Ali Shapiro

Fresh out of surgery, I was antsy for the anesthesia to subside so I could go to school. I intentionally scheduled my biopsy for 6 a.m. so I’d be able to participate in my middle-school’s annual “Mini-Course Day.” It was Friday, May 22, 1992. In lieu of regular classes, there were fun ones like Family Feud and learning to tie-dye – I was psyched. The doctor had reassured me with probabilities: 75% chance the lump I found on the right side of my neck was nothing more