I got the news over the phone in my dear friend Rūt's living room. The voice on the other end of the phone explained to me my condition in less than two minutes, as if it was no big deal. The only words I could remember hearing the caller say were tumor, fibroid, and biopsy. I repeatedly asked them what does all of this mean, I didn’t understand any of it. I had never heard of a fibroid, the only place I thought a tumor grew was in your brain, and a biopsy? “Oh my God”, I thought, “can someone’s life really be destroyed, this fast, in less than two minutes?" I hung up the phone, with no real answers or reassurance that I would be OK. I slowly sank into the couch, numb, confused, upset, frustrated and angry. As Rūt’s girls ran around the living room, a dream of having children one, day slowly died. The realization of living with a disease I had no idea even existed began to grow inside of me. Rūt tired to cheer me up but nothing worked; I just wanted to be alone. I tried really hard to hold back the tears, but they were stronger than me. A future once reassured, now in chaos. I hated myself, especially my body for its betrayal (to be continued).