“You have an incredible intuition,” my therapist remarked, catching me off guard. As a mother of four, I often feel more like a chaotic whirlwind than someone with a well-structured life. Between laundry, meals, and the constant chatter of children’s shows, I rarely feel composed enough to tap into my instincts.
I smiled at her comment, unsure of how to respond. But in the days that followed, her words lingered in my mind. I began to wonder: How had I recognized the important signals my body was sending amidst the noise of daily life? How had I managed to listen to my inner self when chaos reigned?
The truth is, I couldn’t say. But I am profoundly grateful that I did.
In March of last year, my baby daughter, just a few months old, would often place her tiny hand on my upper breast. That area became increasingly sore, and no matter how often I moved her hand away, she always returned it. Soon, even my seatbelt felt uncomfortable, and my cross-body purse began to irritate me. I knew something was off.
After a visit to my gynecologist, an ultrasound and mammogram were recommended. I quickly scheduled the imaging for a few days later. When the nurse called me the next day with the results, her words were reassuring: “Everything is normal. They’d like you to return in six months for another ultrasound.”
I felt relieved. Having had benign lumps removed in the past, I thought this was just another routine check. But deep down, I sensed this situation was different.
Trusting my instincts, I called the nurse back and answered her standard questions about caffeine consumption and changes in the lump. I insisted on seeing a surgeon for further evaluation. After she provided a few referrals, I promptly set up an appointment with one of them.
The following weeks passed in a blur of medical appointments. I had an initial consultation, followed by a biopsy, and then a three-week wait for the results. As I sat in the exam room, scrolling through social media, I felt an undeniable sense of dread when the doctor entered. Moments later, she delivered the life-altering news: I had breast cancer.
She flooded me with information—drawings, charts, and brochures—none of which I fully absorbed in my shock. Somehow, I managed to drive to my kids’ babysitter’s place to pick them up, feeling utterly dazed.
Fifty-six days post-diagnosis, I underwent a bi-lateral mastectomy with direct-to-implant reconstruction. Although I had the option of radiation and a lumpectomy, I just didn’t feel right about those choices. Was I scared? Absolutely. But I knew in my heart that the mastectomy was the right path.
A few weeks after the surgery, pathology results confirmed the presence of previously undetected invasive breast cancer in the tissue that had been removed, validating my decision to proceed with the mastectomy.
Losing my breast was a profound challenge. While I am grateful for the implants that restore my appearance, they lack sensation and serve as a constant reminder of my battle with cancer.
Cancer is unforgiving; it doesn’t discriminate based on age, family size, or life circumstances. It arrives uninvited, and how we respond is entirely up to us. I am incredibly thankful that I took the time to listen to my body. Throughout my cancer journey, trusting my instincts has proven essential for my survival.
So, when that inner voice nudges you, urging you to pay attention, heed it. Yielding to that intuition could very well save your life.
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In summary, trusting your instincts can be life-saving. Embrace those inner nudges, as they may guide you through the most challenging moments.