By Annie Rueb

October 17, 2025

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Prove It: My Story of Breast Cancer at 36

Check for lumps.
Even when you’re traveling.
Even when you’re busy with work, life, and everything in between.
Even when you’re putting off annual exams and routine checks.
Even when you’re young.
Even if you have no family history of breast cancer.

And if you find one, demand proof that it’s okay if you’re told not to worry.

Finding the Lump

I was 36 when I found a lump in my breast during a quick self-exam in the shower. Honestly, it was probably only the fourth or fifth time I’d ever done one. But somehow, my hand went straight to it.

breast cancer

It was small—tiny, really—and I convinced myself it was nothing. Still, I decided to get it checked out.

Navigating Healthcare on the Road

Finding healthcare while on the road isn’t easy. Between insurance questions, scheduling delays, and figuring out who to see, the process felt daunting. The wait time for a primary care doctor or OB-GYN was long, so I went to urgent care instead.

After the exam, I was told:
“This doesn’t feel like anything to worry about, but I’ll order a mammogram anyway.”

A couple of weeks later, after a mammogram and ultrasound, I was told it looked like an inflamed lymph node—nothing to worry about at all. Relief flooded in. I texted my family:
“Yay, just a lymph node!”

I was told it might change a bit before disappearing on its own.

Trusting My Instincts

But as time passed, something didn’t sit right. We had moved back to our hometown, and I decided to reestablish care and have it checked again. The process took time—but that was okay, I reminded myself, because it was nothing to worry about.

When I finally saw my regular doctor, she said:
“This doesn’t feel like anything to worry about, but I’ll order a mammogram anyway if you want.”

It sounded familiar—and comforting. So when the mammogram appointment wasn’t available for a couple of months, I didn’t stress.

The Moment Everything Changed

Fast forward about 10 months after my first scan. During the second mammogram and ultrasound, I noticed the doctor whispering to the tech. If you’ve ever been in a medical room during that kind of moment, you know the feeling—that quiet, heavy shift in the air.

The doctor looked at me and said she was sorry I had been failed. She would order a biopsy immediately. When I asked how worried I should be, she looked me in the eyes and said she would clear her schedule to do the biopsy that day.

breast cancer

As a nurse, I knew what that meant. But as the patient, I still clung to hope. It doesn’t feel like anything to worry about, right?

I was 36. No family history of breast cancer. Healthy, active. Mindful about what I ate and what I used in my environment.

And then, two days later, my world changed.

Stage 3B, triple-negative breast cancer.

The Whirlwind of Treatment

The whirlwind began—tests, scans, needle pokes, biopsies, endless appointments. The treatment plan quickly took shape:

  • 6 months of chemotherapy
  • Surgery
  • Radiation
  • Immunotherapy

A full year of treatment.

From the very first appointment, my oncologist told me:
“No one is dying here.”

That became my mantra. I put my head down and did what had to be done.

breast cancer

I’m a mom. I need to see my kids grow up. I want to grow old with my husband. I want more time with my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews, my friends. There’s still so much traveling to do.

So we did it. And by “we,” I mean me and my incredible support team. We got through every appointment, every infusion, every surgery, every radiation session. We got through the hair loss, the weakness, the low immunity, the complications, the financial strain, and the emotional storms.

We did it.

Life After Cancer

breast cancer

I’m writing this one year after receiving my clear, cancer-free pathology results. I turn 39 this month. Now, my life is about taking it day by day, navigating the post-cancer world and the uncertainty of recurrence. But the goal remains the same—to grow old.

I am deeply grateful for my doctors and nurses, modern medicine, research, and every treatment that gave me this chance.

So in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, please—check for lumps. And if you’re told that everything is okay, don’t stop there.

Ask for proof.
“Prove it.”

Pass it on.

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