In 2025, I discovered a lump purely by chance. I was sitting with my arms crossed when I felt it on the right side of my chest, near the nipple. At first, I thought it might be a cyst.
I went to my family doctor, who sent me for an ultrasound. The scan showed a small mass in my right breast. From there, I was referred for a mammogram—which I called “tit torture”—and it confirmed the suspicious mass. A biopsy followed.
Even then, I had convinced myself it would turn out to be nothing. But on July 9, 2025, the pathology report revealed that I had breast cancer. I remember feeling shocked. With no history of breast cancer anywhere in my close or distant family, the diagnosis seemed completely unbelievable.
Within a week, I met with a surgeon. The following week, I had a right-side mastectomy and lymph node removal.
Where I live, I was the first man treated for breast cancer at my local hospital. Hearing that made the experience feel even stranger.
The surgery went well. The pathology report was generally positive, showing only a scattering of cells in my lymph nodes. Two weeks later, I met with a medical oncologist and a radiation oncologist. They felt there would be no additional benefit from chemotherapy or radiation, and the consensus was that I should begin taking Tamoxifen daily.
Genetic testing showed no predisposition to breast cancer. I was left without a clear explanation for why this had happened.
I had always been active and healthy, so the diagnosis came as a real blow. I do not think I will ever fully regain the sense of security I once had, false as it may have been. I worry about recurrence. I find myself checking my chest for lumps too often, and I worry more than I used to when minor symptoms or fleeting pains appear.
Friends and family might say I seem the same as always, but I know the experience has changed me.
July 9, 2026, marks one year since my diagnosis. Aside from dealing with some side effects from Tamoxifen, my doctors say I am doing well. Still, as I said, this experience has definitely changed me.