My name is Marcia Pavao, and on November 2, 2024, at just 39 years old, I was diagnosed with stage 3  aggressive breast cancer that was ER/PR positive and HER2 negative. The cancer had already spread to my lymph nodes.

I’m a wife and a proud mother to a loving, healthy 11-year-old son. I’m also a grieving mother to my daughter Olivia Rose, who was born with a congenital heart defect (CHD) and passed away in 2019 at just 18 months, 3 weeks old. In 2023, I experienced another loss, a miscarriage that nearly took my own life. Those experiences changed me. I made a promise to take care of my health, to be here longer for my family.

Over the next year and a half, I worked hard to lose more than 80 pounds and get healthy again. That decision saved my life, because it’s how I found my lump.

On October 24, 2024, while getting ready and showering for bed one night, I felt something I hadn’t noticed before, a lump in my right breast. I thought to myself, this is nothing, don’t  worry about it. Then, that same night my husband also felt that lump and within days, another lump appeared under my arm. I knew something was really wrong. I often think about how easily I could have missed it if I hadn’t lost the weight.

The next day, I called my family doctor. Within weeks, I had scans, blood work, and biopsies that confirmed the diagnosis. My treatment plan included three phases: chemotherapy, surgery, and radiation, followed by injections and hormone therapy for five years to reduce the risk of recurrence.

For over a year, I was dealing with this intense pain. After being diagnosed with breast cancer and undergoing scans, my surgeon discovered that I also had gallbladder issues. I was experiencing frequent attacks, and they confirmed my gallbladder needed to be removed before I started my first chemotherapy round.

That same month, just a week before my chemotherapy began—on the 15th—I was scheduled to have my gallbladder removal. Then, only days later being home recovering from surgery, I was rushed to the emergency room. I had a small obstruction that could have burst. It turned out that during the gallbladder surgery, when they operated through my belly button, they accidentally stitched my belly button to my intestinal tube. This caused a blockage that prevented me from having bowel movements—everything was backed up and could have burst internally.

I had to undergo an emergency surgery (#2) just one day after receiving my first round of the “Red Devil” chemotherapy. Two major surgeries in one week. It was brutal. I couldn’t even tell whether the pain I was feeling was from the surgeries or the chemo—it was all so overwhelming.

Phase 1: Chemotherapy

I started chemotherapy on January 24, 2025, receiving eight rounds over several months. Because my cancer was aggressive, so was my treatment. I received the drug nicknamed the “Red Devil” through a PICC line that stayed in for the duration of treatment.

The physical and emotional toll was heavy; nerve damage in my right hand left me with carpal tunnel and partial numbness in my fingers. Losing my hair so quickly after the first round was another hard blow. Still, I reminded myself that this was part of the fight. I tried to embrace my new reflection, knowing that behind it was a woman who was strong, brave, and determined to survive.

Phase 2: Surgery

Once chemotherapy was complete, I met with my surgical team. On June 2, 2025, I underwent a bilateral mastectomy, removal of both breasts, with immediate reconstruction, sentinel node biopsy, and removal of three lymph nodes (two tested positive for residual cancer cells).

Recovery was the hardest part for me. Seeing the staples, tubes, and scars was emotionally painful. As someone used to doing everything for my family, accepting help didn’t come naturally, but it made all the difference. I learned that letting others care for you is not weakness; it’s love.

Phase 3: Radiation

I began radiation on August 21, 2025, for 16 sessions in just over three weeks. Each treatment lasted about 15–20 minutes. It wasn’t easy, skin from my surgery didn’t heal properly, and radiation reopened some of those wounds. But by September 12, 2025, I completed my final session. Three weeks later, I’m still recovering from my open wound but my skin has begun to heal and I finally got to ring the bell, a moment filled with tears of relief and gratitude.

Then, on October 3, 2025, I received the words every cancer patient dreams of hearing: “You are cancer-free.” I am now a breast cancer survivor.

This journey has shown me the importance of knowing your own body and taking every change seriously. If I hadn’t found that lump, I don’t know where I’d be today. I share my story to remind others, especially younger women, that breast cancer can happen to anyone, and early detection truly saves lives.

To all the warriors, advocates, and survivors, thank you for creating a community of strength and hope. I am proud to stand among you as a “Pink Sister.”

Please, check your breasts, know your body, and never hesitate to get changes investigated.