February 14, 2008, Valentines Day, was the date my surgeons scheduled my mastectomy.  The perfect day to have “my cancer” removed.  The day my husband now calls “our” special day.  I tell my story often, and proudly show off my beautiful scar and the tattoo of my new nipple and areola.  My decision to have a mastectomy was not a difficult one since I never forgot the day my grandmother, who discovered her breast cancer at the age of 56, pressed my little 9-year-old fingers against the lump that was growing inside her breast, which would later take her life.  Fast-forward thirty-three years later and at the age of 42, I was faced with the news that I had breast cancer.  I knew at that moment that I wanted my breast removed so that I could live the fabulous life that my grandmother prepared me for!