Sept. 5, 2018, I nervously waited for my biopsy results at work.  My doctor told me she would call me by noon.

Noon came and gone.

Now, my stomach was hurting  and my anxiety was at an all time high.

My friends were telling me to relax and that if something was wrong, my doctor would have called.

Just as my nerves began to settle, my phone rang — it was my doctor.

Before I even answered the call, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. I walked to a  secluded stairway. After what felt like a dramatic pause, I knew it was bad news and I instantly began to cry.

I just remember my friends rushing to get to me and everything went black after that. I remember crying and thinking I have cancer! Am I going to die?! I’m 28 years old.Why me?! Is this even real?!

Once I calmed down, I became angry as hell.

Prior to my biopsy, I went to my primary care physician (PCP) three times before a mammogram was ordered. I was told insurance wouldn’t cover it,  African American women tend to have fibrocystic breast, oh, and my favorite, it’s probably just hormones.

Well, indeed it was my hormones, because I was triple positive with lymph node involvement.

I discovered my lump during a routine self-breast exam. I’ve worked for a health insurance company for the last five years. Part of my job is educating women on the importance of  mammograms and for those who were afraid to have the screening done, I explained over the phone how to do a self-breast exam. So, as I’m teaching, I’m learning as well because I’m technically “too young” to have a mammogram. Thanks to my job, I have always been conscious of my body and have always done my own exams.

Having no family history and no genetic mutation, I wonder even more how this happened to me?

I must admit I did not kick into fight mode right away. Yes, I had friends and family who were there every step of the way who thought if they kept me uplifted 24/7, I would be okay, but they couldn’t keep me away from my own thoughts.

Adjusting to losing my hair was extremely hard for me. I struggled like crazy with that. But I don’t know which was worst, losing hair or deciding which route to take for surgery.

I decided on the big one — a bilateral mastectomy with diep flap reconstruction. I have never had any surgeries or procedures prior to this and I was sooo afraid, but I prayed to God and I heard him tell me, “You are going to be alright!”

Even after experiencing every complication you can think of after surgery, I now have this new found bravery. I said goodbye to the scarfs and hello to my 10 strands of hair — I was able to embrace what I was once afraid of.

Now I know my body is mine, but it doesn’t look the same. I have smaller breasts and scars. I felt bad for worrying about my image when in reality the most important thing is that I’m cancer free, right? I’ve learned I may not look the same, feel the same or even move the same but I’m here. I’m alive. I’m cancer free.

This is my “new normal.”

My diagnosis has changed my outlook on life. My diagnosis has helped me build an even stronger relationship with God — that relationship is what kept me going even when I wanted to give up. My diagnosis is part of my story. It is a chapter in my book of life that I am in no way finished writing, yet!

I feel reborn in a sense. Life can change in a matter of minutes. I learned to live my best life! I cherish every single second with my family and friends. Sometimes change is good….

Lastly, I want to share with anyone reading this no matter whether you’ve been diagnosed with cancer or not, advocate, advocate, advocate, for your own health and be your own voice.

I’ve always read that women of color are not always given the best healthcare. I never really noticed until I experienced it myself. I always think what if I had not been consistent with going to my doctor over and over again…my story could’ve been a lot different but God!