This summer, after seeing an adorable new niece and a friend about to have her first child, Ken and I got the baby bug. I'm 28 and we've been married for 7.5 years, so it's not as if anyone would have been shocked. Being overly responsibly, I made an appointment with my primary care physician to get all that womanly stuff checked out, then figured I'd go from there...eating a little better, exercising, using less meth (kidding on that last one).
While she was doing the exam, she found a lump in my right breast. Now, if you've read the blog's title, you probably have an idea where this is going, but humor me. Dr. said that at my age, it's almost certainly a cyst, but since it was right behind the nipple, that a surgeon should drain it before I get pregnant.
So I go to the surgeon, who says that it's not a cyst (and I get to see "it" under the ultrasound), but at my age it's almost certainly a fibroadenoma. I make an appointment to get it taken out, my only worry that it will take a few days to heal. Surgery goes fine, I'm healing up, then I get the call: cancer. All the baby-preparation mindwork goes out the window. Seriously? Cancer? I'm 28. That was Monday, August 17th.
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