I called old friends who I hadn’t talked to in a while; just in case.
I hugged my kids harder than usual.
I stared at my self in the mirror, and tried to imagine how my chest would look, afterwards.
I scanned the internet for pictures of mastectomies and stalked on-line chat rooms reading about complications that could happen in surgery.
I laid out my clothes for the morning drive to the hospital and packed my bag with the special bra they had given me to wear after the surgery, a shirt that buttoned in the front, and my fleece slippers.
I prayed to my Dad to keep me safe.
I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight.
I still thought that maybe it wasn’t really happening to me and that someone had made a terrible mistake.
Three years ago tonight, my life changed forever.