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How a private, serial denier survived breast cancer

I heard the “C” word, but little else. It was June 14, 2012. I stared at a box of tissues in the middle of the doctor’s office thinking, some people probably really need those. I will never need those. I had breast cancer. My doctor was talking. I couldn’t take it all in. I remember my doctor saying: “If you have to have breast cancer, this is the type to have.” That’s really all I needed to hear. It would mean surgery and then seven weeks of radiation, five days a week. I didn’t like the thought of radiation but was glad I hadn’t heard the words mastectomy or chemotherapy. I could do 35 radiation appointments. I had cancer. I...

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