Five years ago, I went through one of the scariest experiences of my life. I found a lump in one of my breasts.
I made an appointment to see my doctor, truly thinking she’d squelch my fears with the words, “It’s nothing.”
Instead, she said, “We better get that checked out,” and scheduled me for an ultrasound.
The results of the ultrasound pointed to the need for a biopsy. This was it. The outcome of that test could change the course of my life and the lives of my husband and children.
The night before the biopsy, I cried quietly in my husband’s arms, thinking for the first time how badly I wanted to see my children grow up.
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