It was early summer of 2008. This particular day started out like any other day. Rush to get ready for work and take care of my family’s needs. My husband was the first to notice the change. He commented that my left breast looked a little “different.” We both dismissed it as nothing and figured we were just imagining it. Life returns to our normal hustle and bustle. However, the incident lingered in the back of my mind.
A few months later it is obvious by the odd shape that something IS different. Maybe I have just pulled some muscles or something. Besides, I have started having a sharp little pain in my arm and chest. Doesn’t that mean it’s probably a muscle? Hmmm.
I decide to wait till my regular appointment with my gynecologist to get it checked out. It’s only a month away. One month wouldn’t make a difference, right? I see him regularly, so it couldn’t be anything major. Thoughts like these run through my mind. I am trying to conquer my doubts with reason. Breast cancer doesn’t run in my family. Shoot, I don’t even know anyone personally who has breast cancer. I’m fine.