He yelled at my doctor

And helped to save my life

As I mentioned in this article, about my cat Snoopy, she correctly diagnosed me with cancer before my doctors did. She was my “cat scan”.

Over 15 years ago, she and I were in our new home in Texas. I missed Colorado, and I am sure she did too, since she grew up there. But we comforted each other by cuddling together. She would lie with her head on my right breast while I read.

Then one day she stopped doing that. In fact, the few times her paw came in contact with my breast, she became gingerly. She avoided a part of my body she’d never avoided before.

A few weeks after this, my breast hurt. It swelled up and the skin became pitted, like the skin of a grapefruit. It flushed red. I was worried, and went to the doctor. He referred me to a specialist, who basically panicked.

The panic was palpable as I sat in the waiting room. He said he’d run some tests. I went home terrified. I couldn’t sleep that night.

Within 24 hours, I was called back into his office. My husband at the time went with me.

The doctor talked very rapidly.

I had inflammatory breast disease. I had only 6 months to live. I needed to immediately remove both of my breasts, have chemo and radiation, and I needed to have it done NOW NOW NOW.