The Hardest Thing to Say

......I have cancer.

Disbelief. Anger. Dying. Nausea. Helplessness. I can’t get enough air. All feelings you experience when the doctor tells you that they found cancer cells in your breast.

That was my life at 6 p.m. Monday June 2. Only four short days from my 28th birthday. In the few days since I got the news, I can’t even count how many times I have cried. Even though the cancer has been removed from my body, I am forever a different person. I don’t even know what to do to feel normal. I’m still paranoid that something destructive is living in my body. I guess I am just going to go back to work and wait. Wait for the lab results to tell me the “personality” of my cancer.

I already know that it didn’t hit my lymph nodes, which is great news. I am officially classified as Stage 1. Tomorrow I see the oncologist for the first time. He will set up my 7 weeks of radiation 5 times a week, and also let me know whether he thinks I will need chemo. Damn I’d miss this gorgeous hair.

To keep myself sane, I am just going to focus on the positive. I saved myself. I saved myself by doing self breast exams and noticing when something wasn't normal for me. Liz saved me by relentlessly encouraging me to get into the doctor even though I was afraid. And when my gynecologist assured me that it was nothing to be worried about, I didn’t give up. I trusted my body and I knew something was wrong. I sought the help of a breast cancer surgeon, the same surgeon who held my hand as I cried in the hospital bed. Even though I was surrounded by people, in that moment I felt so alone.

Today seems brighter though. I can’t wait to let go of this helpless feeling, start my treatment, and start to take control of my life again. Nothing like the feeling of death to make you want to live. I have so much I want to do with my life and each day that goes by now feels like a blessing.

Live every day with a sense of purpose. Don’t put it off. And never forget to feel your boobies. Even though you think it can’t happen to you, it can. I’ll never forget shaving my legs in the tub the minutes before I found the lump that changed my life.