It was just supposed to be a topic reserved for hushed conversations about the women on my dad’s side of the family. Something that happened to them. The “it’ll never happen to me” kind of thing. But, as it turns out, cancer doesn’t care about family history — or boundaries. It doesn’t wait for an invitation, and it definitely doesn’t send an apology note.
So, there I was in 2003, 18 years old and convinced I had life all figured out. I graduated early, started college immediately, and juggled two jobs while saving money to move out of my dad’s house. You know, typical “I’m an adult now” stuff. I thought I had everything under control. Then one day, while rushing through a shower between shifts, I found a lump in my breast the size of a golf ball. It moved around like a grape, which was pretty unsettling, even for me.
In a moment of panic, I booked an appointment with a gynecologist. I didn’t even know what a gynecologist did, honestly — being raised by a dad meant that women’s health was about as familiar to me as quantum physics. Anyway, fast forward to an awkward medical visit. The doctor said it was “just a cyst.” Oh, good. I can totally relax now. Except I didn’t, and a few months later, I decided to get a second opinion because something about “just a cyst” didn’t sit right with me.
Spoiler: it wasn’t a cyst. It was a solid mass that required a lumpectomy
So, I had surgery before the end of the year, and they told me it was a fibroadenoma — a benign tumor that likes to hang out in women of menstruating ages. Not exactly something you can put on a resume, but at least it wasn’t cancer. I got in the habit of doing monthly self-exams after that because, apparently, I’m not a fan of surprises.
For the next 15 years, I kept up the routine. Check breasts, go to work, pay bills, repeat. It was just another box on my adulting checklist, somewhere between setting up the internet and remembering to feed my cat.. Life was fine. I had a good career, a husband, and we were even starting to think about kids. It was all very future-focused and normal, which is just asking for trouble, right? Because life loves a good plot twist.
In 2018, while I was pretending to be a functioning adult at age 33 when, I found another lump, this time on the left side. It felt different — harder, more like a smooth surface than a grape. But sure, I told myself, I’m just being paranoid. I’d literally just had a clean bill of health at a well-woman exam two days earlier. But then again, what do I know? I thought life was going according to plan, and clearly, it wasn’t. So, I went back to the doctor.
Cue the dimly lit ultrasound room, where they try to make you comfortable by dimming the lights, which is really just code for “brace yourself.” The radiologist mumbled something about a “large lymph node,” which definitely didn’t sound like good news.
A week later, the diagnosis came in: Stage IIB invasive ductal carcinoma.
Well, fantastic. Here we go again. I knew the story all too well. Knowing my family history, I was going all out – 16 rounds of chemotherapy, a double mastectomy, and 24 sessions of radiation. And no, it didn’t turn me into some kind of brave, inspirational cancer warrior with an endless supply of positivity. Mostly, it just turned me into a very tired person who used to have hair.
During the pandemic, I learned that women were missing their screenings and getting diagnosed with breast cancer at later stages. That’s when Feel For Your Life came to mind — not because I suddenly felt inspired to save the world, but because I was fed up. Women deserved better, even during the height of a pandemic. I wanted to give them a sense of control over their breast health in a time when we really didn’t know what was going to happen.
So, I taught myself how to create an app. Feel For Your Life launch in the fall of 2021 and showed women how to do self-exams, track their progress, and set monthly reminders. Then in 2021, I added BreastFriendAI, a feature that translates medical jargon into normal human language because, apparently, medical reports are written in some kind of code that’s impossible to understand unless you went to med school.
I never planned on being a statistic at 33 years old, but I’ve made it my life’s mission to ensure fewer women don’t have to be.
Jessica Baladad, six-year cancer survivor, is the creator of Feel For Your Life, a free mobile application that provides resources on how to perform self-breast exams and when to get screenings, while allowing users to track and monitor their changes and set reminders. An unexpected breast cancer diagnosis at age 33 empowered Jessica to channel her experience into a mission that is changing the way women advocate for their medical care. She helped write legislation in the State of Tennessee to promote risk-reducing measures against cancer and disease. Billed as the Feel For Your Life Act, it requires high school students to learn about self-breast exams, testicular exams, and skin exams. Additionally, Jessica has spoken out against insurance companies before members of Congress. Jessica has been featured on Good Morning America, Tank’s Good News, USA Today, The Dave Ramsey Show, UpWorthy, and several national and international media outlets.