The past 6 months of my life have been filled with mammograms, ultrasounds, breast exams, consultations with specialists, more hospital gowns than I’d care to wear and never-ending talk of breast lumps and cancer.

It’s been an emotionally draining time in my life, to say the least.

I’m a 37-year old wife and mother of four children ranging in age from toddler to teens.

I’m a writer.

I’m a photographer.

I’m a daughter, sister and friend.

I have hopes and dreams and great big ideas that I’d like to someday see into fruition.

I don’t have time for cancer.

Which is why, at the recommendation of my doctor, I opted for surgical removal of the tumor in my left breast two weeks ago.

I showed up for surgery all decked out – mascara, sparkly toenails, shiny happy flip flops and all.

I shook off those pre-surgery nerves by tweeting, texting, emailing and chatting with a few of you while waiting to be called back and lulled to sleep.

Surgery went well and the mass was removed.

I made laying in recovery look good.

But I was in a considerable amount of pain.

And, I’m not going to lie.

I wanted my mommy the entire time.

I wanted her to hold me close.

I wanted her to tell me that the pathology results would be no big deal – that the pesky little lump was benign.

But there’s only so much that a mother can do, even when her 37-year old baby needs her to work a miracle.

So I waited and waited for the results to come in.

I removed the bandage, examined my new scar and I cried.

I cried like a big baby.

In short, the wound is ugly. It’ll take some getting used to.

But there are bigger things in life to cry over than an imperfect breast.

So I wiped my tears and smiled instead…

I headed to my doctor’s office recently.

And wore yet another hospital gown.

He sat me down and explained that my breast would take a considerably long time to heal.

And then he told me that the tumor he removed is benign.

My tumor is benign.

My tumor is BENIGN.

MY TUMOR IS BENIGN!

But then he followed it up by saying that the cells in the tumor were suspicious, abnormal.

A ticking time bomb.

A ticking time bomb that was eradicated, sliced, diced, tested and obliterated for all eternity.

I couldn’t help but smile as I drove home.

I called my husband and my mother and shared the wonderful news.

And then I began to cry.

Somewhere along the back roads of Missouri, it finally hit me.

That pesky little lump I’d been carrying around for six months could’ve gone unnoticed.

The ticking time bomb could’ve exploded.

And my future would’ve looked a lot more different than it does now.

I have hopes and dreams and big ideas that I’m hell bent on seeing into fruition.

I have a family to love, live and make memories with.

There’s a world of experiences just waiting to be lived and I am damn well going to live them.

All because I performed a breast self-exam. 

Would you please do me a favor? Perform your monthly breast self-exams or schedule that mammogram you’ve been putting off once and for all. You owe it to yourself, and the people you love, to monitor your breast health.