No, they didn't make a mistake.

As soon as I get back from holiday I have a appointment at the hospital.

I go with mixed feelings. With my chearleaders, my mother and sister, of course.

From the moment that the word "cancer" was spoken, they follow me everywhere.

I try to make light of it but deep inside I'm really worried.

My name is called, the three of us go inside.

The results are alas not good. It's now 100% certain: I have breast cancer.

My mother and sister start to cry. I try to stay calm.

My parents' words: 'Stand tall and do what you want to do'.

I decide to stand tall and do what I want to do. I ask “What now? What's the next step?"

I'm ready to fight, to fight for my life once again.

And yet, somewhere in my head, I'm thinking that they've made a mistake.

This feeling of denial is so strong that I really believe it. Up to the day that the fist chemotherapy flows into my arm.