As I neared the end of my chemotherapy treatment, I felt a wave of relief. Excited to enjoy the day with my family, I packed our swim gear and joined my kids and partner at the pool, eager to bask in the sun and have some fun. On a whim, I decided to record a video by the pool, showcasing my mastectomy scars, chemo port, and chest wall excision scars. The overwhelming response was unexpected.
Within just a week, my video garnered over two million views. The comments were filled with positivity—many shared their own experiences with breast cancer or those of loved ones, while others offered heartfelt support. I never anticipated that my story would resonate with so many, but I’m grateful it did. My aim is to raise awareness about breast cancer.
When you watch my video, you might see a woman exuding confidence. Friends and followers often tell me how brave and strong I am, expressing that they wouldn’t have the courage to share such personal moments online. While it does take strength to be so vulnerable, it also stems from a deep conviction. I refuse to keep my journeys with breast cancer to myself; there’s been so much pain and anxiety, and bottling it up is simply too overwhelming. When women share their experiences, they can raise awareness and potentially help others in profound ways. The beauty of social media lies in its accessibility—public accounts can reach people who might benefit from the shared stories.
My journey began in 2017 when I found a lump in my breast during a self-exam. I had previously had two benign lumps removed, so I assumed this one might be harmless as well. Nevertheless, I visited my doctor, who ordered an ultrasound and a mammogram (my first). While the ultrasound detected the lump, the radiologist deemed it non-suspicious and suggested a wait-and-see approach, scheduling a follow-up in six months.
Initially, I felt relieved. However, as days turned into weeks, an unsettling feeling nagged at me. Seeking a second opinion, I consulted a breast surgeon who performed another ultrasound and agreed to biopsy the lump. Afterward, my family and I went on vacation. Upon returning, I confidently entered the surgeon’s office with an iced coffee in hand, ready for the results. That’s when everything changed.
The surgeon walked in, iPad cradled in her hands, and delivered the words I will never forget: “I always hate to tell women this, but you have breast cancer.” I was shell shocked, only half-listening to the subsequent details filled with scary terms like chemotherapy, genetic testing, and mastectomy. I left the appointment with pamphlets adorned with flowers and images of elderly women.
In that moment, my life transformed. I walked into the office as one person and emerged as someone facing breast cancer—forced to make difficult medical decisions while juggling work and raising four children, one of whom was just an infant. At just thirty-five years old, cancer was nowhere on my radar.
The following months were tumultuous, filled with numerous medical tests, consultations, and the eventual decision to undergo a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction. I shared my journey openly, and I was reassured that my chances of recurrence were low. To cope with my medical trauma, I began attending therapy, wrote articles on breast cancer, and encouraged everyone I knew to perform monthly self-breast exams.
However, last year, I became unwell. Despite my healthy lifestyle—regular exercise and a balanced diet—I experienced an alarming array of symptoms: anxiety, joint pain, brain fog, fatigue, and food sensitivities, among others. Desperate for answers, I joined a Facebook group discussing breast implant issues and quickly discovered that I had breast implant illness.
Eager to regain my health, I contacted my plastic surgeon to schedule explant surgery. I wanted those silicone implants out of my body without delay. What I thought would be a straightforward process turned out to be complicated. While waiting for my implants to be removed, I discovered another lump in my chest wall. After a series of ultrasounds and a biopsy, I was diagnosed with breast cancer for the second time.
Since then, I’ve undergone two surgeries to remove the cancerous mass, had my implants taken out, and had a chemo port installed. I’ve completed twelve rounds of chemotherapy and immunotherapy, with thirty-three rounds of radiation on the horizon. The emotional, mental, and physical toll of battling breast cancer—twice—is immense.
This is why I shared my video. I urge others to take just a few minutes each month to perform self-breast exams. My diligence in checking myself has been crucial for early detection—twice now—especially since I’m still too young for routine mammograms. Had I ignored my body’s signals, the consequences could have been dire.
One in eight women will be diagnosed with invasive breast cancer in their lifetime, and it’s not their fault. Cancer is a formidable adversary. Among those diagnosed, 11% will be under the age of forty-five, like me. I share my story to promote awareness and reduce the stigma associated with being a cancer patient. I want to empower women my age to advocate for their health, particularly since most don’t qualify for annual mammograms yet.
I am grateful for the platform social media provides. While it can showcase lighthearted content, it’s also a space where I can reclaim my narrative and remind other women to check their breasts regularly.
For more insights on family planning and insemination, you can check out this informative blog post, which highlights the journey of many seeking to expand their families.
Summary
Emily Thompson, a two-time breast cancer survivor, shares her journey of diagnosis and treatment, emphasizing the importance of self-breast exams, especially for younger women who may not qualify for routine mammograms. She encourages open conversations about cancer to raise awareness and reduce stigma, advocating for women to take charge of their breast health.