each filled with its own risks and uncertainties.
Two years have passed since my mastectomy, and while I am considered cancer-free, I continue to live with the effects of medical trauma, anxiety, and muscle pain. Each day presents its challenges, and life is different now. Nevertheless, I am profoundly grateful to be alive and healthy.
I urge every woman to perform monthly self-exams and prioritize yearly mammograms. Yes, they can be inconvenient and costly, but the price of ignoring your health is far greater. Remember, no excuse you offer is more important than your well-being. Your family needs you, and you are worth caring for.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
If you’re interested in topics related to family planning and home insemination, check out our post on at home insemination kits and learn more about intracervical insemination syringe kits from experts in the field. For additional information on pregnancy, visit Healthline’s pregnancy resource.
In summary, I share my experience to highlight the importance of early detection and treatment. No one is immune to breast cancer, and proactive self-care can lead to life-saving outcomes.
Keyphrase: breast cancer awareness
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