Chapter Three. Then.

It's always something. - Gilda Radner


I found the lump in my left breast while I was taking a shower. I didn't know how long it had been there and thought it was some kind of cyst or huge pimple. It wasn't very big, and I decided to ignore it because that's what I do – I ignore things.

It seemed bigger and was a little tender a couple of months later, and I finally went in to have the doctor look at it.

She didn't seem too concerned because I was so young, but sent me for a mammogram anyway.

"Just in case," she said.

I was kind of annoyed. These things never turned out to be anything, and I had better things to do.

She sent me to the Breast Care Center. I was surprised. I never realized there were centers just for breasts. I heard terrible things about mammograms, but it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be, which was a good thing, because I had to have four of them. The radiologist kept asking for magnified views. After he looked at the last film, he decided he wanted a better look and sent me to the ultrasound room.

I was still annoyed. These things never turned out to be anything, and I had better things to do.

The technician was chatty and smiling while she was doing the ultrasound until she wasn't. At that moment, I knew something was wrong. I saw it in her eyes.

I stopped being annoyed and realized I didn't have anything better to do.

The radiologist reviewed the ultrasound films while I dressed. A nurse manager was waiting for me and led me to her office. I would forget her name after a few months, but I would always remember her compassion.

She sat down next to me and took my hand.

"Bella, you have breast cancer."

Once again, I learned your life can change in a moment. You don't have cancer one moment, and then you do in the next.

I just stared at her. I didn't know what to say. After a couple of minutes, I found my voice and told her I didn't believe her. She showed me the ultrasound and pointed out the tumor. I noticed it was no longer a 'lump'. It had been upgraded to something more important, more ominous - a tumor. It looked like a cumulus cloud with wispy edges.

"Couldn't this be something else," I asked her.

"No. This is what a breast cancer tumor looks like, Bella," she said. "Tumors that aren't malignant don't look like this. Their edges are smooth, not wispy, and they don't look like a cloud."

She said I should believe them because they knew.

The word 'malignant' was echoing in my head.

I still had to have a biopsy even though they knew. I guess they had to make their knowing official. I asked if there was a chance they would find out this wasn't breast cancer from the biopsy. Yes, she said, if it was something that looked exactly like a breast cancer tumor that no one had ever seen before.

She gave me a gentle hug and asked me to please believe them because they knew.

I had to see doctors to schedule surgery and radiation and maybe an oncologist for chemotherapy to poison the cancer out of me. That was a big maybe, though. Some good news, I thought. Maybe this wasn't my time to die.

She tried to reassure me.

"You found the tumor early, Bella. You are lucky, so lucky."

I didn't feel lucky.

I was 26 years old, and I had breast cancer.

How could anyone call me lucky?


Thank you for reading! xoxoxo