At the age of 35, I received a breast cancer diagnosis that felt utterly unexpected. I was convinced it could never happen to me; after all, cancer doesn’t discriminate based on age, gender, financial status, education, or ethnicity.
At the time, my youngest child was just a baby. I began noticing discomfort every time I lifted her; her little hand would rest on my upper right breast, and the tenderness intensified after I removed my seatbelt or cross-body purse. Concerned, I visited my gynecologist, who found a small, palpable mass and recommended a mammogram and ultrasound. I quickly arranged for the tests, receiving results within 48 hours.
The imaging confirmed a mass, but it seemed non-threatening—although one of the radiologists later remarked that detecting cancer in dense breast tissue via mammograms is akin to “finding a snowflake in a snowstorm.” I met with a breast surgeon who insisted on a biopsy. I felt relatively unconcerned; I was young, healthy, and had no family history of breast cancer. My past experiences with benign masses had led me to believe this situation would be similar.
In hindsight, my confidence was misplaced. I thought I understood my body, but this time, I was mistaken.
When I returned to the surgeon for my biopsy results, I casually strolled in with an iced coffee, certain I would leave with good news. Instead, I walked out with a cancer diagnosis. As soon as the doctor uttered the word “cancer,” my mind went blank. I only processed alarming terms like mastectomy, tumor, chemotherapy, and MRI.
For weeks, I couldn’t even say the word “cancer.” I referred to the mass as “the issue.” Even while attending appointments with various doctors, I avoided uttering the c-word, despite it being the reason for my visits.
After an MRI and genetic testing, my surgeon presented me with two options: a lumpectomy with radiation or a bilateral mastectomy followed by reconstruction. Around this time, I learned that I tested negative for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes. Why had I developed cancer without family history or genetic predisposition? I lead a clean lifestyle, using vinegar for cleaning and opting for organic food and natural beauty products.
I spent countless hours researching my condition, which was both overwhelming and informative, ultimately leading me to ponder, “Why not me?” One in eight women—approximately 13%—will face a breast cancer diagnosis in their lifetime. This disease is all too common, and 5% of those diagnosed are under 40. Moreover, only 5-10% of women with breast cancer have genetic mutations.
Notable survivors include Hoda Kotb, Sheryl Crow, and Christina Applegate. In 2013, Angelina Jolie made headlines for her preventative mastectomy after testing positive for the breast cancer genes, raising questions about who gets cancer and why. I struggled to reconcile my diagnosis with my healthy habits—I didn’t smoke and maintained a balanced weight. I felt anger and confusion: Why had I become a statistic?
I kept my diagnosis private while grappling with a significant decision. Would I choose lumpectomy with radiation, or would I opt for a mastectomy? I wanted to avoid the influence of others’ opinions, so I devoted time to researching and reflecting. I created a pros and cons list, repeatedly trying to convince myself to go with the less invasive option. However, the risk of recurrence loomed large.
One day, while watching my husband play in the yard with our four children, I felt trapped in my body as it harbored cancer. The fear of leaving my kids without their mother and my husband without his wife became unbearable. That’s when I made the decision to part with my breasts. I informed my doctor, and just four weeks later, I was in the operating room.
After surgery, pathologists examined my tissue and lymph nodes, and thankfully, they were clear of cancer. However, I still faced more decisions regarding follow-up treatment, each fraught with risks and uncertainties.
Now, two years later, I don’t regret my choices regarding surgery and follow-up. While I’m considered cancer-free, I live with the lasting effects of medical trauma, anxiety, and muscle pain. Each day remains a challenge, but I am immensely grateful to be alive.
I implore every woman to perform monthly self-exams and attend annual mammograms. Yes, they can be inconvenient, costly, and intimidating, but they are crucial. Take it from me—I never thought I’d face cancer, yet I did. Early detection and timely treatment were lifesaving. No excuse you provide is more significant than your health and your life. Your family needs you, and you are worth the effort.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
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In summary, early detection of breast cancer is vital. Regular self-exams and mammograms can save lives. Don’t underestimate the importance of your health—make it a priority.