I let that urgent little prognosis settle in for a few minutes, swiping at angry tears that kept popping out. I didn't have a hanky or a Kleenex, so I was using some wadded-up paper napkin I found in the console. It smelled of old Kentucky Fried Chicken. Breast cancer is real. Breast cancer is everywhere.
Breast cancer is curable.
The surgery Things immediately began to look brighter, clearer, more colorful, more in focus. This is not a myth idly passed along. This is a true statement. Ask any survivor, of cancer or any other life-threatening experience. I was only 48 and my life was on the line.