I remember screaming at the top of my lungs on my way to get my first mammogram a few days later. The story of my life was outlined for me now — only problem was, it was a horror movie. They called me a “previvor,” and from a medical risk-management perspective, there was no difference between me and someone with actual early-stage cancer. I also remember, around the same time, reading a book that said that for a woman, struggling with infertility is as stressful as receiving a cancer…
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