I set the dinner plate in front of my son, only to be met with his trademark look of discontent: “Mom! It’s touching!” He’s not a fan of food mingling on his plate. Every item deserves its own designated space, as if life’s culinary delights should be compartmentalized like a Bento box, ensuring the ketchup never so much as grazes the salad. But that’s not how life works; sometimes, the ketchup ends up on the salad. “Deal with it,” I reply, perhaps a bit too sharply. “You can’t always keep everything separate.” This is true not just for dinner, but for life itself.
In the past week, everything has felt like it collided: the messy, the uncomfortable, and the beautiful. Life’s ketchup made its way onto my salad. Our family gathered from near and far to celebrate the Jewish New Year. My daughter lost her first tooth. I turned 37. We finally gave our little one her Hebrew name just days before she hit the eight-month mark. Amid the joy, I found myself anxiously waiting for the phone to ring, enjoying the moment, but always with a nagging “What if?”
Two weeks ago, I had my first ever baseline mammogram. By most accounts, I’m not at risk for breast cancer: I’m 37, have no family history, and I don’t smoke. However, I do possess two very crucial things that put me at risk: breasts. The reality is that having breasts means there’s always some level of risk.
Doctors reassured me that the spot on my mammogram appeared “friendly,” but their confidence lacked scientific backing. They couldn’t locate it on the ultrasound either. The prevailing advice was simply to wait six months to see if anything changed, acknowledging that it might not be so benign. I couldn’t cope with six months of uncertainty. After just six days of waiting, I had eaten enough tater tots to sink a ship out of sheer stress. For various health reasons, I needed more information.
For me, more information meant scheduling a stereotactic biopsy. So, just before the Jewish New Year celebrations and my birthday, I found myself lying on a table with a hole cut out for my right breast. The entire procedure took around 90 minutes, leaving me feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. Then came more waiting.
This time spent waiting allowed me to reflect on how, despite juggling countless responsibilities, I had never taken the time to check my own breasts in my 37 years. The act of doing a quick self-exam, running my fingers in circular motions over each breast, would take no more than a minute. Yet, I always had an excuse: rushing through a shower, sending emails, preparing meals, running errands. Prioritizing my health had somehow fallen to the bottom of my to-do list.
As I pondered this, I parked in the preschool lot, watching adorable little ones clad in bright rain gear make their way inside. Ladybugs, dinosaurs, and butterflies all equipped for the rain, while the mothers around me—most resembling me—looked frazzled, wet, and unprepared for the weather. It struck me: when did we decide that our own needs came last? Why do we care for our children at the expense of our own well-being?
It’s time to change that narrative. Women often hear they should prioritize their health for others: for their children, partners, and family. But the truth is, women must prioritize their health simply because they matter. They deserve to take care of themselves—not because of someone else, but for their own dignity.
As I embark on this 37th year, I have a few belated birthday wishes:
- Treat yourself to a breast exam today. No need for perfection; just look for changes. Remember, mammograms typically start at 40, but many things can happen before then.
- Set reminders for yourself. There are handy apps like Keep a Breast and Your Man Reminder to help with that.
- If you’re 40 or older, ensure your mammogram is on the calendar. If you’re under 40, check with your doctor about a baseline mammogram.
- Consider donating to breast cancer research. I’m contributing here, but there are countless worthy causes.
- Finally, spread the word to anyone you know with breasts. Share this message because they deserve care and prioritization for themselves and their health.
After a nail-biting six days, I received the call from my doctor: just a lymph node, nothing to worry about. I’ll return in six months for a follow-up. I don’t feel like I dodged a bullet; rather, I feel awakened—someone opened my eyes and handed me an umbrella to stay dry. I’m filled with love, hope, and a little titanium clip now marking my breast where the doctors have been. In truth, we’re all marked in some way.
So, grab a boob; don’t be one. Take charge of your health today because you matter. For more information on home insemination and related topics, check out this excellent resource on IVF, and for a great at-home kit, visit this link.
Summary:
In this heartfelt piece, Amanda Lee reflects on the chaos and beauty of life, emphasizing the importance of prioritizing one’s health. After undergoing a mammogram and biopsy, she urges women to take charge of their well-being and not lose sight of their own needs while caring for others. The call to action includes performing self-exams, scheduling regular mammograms, and spreading awareness about breast health.