“I have lung cancer?” I asked my doctor, disbelief evident in my voice as I processed the news over the phone. “I am afraid so,” he confirmed.

After the call, my surroundings seemed frozen in time. I went straight to my husband Jimmy’s office, desperate for clarity. “It’s cancer,” I told him, still in shock. He held me tightly, offering comfort in his unique way, saying, “Helene, I am sorry to tell you, but you’re nothing special.” His approach reflected his data-driven mindset, intended not to dismiss, but to ground me in reality. I soon realized the underlying truth in his words.

Lung cancer is the second most common cancer type. According to the American Cancer Society, over 200,000 cases are diagnosed annually in the U.S. Most are only found after the cancer spreads, reducing survival chances. However, early detection can lead to successful treatment and cures.

Four weeks before the diagnosis, I walked briskly through New York’s Central Park on my way to an annual checkup. Despite being 63, I felt great; age only hindered my choice of low-rise jeans. The checkup, due to my age, included extra tests like a chest X-ray. My doctor ordered this every five years for patients over 50. As we reviewed the results together, a new white shadow on my right lung caught our attention. Though he remained calm, suggesting possible non-serious explanations, he advised a CT scan to be sure.

The CT scan results prompted further tests, including a PET scan and a biopsy, leading to that unforgettable call. Everyone remembers exactly where they were when they hear, “You have cancer.” The two weeks before surgery dragged painfully. We told few people, and I might have kept it from my children if not for their location-sharing app, which showed me at a hospital on my wedding anniversary.

The fear of the unknown was overwhelming, but my husband’s words helped: “You’re nothing special.” This gave me perspective, shifting my question from “Why me?” to “Why not me?” About 20% of women with lung cancer in the U.S. are nonsmokers. I was among those 22,000 women, not unique, just human.

The human body is wondrous yet fallible. Although mine had accomplished much, including giving birth to twins, it also made mistakes. Anyone can get lung cancer. Complete control over health is a myth.

As I prepared for a lobectomy to remove part of my lung, my surgeon checked on us. My husband jokingly asked about his caffeine intake, adding a touch of humor. When the doctor left, my husband’s repetition of his earlier statement amused the nurses. “Well, he’s not too funny, is he?” one remarked. “It’s a long story,” I replied, laughing for the first time in weeks.

Two weeks after surgery, my doctor delivered uplifting news—early detection prevented the spread, eliminating the need for additional treatment. With renewed hope, he sent me off with a smile, planning a follow-up in six months.

Eight months have passed, and life feels less ominous. My mantra, “You’re nothing special,” guides me through challenges. At work, rejection no longer deters me. Even a winter cough was less concerning by reminding myself it’s commonplace.

At my first six-month checkup, anxiety was high. Reflection on increasing lung cancer trends helped. Since 2019, cases have surged by 6%. However, early detection improves outcomes, making survivorship less extraordinary. This, I embrace.

Helene Rosenthal resides in Miami, writing on familial and interpersonal relationships. Her essays feature in The New York Times, The Guardian, Slate, and more.