Six years ago I went to a doctors appointment for a routine exam. My doctor told me to have a mammogram sometime between then and my 40th birthday.  I was 37 years old at the time.  Being as forgetful as I am sometimes, I thought I might as well go and get it done.  I didn't even call for the results because I left without any expectations.  A few days later they called me and told me to go get a biopsy done as soon as possible.  They called me with the results from the biopsy and told me that I had breast cancer. 

My first thought was that they got the tests mixed up because I had just told my husband Fred a few months earlier that I felt that I was in "the best shape of my life".  After the news slowly sunk in my first reaction was to have it removed as soon as possible because I had watched my father die of cancer and I knew it was nothing to mess with.