I get emotional talking about my lung cancer. When I was first diagnosed and learned how serious it was, I thought it was a death sentence. And it all started with something so small: a cyst under my armpit.
My husband and I usually go to all of our routine doctor’s visits together. At one of my husband’s appointments, I happened to mention the cyst, since it had been bothering me. I was hoping the doctor could help, but he said it was too big to take care of in the office, and made me an appointment with a surgeon.
At the time, the cyst removal didn’t seem like a big deal, and I didn’t think much of it. I was 72 years old, and I didn’t feel sick in any way. As part of the routine procedure prep, my surgeon ordered a chest X-ray. We were all surprised when the imaging showed that I had a cancerous tumor in my right lung that needed to be surgically removed. Initially, my surgeon told me it was Stage I, small, and not serious, so I wasn’t too concerned.
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