Those were the first words that went through my head when the radiologist first said these words to me. I'm 90% sure it is cancer. Whhaaattt? I am 52. Never had a major illness in my life unless you consider the trials and tribulations of having teenage children akin to a temporary illness that is cured when they grow up. If ever.
I am diligent about my annual "girl" exams. Both of them. Just because that's how I am. I get enormous satisfaction from marking things off my list, and here's my opportunity to mark TWO things off my list each February. My GYN exam and my mammogram. Every February.
A week before I was to leave for a business trip across the country, I went for my mammogram. I did not expect to hear another word about it until I got home and received the customary letter that all was well. Except it didn't happen like that.
Halfway through my business trip, the radiologist called asking me to come back immediately for a follow up. Generally not an alarmist, this sent major bells ringing in my head. In that instant, I knew there was a problem.
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