October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and the observance hits home for me.

I can't emphasize enough the need for everyone to get mammograms -- men and women.

I thought I had breast cancer several years ago, or at least some kind of cancer.

And the thought chilled me to the bone.

It started with a strange feeling on my left side. As I would roll over on my side in bed, it felt like there was something inside the left side of my chest. As the months ensued, I noticed this feeling more and more.

I would roll over and it felt like a golf ball was in there.

I finally went to a doctor in Ohio, where I was living at the time. I was scheduled for an ultrasound and then a mammogram.

(When I was recently reading comments from a spokeswoman from Fitzgibbon Hospital about how many women are very uncomfortable about getting a mammogram, I could relate.)

Obviously, when a man receives a mammogram, since the breast is much smaller, the pinching of the machinery is much more pronounced than if a woman receives a mammogram. Of course, not being a female, I can only speak of my experience.

It hurt. A lot.

The poor nurse also had to work to position the machine because at 6-foot-5 inches, I am a bit taller than the average woman.

To say the least, it was quite an experience. I'm not sure which procedure I dislike the most: mammogram or root canal. Neither is a walk in the park.

Following the tests, the results came back and my worst fears were realized. Yes, there was a mass in my chest.

One of the most excruciating bouts with pain that I have ever experienced was when they took a biopsy. Man, that needle hurt. How do those acupuncturists do it? And the kids with the piercings? Ouch.

(Granted, I've been told my tolerance to pain isn't extremely high, but pain is pain in my book. It all hurts, whether it's that needle that they jab in you for the blood tests or the IV that that give you in the hospital. Once, years before this latest medical episode, I was admitted to a hospital and given an IV. For some reason, the nurse kept putting the IV in the same arm in the same spot. I guess that they liked that vein of mine.)

As my nervousness mounted -- my dad died of cancer in 1969 and there have been others in the family who succumbed to the dreaded disease -- the day for the surgery approached. Dread, as one description of feelings, doesn't even begin to cover my emotions at the time.

My daughter was even present, sitting in the Ohio hospital room, trying to calm dad just minutes before he went under the knife.

Even if it was an outpatient procedure, I was worried sick over it.

Thankfully, all went well. The surgery was performed and the tumor was benign. I have the scar to prove it and I see it each morning when I look into the mirror and shave. As the years have ensued, the breast has returned somewhat to normalcy but the scar remains.

Remember the importance of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It could save your life, the life of a member of your family or a friend's life.

Get an exam.

Mason is the editor of The Marshall Democrat-News. Spectrum appears on Friday.