I’m not really a worrier so why would I worry? I have friends that have or have had breast cancer. Way too many of them. But they have survived even if their health has been affected in other ways as a result of the treatment. It’s a scary disease. But when your mother dies way too young as a result of a teeny, tiny lump in her breast, you worry.
Mom’s cancer started with a small “spot”. It was so small that when they did the biopsy, the doctor told her they got almost all of it during the procedure. But the biopsy came back with bad news and they recommended a lumpectomy which was performed on June 1st of 2001. They said she wouldn’t need chemo but recommended radiation. Just to be sure. Mom politely declined. Five years later, she passed away. It was 5 years of a lot of pain, a lot of searching for answers, a lot of denial that cancer was causing it all and finally, acceptance. She taught us a lot of things in those 5 years.
I hate cancer . . . of any kind. It makes me really angry. So I worry. I worry for my daughter and my sisters. I worry for my friends. Males are not safe either. Look up those statistics. I recently heard of a married couple who are both suffering from breast cancer . . . both the husband and the wife.
So I remind everyone. Check yourself, have your doctor check you, get a mammogram. Regularly. So you don’t have to worry.