A ear with sound waves coming out

Can You Hear Me Now?

Every October we post all things breast cancer, but the reality is every nineteen seconds, somewhere in the world, someone is diagnosed, and approximately every twelve minutes someone dies of breast cancer in the US.1 Let that sink in. I have made it my mission to write about my journey as often as I have the energy and the mindset to do so. I want part of my legacy to be that I left no breast behind. (In a non-sexual kinda way).

Metastatic breast cancer journey

Recently, one of my associates began asking me a lot of questions about my journey and how I dealt with it from day-to-day. I gave her some very transparent answers, and she appeared to be taking notes.

This baffled me because previously when I told her that she needed to go and get checked, she ignored me and said that cancer didn’t run in her family and that she had nothing to worry about.

So when she finished questioning me, I asked her, “Why all of the concern now?” After she beat around the bush, she took a deep breath and yelled into the phone, “Max, I found a lump!” I asked her if she had gone to the doctor, and she said that she was afraid to go.

I encouraged her to go, and after a few weeks, she did. Thankfully for her, it was a benign cyst. She was on cloud nine. So, in my very sarcastic way, I asked her, “Can you hear me now?”

Be aware of breast changes

Whenever you find a lump, no matter how small, you must go and get it checked out. It might turn out to be nothing at all, or it might turn out to be cancer. Finding a lump isn’t something that you can play with: It could be a matter of life and death.

I've been patiently dealing with her and countless other women who often tell me, “I don’t want to go to a doctor and have them mashing on my breasts,” or “I don’t have enough breast for them to check,” or “Cancer doesn’t run in my family.” Why are we so afraid to find out what’s wrong with our bodies?

Is it that deep down inside we know that there might be something wrong, and as long as we pretend that it isn’t - we don’t have to find out if there really is something wrong?

Scars of metastatic breast cancer

Why is it that we care more about putting lace on our breasts than we care about what could be wrong with them? We don’t give a second thought about using our breasts for a pleasure tool; however, we will procrastinate day and night about getting them checked.

My breasts have given me the greatest pleasure and at the same time the greatest pain. They have been removed, but in their removal, they may still cost me my greatest asset, my life.

So when I tell women to go and get checked and they brush me off, I really want to just show them my scars where my breasts once were and yell, “Can you hear me now?!”

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