It starts with a lump

On sunday morning - January 9, 2011 we woke up to the sound of girls laughing downstairs. My daughter - who just celebrated her 9th birthday the day before - had a sleepover.

What had been a terrific birthday celebration the night before, ended in sheer terror at 9 am the next morning. As we were laying in bed, I accidently brushed my right breast and time stood still for me.

I froze as I felt it. It felt like a small hard marble. It was definitely a lump. The solid scary kind. I started crying in bed and turned to Brad who was still puzzled. I was out of my mind with fear. I kept crying and pointing to my lump. Brad felt it too, but was trying to be reassuring at this point. I could not be consoled. I kept saying 'oh my god, oh my god' over and over again.

Within 5 minutes I was dressed and out the door. I must have time travelled to the nearest care clinic because it seemed like one moment later I am lying on a cold hard table and the doctor is examining me. I keep telling myself that I am being paranoid and it's nothing, but the tears won't stop. The doctor stops, and hands me a tissue. He continues, with what seems an endless examination.

"Definitely a lump" he tells me at the end. "How old are you?" - I answered dutifully in between sobs. "Any history of breast cancer in your family?" I think back to 6 months ago when I asked another doctor to send me for a mammogram, but was turned down due to my young age, my lack of family history. That won't be happening this time. So I lie. "Yes."

He begins to fill out a requisite for a mammogram and ultrasound. He hands it over to me and wishes me luck.

I must have time travelled back home, because the next thing I remember is sobbing in Brad's arms again.