Six months ago today, I had my core biopsy.  The procedure was painful and terrifying.  I remember shaking uncontrollably on the table while I stared at the ceiling and cried. After the biopsy, I was taken to a room to talk with a nurse counselor.  The nurse told me that the radiologist was very concerned and was almost certain I had breast cancer.  She made a point of telling me the radiologist had 16 years of experience and had never been wrong.  I knew I was fucked.  Of course, I knew I was fucked when they scheduled the biopsy after looking at my mammogram.   Honestly, I knew I was fucked when I saw the inverted nipple and felt the giant lump in my left breast, but nobody wanted to hear it, so I kept it to myself. 

I remember crying in her office when she told me what treatment would likely entail.  I sobbed hysterically when she told me I would need chemo and would lose all of my hair.  I remember the look on Rosa’s face when I walked back into the waiting room.  I remember taking Jackson out to trick-or-treat that night and being in a great deal of pain.  I remember thinking it might be the last time I got to do it. 

That day fucking sucked. It was one of the worst days of my life. 

I can’t believe it was six months ago.  It feels like yesterday.