So this weekend was harder than I even imagined, my hair is coming out and I know it was coming but I still mentally still in denial, but coming out slowly is even more depressing so my hair stylist is going to cut my hair because this slow process is even more unbearable. I cry each time I think about it and trying not to brush my hair is adding to it the stress and sadness. I know it will come back but this feels like my old life is ending. Please tell me, i am not alone in feeling this way? I just want to cry.

I’m nearly diagnosed, and honestly, the whole story still feels unreal. On March 31st at 3 a.m., I had just gotten home from work when something told me to check my breast. I don’t know what compelled me, but I did, and I felt a lump. I tried not to overthink it, but I still set my alarm so I could call my doctor first thing in the morning. I called my OB/GYN first, but they couldn’t see me until April 7th, which wasn’t good enough for me, so I called my PCP instead. She got me in on April 1st, ordered a stat diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound, and I went that same day. The results showed I needed a biopsy. I called my boss because she was the one person I felt safe telling, let her know I couldn’t come in, then went to tell my parents. After that, I called the imaging center back and scheduled the biopsy for April 9th at 8:30 a.m., telling them I would drive anywhere in the area if something sooner opened up.

They told me I’d get the results after the weekend, which turned into the longest weekend of my life. I messaged my PCP on Monday because the radiologist said she would get the results first, but nothing had come in yet. On Tuesday, while I was at work, I finally got the message from my PCP: “malignant carcinoma.” Getting that news at work, in the middle of a normal day, was surreal.

My PCP said she would refer me to an oncologist, but when I asked for the number, they didn’t provide it. So I took matters into my own hands and called another cancer center in my area, getting an appointment for April 16th. By that day, I had already met with the surgeon and medical oncologist, and the next day I met with the radiation oncologist. After that appointment, I got a call from the oncologist my PCP had referred me to, and I told her—very honestly—that she was a day late and a dollar short because I already had a full medical team. By then, I had a long list of scans and bloodwork ordered, and I got everything done within two weeks.

My port placement was scheduled for May 1st, and the cancer center submitted the chemotherapy authorization to my insurance on April 24th. I was supposed to start 12 rounds of chemo on May 1st. But on April 30th at 1:30 p.m., my insurance still hadn’t approved the medications. I called them, trying not to lose my mind, and the cancer center called shortly after saying they might have to cancel my chemo appointment. I begged them not to cancel anything until the next morning. I prayed hard that night for the approval to come through, because if it didn’t, I would have had to start on May 15th due to my work schedule.

On May 1st, I went in to get my port placed, and my chemo appointment was scheduled for 10:30 a.m. At 9:30 a.m.—one hour before—I finally got the call that my chemotherapy had been approved. It felt like a miracle. Even my medical team couldn’t believe how quickly everything had moved, and the nurses were shocked that I managed to get through the entire process and into treatment within a month. And on top of all of this, I was helping my parents move into their new house and even ended up in the hospital myself because I couldn’t keep food down. It was a lot, all at once, but somehow I got through it.

So I was recently diagnosed with stage 2 TNBC, I thought my world was crashing down. I just heard something that gave me perspective.

Jesus just turned my worst chapter into the reason why I have a story.

I was diagnosed on April 21st. I’m scared, and everyone keeps telling me to ‘be positive.’ Well, I am positive — positive that I have cancer, and positive that it sucks. How am I supposed to be positive when I’m this scared and anxious?

I start chemo on Friday, and today they went over everything I might experience. I just wanted to cry. I know I’m going to lose my hair, and I know that might

sound vain, but it’s my reality. I keep thinking about all the side effects.

My family and friends say they’re with me, but I still feel so alone.