In the few months prior to my November 2025 check-in mammogram and ultrasound scans, there were signs both within my body and externally in the world. Thankfully, I have been having regular mammograms and ultrasound scans on said breasts for years due to previous medical issues, deep implanted endometriosis throughout my body, and other chronic non-malignant breast conditions. My last scans were in May ’25, where nothing notable or worrisome was found in the area the cancer is now present.
In late summer, my offspring and I noticed that two of our seven (working towards really owning the “crazy cat lady” title) cats, who are usually not interested in cuddles, lap sits, or otherwise, had suddenly begun to flock me (and them, somewhat), sitting as closely to my chest as possible. Even while I slept. They would oddly rub their heads on my chest and rest their paws on my boobs. My other cats do this regularly, so I would think nothing of it with them. But these two? With these two, if you look at them wrong, they run and hide or anxiously lick their legs off. Something was clearly different and they are still doing these behaviors now. Looking back, I do believe my cats knew something was wrong.
Since my major endo surgery in Spring of ’23, my body has slowly and roughly adjusted to the hormone losses, thrusting me even deeper into the throws of menopause (been there since my hysterectomy and partial oophor way back in ’07). Nothing major to note until late ’24, when my boobs suddenly grew two and a half cup sizes randomly. At that time, they were full of cysts and things, too.
Around my birthday in October, I noted my left breast was suddenly much larger than my right (like circus act larger…), and overnight I had developed the tell-tale orange peel skin. My nipple was also changing oddly- especially when stimulated (by cold, by clothes, during self-exams). It was then I posted on FB that I had gone ahead and scheduled my scans (that I was going to put off because of the cost and lack of insurance coverage) for November. I also posted on how I skipped letting the docs know of my findings and changes prior to scheduling the mammogram, as it would’ve only slowed the process down. (I was right, btw.) Either way, I knew I just needed to get to those scan machines post haste.
November 17th were my scans. Because of my breast history and dennnnnse tissue, I always had mammos followed by ultrasounds. Unquestionably. So, I am used to waiting after the mammo, then going for the U/S. When they called me back in for more mammograms, and I saw the look on her face, I instantly knew my gut of guts had been correct. After literal ten more mammogram images, switching plates down to the smallest, most painful size in existence, she finally sent me to wait for the ultrasounds.
Somehow her face had sunk even more when she came for me for the ultrasounds. I had made the decisions to record the sessions from my purse because I wanted to see the images, and sometimes they get weird when I’ve asked to see them in the past. (I can’t tell you why- they are my boobs after all…) These scans took triple the time they usually do, and I noted they were scanning further into my arm pit. I could see on the monitor the area they focused on, and I remember thinking, “huh, that looks like cancer legs, and most of the patient breast cancer scans I’ve worked with. Fuck.” My suspicions were confirmed more when I asked to see the mammogram scans when she finished, and she agreed. She pulled them up and didn’t even need to point to where the area of “concern” was. It was clear. I self-diagnosed right then in that moment. After I was dressed, they called me in to a different room with a conference with the Cancer Center Breast team – which had not happened before. Their voices and faces were all grim. Their focus was me getting biopsied as soon as possible. I took the first date and time offered.