"What if it was your wife?" I asked. It was a question I posed before I even knew the answer to the next question. My mother was dead and my sister was undergoing chemo for late-stage breast cancer at 46. I had a good idea what the future held for me.

I was still reeling from the news that came after my ninth mammogram of the day. That's how many it took for them to determine whether they even wanted to do a biopsy. A tragi-comedy of errors would follow. "You have it". "No, you don't." "Yes, it's cancer". "No, it's only pre-cancerous". It was my not very happy 37th birthday.

The same surgeon, who apparently missed class the day they taught bedside manner dismissed me cheerily with the 90% survival rate speech. I did the math. Survival really meant 5 years. My children were 2 and 5.

So when I asked the sympathetic oncologist what he thought about a preventative mastectomy, he said if it was his wife in my situation, it didn't seem like such a crazy idea. You see, this was long ago and far away in breast cancer years; my solution seemed radical and to some barbaric. When surveyed now though, most women who chose this route were glad they did; the loss of their breasts a welcome trade for peace of mind and the chance at a 90% lowering of risk.

At the time, the insurance company didn't want to pay for my pre-emptive and proactive approach. After sending them my best-ever example of persuasive writing, they relented and saw the tradeoff through my eyes.

But I'm the lucky one. When I see my relatives, friends and acquaintances who have had the full monty of surgery, chemo, radiation, reconstruction and terror, I feel a little guilty that I was given the chance to outfox cancer. I dodged the bullet because I got ahead of it in time.

Every month isBreast Cancer Awareness month for me.

So I have a hard time seeing the benefit of raising the mandatory mammogram age. You see and hear women all over who are here to live and breathe and be there for their children and husbands and brothers and sisters and all of manner of family and friends because of that life-saving mammogram. Even if it only confirms what she already knows.

As I write this the news promo in the background asks why the big deal about breast cancer and not other diseases. I'll have to watch since I don't know the logical and well-researched answer.

I just know that losing your mom and your sister sucks.