These could be the last pictures of me not having cancer, I thought.The call from my ob-gyn came later that day: I had breast cancer in my right breast, and it had spread to my right lymph node.
She gave me the name of a surgeon at UCLA, and encouraged me to leave NYC immediately and get back home to L.A.When we were at the airport, on our way home, I told my husband that our children are my legacy, and he had to take good care of them and teach them to remember me.
I thought I was dying that day.My husband was a rock. I never saw him break once—until he had to call his parents and say out loud “Eva has breast cancer.” It took him a long time to be able to say those words without crying.I knew then that I wanted to document my experience.
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