The Tale of the Lumpectomy

The Tale of the Lumpectomy
My left breast needed to have a lumpectomy. Again, my doctor felt confident that this would take care of the cancer, and I would need to take tamoxifen to prevent it returning. As much as I didn't want to undergo another procedure, this saga had to end.  The procedure was scheduled for the week before my son's third birthday. Having breast cancer felt incredibly strange to me. In the mirror, I looked fine. I felt fine despite a bout of sinus infections that had arrived around the same time. But nothing felt like I had a cancer growing inside me, and that made it difficult to see the bright side of life. At this point, I hadn't told many people about my diagnosis. My family knew, but few others. I decided it was time to be open, to help educate others that mammograms weren't just there to torture and make facilities rich. They had a purpose, and one had saved my life. I, especially, wanted my friends who also had disabilities to go get a mammogram. Many women with disabilities die because getting a mammogram is so troublesome. They needed to know that they weren't invincible. I felt overwhelmed by the tremendous amount of support I received. People were praying for me and thinking about me from all over the place. I received cards, flowers, and balloons. Around Valentine's Day, my uncle drove to my house on a very cold day just to give me roses from him and my aunt. I felt so touched. Most importantly, I heard from family and friends that they had scheduled their mammograms. One  was my sister. Hers needed a second look but, thankfully, she didn't have cancer. I plan to continue encouraging everyone to get mammograms. The earlier cancer is detected, the easier it is to eradicate cancer cells. Life should allow a pause As far as my daily life, ever
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