I close my eyes and gather my thoughts. I stand on Eternity Beach in St. Lucia, arm-in-arm with my father, awaiting the music. The Caribbean waves crash, and the music begins, marking my entrance.
As my father walked me down the aisle, I saw Malachi at the altar. He looked handsome, and all I could think was, this is it. We reached this moment, the start of our new life together. I felt like the luckiest person alive. Malachi and I married on June 5, 2026, a day full of joy.
Yet, a troubling sensation lingered. I tried to ignore the sharp shocks occurring in my left breast. After the ceremony, we danced under the moonlight on the beach, witnessing our families unite.
My father and I danced to “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac, a song I cherished with my mom. The wedding was on the three-year anniversary of her passing from colorectal cancer. My dad said I reminded him of her, and I felt her presence.
I was excited for the future, thinking I knew what to expect. But things took a different turn.
I Felt This Moveable But Solid Mass in My Left Breast
Let’s rewind to March. I was trying a new bra when I discovered a moveable but solid mass in my left breast. It was grape-sized and felt like a rubber ball from a vending machine. It was rock hard, not squishy like a cyst. My thoughts went to cancer. Online searches told me breast tumors usually feel immovable and irregular.
I knew I had to investigate. On March 27, I saw my doctor, who felt the lump and said it was likely nothing. Still worried, I insisted on a breast ultrasound, which I had that day at the hospital.
With my mother’s late discovery of cancer in mind, I needed answers quickly. The results took three weeks. They reported a 1.5-centimeter mass, scored at a BI-RADS three, indicating it’s probably benign. I was advised to return in six months if I noticed changes and was referred to a local surgical center.
The referral took a month, perhaps due to the low risk score. I explained to the nurse that the shocks in my breast continued and the tumor seemed to be growing. But again, I was advised to wait six months. I pressed for a biopsy, and they directed me to a center three hours away in Lubbock, Texas.
The appointment was delayed, adding to my frustration. I convinced myself it was a sign that nothing was wrong. After all, I was 25, with no family history of breast cancer, and the symptoms seemed benign. But the wedding gave me a needed distraction.
Two weeks after the wedding, the biopsy happened. My husband and I didn’t expect alarming news. We just wanted to know about the mass and its rapid growth. The electric shocks were now frequent. During the ultrasound-guided biopsy, I learned that the mass had grown to 2.8 cm in three months. A few days later, on June 24, I got a call.
“Jaden, come in within the hour,” the doctor said. I thought, perhaps the mass needed quick removal due to its growth. Nothing more serious.
I was mistaken. Just weeks after the best day of my life came the worst. On June 24, I was diagnosed with triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma, a highly aggressive cancer.
I was speechless. I left the clinic without a word, grieving for my future.
Ignoring online advice added stress. Everything suggested my diagnosis was grave. I recalled my mother’s painful cancer journey and her passing, a path I never wanted but had to face.
At 25, dying seemed unfathomable. The diagnosis alone was frightening, but waiting to start treatment was another hurdle. I was prescribed the “Red Devil” chemotherapy, aptly named for its intensity.
This treatment has been extremely difficult. Symptoms include severe nausea, taste loss, brain fog, shortness of breath, anemia, and body aches, peaking a week after treatment.
After my fourth chemotherapy round, I anticipate surgery in January next year: a double mastectomy. Following recovery, I will begin six to twelve months of immunotherapy.
Despite challenges, I am grateful for this treatment. One year of intense therapy is worth pursuing life-saving measures.
I Never Appreciated the Gift of Living
Starting married life this way was unimaginable. I am grateful for Malachi, my husband and supporter. He vowed to support me in health and sickness, and he truly has. Malachi attends every appointment, stands by me during treatments, and provides care.
Over the past months, advocacy became my key lesson. Understanding your body allows you to trust your instincts. Pushing for your health concerns is vital, even if it feels difficult.
This journey changed my view on life. I now value life more, waking up eager for each new day. Although I fear what lies ahead, I am thankful to envision a future.
Jaden Slaughter, 26, lives in Carlsbad, New Mexico, with her husband, Malachi Calderon. She chronicles her journey on social media (@mothur on TikTok).