There are no words to describe the myriad of emotions experienced after finding a lump in your breast. You hold your breath, hope it was your imagination and when reality finally sinks in you do one thing. Panic. When your breathing resumes a cold shiver runs down your spine as you feel tears begin to swell in the corners of your eyes. You think about life; how you've spent it and who with and as the sobs unfurl you talk to God and begin to bargain for your life.
You go to doctors who palpitate your entire body looking for clues to the etiology of The Lump and answer carefully the seemingly endless array of questions. You begin to wonder what you ate, drank or did to create this and immediately vow to eradicate all of the above if only everything would be okay. They mark The Lump with a miniature road map so radiology knows where to look. Once at radiology you desperately look for answers in the eyes of the technician doing the mammography. You interpret every word she says as a sign that some thing's terribly wrong and when she says you need to stay you're certain. You go through more tests. You know you're being spoken to but the words, like air, seem to fall around around you; falling on deaf ears and broken hearts. You go through motions you only fully contemplate the enormity of once you're in the safe confines of your own home.
The radiologist comes in and begins to speak and even through you can hear you search his expression for any clues of what's to come. He tells you you have a NON - malignant tumor. You ask him to repeat himself and when he does you weep. You think about life, how you've spent it and who with and as the sobs unfurl you talk to God and thank him for the rest of your life.