I knew I would eventually have that moment or reason that would bring me back here to share with anyone who might still be reading. I have wanted to get back here and finish the story, but I certainly was not ready to add to the story. Not that I don’t worry about it everyday. Everywhere I go I hear about someone having their cancer come back, someone passing away from cancer, or a new diagnosis. I hear about a woman who could easily be me with two girls the same age but when she was diagnosed she was already very ill and she isn’t doing well. I’m reminded to be grateful. I try to stay focused on the positive. Let’s be honest, why wouldn’t I wonder if mine will come back or how I got to be so lucky to be healthy here and now?
Then I found a bump. And I told no one. At. All.