Sorry to those of you I said I would update yesterday. I was kind of drained after yesterday, so I went home and hit the hay J
Hubs and I went to the Doc’s yesterday and talk about a roller coaster ride, sans the 4092 million dollars to get in to the park.
Normal “get undressed and put this on and I will be in within a few minutes.” Laying there trying to keep this robe on, answering all of his questions. “Lay back and lets check this out.” In my head I’m thinking…rock and roll, time to get groped! Not a pleasant feeling, and am I the only one who feels incredibly embarrassed when the doctor is checking your Kindle-ayas (or *insert your name here*-ayas) and you can totally feel your nips coming to attention? I am NOT aroused. This is NOT pleasant. Can you PLEASE remain at NON attention? Please and thank you. But, of course they do not listen and you are absolutely mortified? Hmm…maybe that is just me. So, I am watching his face as he is feeling me up and it’s not a happy face. This guy needs to be schooled in the art of bullshit, because your face is NOT making me happy at the moment. In fact, it is freaking me the fuck out. He asks me if this hurts, and pushes down hard. Um yea…you just tried to invert my breast. OF COURSE IT HURTS!
He covers me back up and says the stupidest thing a doctor has ever said to me, “Well, you have a lot of breast tissue…ehrmm, ahh I mean you have very large breasts.” Excuse me Captain Obvious…are you blushing? Talk about creep out factor. Maybe my nips gave him the wrong impression while standing at attention, but this is NOT a blushing matter. I didn’t respond. He recovered, thankfully.
“I don’t like the feel of that lump, so we are going to send you down to the lab to get blood work and a mammogram.” Great. Pancake city here I come. I got dressed and went down stairs with the paper he printed out without looking at it. Before I handed it to the lab tech I glanced at the paper and saw inscribed before me the holy bible written in the original Hebrew dialect. There were so many tests that I needed to give blood for, and let me just say, I did not sign up for Pancake breakfast AND giving blood. NEEDLES AND SMOOSHY BOOBS!? I almost threw myself on the floor and threw a tantrum like a toddler right then and there. At least channel the Mutt in me and dig my heels into the dirt like a dog who REALLY just wants to pee on that tree…and that tree and ooh! That tree too! But, I went. Took my shirt off for the second time within a half an hour and let the technician go to town.
Excuse me while I vomit real quick as I remember the pain and frustration of the worst 10 minutes of my life. Due to my “ehrmm, ahh very large breasts” the woman behind the mammogram machine could not get ALL of it in the death vise. So, for 5 minutes a boob she repeatedly smashed and re-smashed me. And, to all of you out there who told me mammograms are not THAT bad. LIARS!!! I went in there expecting the worst and it was WORSE. It felt like someone took two rocks and repeatedly stoned my breasts between them. It is amazing that I did not wake up black and blue this morning. So while the tears streamed down my cheeks as she repeated gnashed my breasts she finally said, “ok, we are done. We can draw your blood now.” I came very near to sobbing. Did I mention WORST DAY EVER?!
I don’t cry often. But, once I start, I have a very hard time stopping. So I sat there holding my boobs to my chest with one arm and the other outstretched on the table as they took my blood. Not just a vial…NINE! NINE TUBES OF MY BLOOD! So, all that Hebrew was nine different tests.
Finally she tapes me up and says I am free to go. I walked out of there like a dejected soldier just ambushed without a friend left in the world.
Bottom line…Mammogram inconclusive. Scheduled for ultra sound and possible biopsy on the 29th. Another day of torture as I like to call it. SIGH
Glad that that is all over. Thanks for the prayers and well wishes. As dooce says, “I’m going to go crouch in the corner and pick at non-existent sores now.” :0)
And then there are the double digits... - Junior turned 10 this week. He's my first kid to hit the double digits. His feet are larger than mine. I constantly mix up his underwear and Chuck's. I ...