I am two years old today. Sort of. Two years ago today, I learned for certain that I had cancer. I remember that conversation as clearly as if it happened yesterday. "It's very serious," said my doctor. "Things are going to move very quickly now. You've got a tough fight ahead of you."
He wasn't wrong about any of that. Triple-negative breast cancer is a force to be reckoned with, and we went after it with a vengeance. Triple-negative breast cancer is more aggressive than other types of breast cancer; there are fewer treatment options, and it is more likely to recur during the first five years after diagnosis. That's why I'm glad I didn't wait to get that suspicious lump checked out, and that's why I'm celebrating my second birthday today. Actually, that's why I celebrate just about every day.
When the American Cancer Society talks about candles on the birthday cake, I know what they mean. It's not about pink ribbons or "ta-tas" or any of the other fluff that goes along with breast cancer talk. It's about life and death.
Earlier this month I quietly celebrated my 53rd birthday and today I lightheartedly celebrate turning two years old. Here's to you, Life. Lucky, lucky me.
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