Through The Ringer

So yesterday I got a call from the hospital where I had my mammogram last week. They wanted to get some more views of my right breast, and when could I come in. No explanation, really, and very casual. They happened to have an appointment available this morning at 8:30am, which I immediately jumped at. If there was something going on, I wanted to know sooner rather than later.

So on a day that I didn't have to work until 2pm, I dragged my groggy ass out of bed at 6:30am. I drove down to the John C. Lincoln Breast Care Hospital and had my right boob lifted, adjusted, prodded, and smooshed three more times. The first time I'd gone in it really wasn't so bad--sadly comical more than anything--you never want to see your boob smashed flat to popping status under a bit of plexiglas. This time, they were really going for a good view, and DAMN. If you've never had a mammogram, they basically try to flatten out your boob to take an xray of it. You feel a bit like a puppet as they move not only your breast, but your entire body--hips, shoulders, arms--to get the best "sitting" of the breast on the xray plate. Then there is another flat bit of plastic--clear with black D shapes on it, apparently to indicate where the breast is supposed to fit in--that moves in to crush you against the xray plate.

Anyway. After the second set of screens were taken the nice lady that took the shots (the mammogramologist? seems too unwieldy a title) informed me that the radiologist still wanted a better look and was requesting an ultrasound. However, there was not a room available (and it was iffy at that) until around 11am. She assured me that it wasn't really anything to worry about, and sent me home with a card and a number to call in an hour's time.

So, feeling a bit brutalised and a lot concerned--despite Sharon's assurances--I headed home for a bit. When I called back, I was told that they could work my ultrasound in at 11:30am, so back I went. Not knowing how long it would last, but knowing full well about doctor's schedules, I'd already called work and told them I might be late--or absent, depending on the outcome of my visits. Good thing too, because they were finally able to work me in a little after 1pm.

The ultrasound itself was pretty cool. She turned the monitor so I could see what was coming up, and explained how the process worked, and what she was looking for. All I saw was a lot of white stripes and grey and black blobs. But she seemed to be making sense of it somehow. She took a couple of snapshots and headed off to the radiologist once again to see what he could see. I cleaned up the goo they use for the ultrasound (it's sticky and slimy all at the same time.ugh.), and sat down to wait.

Sharon came in a bit later and told me, basically, that everything is fine. I have some calcification going on that they were concerned about, but after all that mauling and whatnot they have concluded that the calcifications are benign. Normal wear and tear, I'm told. Shouldn't have to worry about another mammogram until I hit 40 (but I can pretty much tell you right now that I'm going to request another one 3 years from now, if not sooner).

I made it to work around 3:30pm, and still have not removed my wrist band from the hospital. I guess it's sort of my Badge of Courage for the day. I feel pretty exhausted, mentally and physically. I'm sore. I'm happy. There were a couple hours during the day today that I was going through all the "what-ifs". Wondering what would happen, how I would tell people--especially my family, how it would affect my life... I have always wished I'd been less blessed in the curve department, and I was pretty terrified for a bit today that I'd get my wish of a reduction. Scary stuff.

But it's all good. I'm keeping the girls for now. I'll bitch and complain that I can't find shirts that fit properly. I'll hold 'em when I go downstairs, and I'll continue to put on two sports bras when I go for a run or a bike ride. And you know what?? I'll LIKE IT!