When someone you know receives a cancer diagnosis it gets you thinking. What if it was me. What would I do? Where would I go? What would I want?
Then, after a few weeks, it occurs to you that it *could* happen to you, and so you start thinking about the last time you did your screenings or even had a physical.
Last mammogram? 2009. Shit.
Last visit to a gynecologist? 2012. Shit.
Well, you’ve been to urgent care a few times and they did sort of do some of those exams, but that was last year or longer ago. Shit.
Last time your boyfriend… oh, 4 years ago this month. Shit.
Last time you did a breast self exam? Uhhh. Shit.
So you think, well… there’s no family history, I’m reasonably healthy, and I haven’t had any issues other than the occasional sinus infection and some colds that turned into bronchitis, for the past few years, I should still be good to go. And then… well, you find out you’re not.