Does anyone remember that song by the Presidents of the United States of America? Lump. “She’s lump. She’s lump. She’s in my head. She’s lump. She’s lump. She’s lump. She might be dead.” I hadn’t heard it for years. It was playing on The Current when I was driving to the gym on May 20. I remember because two nights before I was rolling over in my sleep–in my sleep–when the back of my hand grazed my…er…lemon and it recognized a lump. No breast exam here, folks. I felt it in my sleep, registered it as bad news and drifted back into dreamland. I said something to Brent the next day. I knew it was bad. He didn’t.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t actually the first time I was concerned. For months, I’d felt something small and annoying rolling around beneath my underwire. I thought it was something that came and went like a cyst sometimes does; something not cancer. But by the end of April, I thought I’d better get it checked out and scheduled an appointment for May 19.

But before that, I had to go and hit my head on a laundry chute door which required staples in the emergency room. (Have I mentioned that I’m a big, fat baby? I hate needles. But staples?! I’m pretty sure that I’m a freaking hero for getting those staples.) Since I had to get the staples removed, I pushed my appointment back two days. This is a special detail to me because I took a lot of hair appointments that Tuesday; the day I was supposed to be at the doctor. I had two new friends come for haircuts. I got to do a really fun Amelie-esque bob. I did a lift and tone on a gorgeous blonde. I went and picked up Kathy who works at Target because she needed a haircut. It was 10pm. She sat and had a beer afterwards. It was a long and satisfying day. I was happy and tired and knew a day like this wasn’t going to happen again for a long time.

I woke up Wednesday and slipped on Brent’s big comfy orange sweatshirt over my head and whispered to myself, “This is the day you accept that you have cancer.” (I’m a closet drama queen.) And then I drove to the gym. And Lump came on. And I laughed and said “seriously?!” Then I called my sister to tell her I was going to the doctor the next day.