365 Project - Day TWENTY THREE

Today was a significant, nerve-wracking day.

It started out ok. Got the kids off to school today without a hitch. As usual we were running behind. Out of habit, Jack kissed me before he got out of the car and said, "Goodnight Mom, love you..." like we say every night. We three had a good laugh and Jack corrected himself before he went in.

Went home after I dropped off Mazie and got ready to start my day. I got some emails done, checked the bank account and went on with getting dressed.

Left the house and went to Joe's Outdoors, which is going out of business. They boast 20-40% off the entire store! I went in there hoping for some bargains. I was able to eke out a bargain and got a pair of shoes for $15 after the clerk couldn't find a barcode for them. Nothing else was really that great of a deal yet.

After that, I cruised to WalMart and saw a few school moms there that I had conversations with. Got some necessities and hustled my way to Virginia Mason for a follow-up mammogram. This appointment was spurned from the mammogram I had on Monday, which showed something in my breast that required follow-up.

They did a more specialized mammogram, targeting the area in question. There, on the screen, bigger than life was the mass in question. I could see it. I'm sure my dad could have recognized the area. It was a large, white area in the middle of all this grey area that was the size of a robin's egg. I started to get nervous as she repeated the test several times, from different angles, different apparatuses all accompanied by the same small talk about the weather and being a stay at home mom. The technician said to me, "I'm going to show these to the radiologist. Go ahead and grab a magazine and I'll be back in 5 to 10 minutes."

This was the longest 5 to 10 minutes I've endured in a while. I sat there in the room, gown open in the back, clutching my sweater and bra. My heartbeat pounding in my ears was the only thing that drown out the humming of the mammogram machine and computer. Out loud, I told myself, "Do not cry. Do not do it. You're fine. Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry..." Alas, I didn't cry. The technician came back in and told me that she'd like me to take my things with me over to another room for a ultrasound exam of the same area.

I got into the ultrasound room and the woman who runs this confusing machine got to work immediately. As I lay on my back with my left arm in the air, she started doing passes with the wand between the areas of 12 and 3 (if you can envision my breast as a clock). Just when I thought she wasn't finding the area (I was scrutinizing the screen as well, since I'm such an accomplished ultrasound reader), she whips out a small ruler and measures the distance from my nipple to the mass. She notes the measurement on the ultrasound and continues to fine-tune the image. She finished-up and tells me she's going to discuss the ultrasound with the radiologist. Would I like a magazine? Because she'll be back in 5 - 10 minutes. Just as I was shaking my head no, the radiologist came through the door to discuss the results with me.

Here's where the crying started.

She sat down in front of me while I still lay on the table. She explains that they have found an area they can't explain. Initially, they thought it might be a cyst, but after the ultrasound have decided it is not and could possibly be some kind of mixed tissues, a benign mass... Her voice started to fade out of my consciousness. When I snapped back into it, she explained a few more things. She said my breasts were not dense, but fatty, which made for a radiologists dream exam because anomolies show up quite well against the boring, grey fatty tissue. Dense breasts create for a nightmare exam because there is more tissue and other areas that show up as 'something'. She explained that in her experience, they are able to view tumors that turn out to be cancer right away. She didn't think that what I have in my breast is anything malignant, BUT (there's always a but) sometimes they are surprised by biopsy results. I feel like this is a loaded statement that they must learn in Avoidance 101. They are all so fabulous at not quite offering entire details of a situation.

Now she explains to me that I'm going to have a biopsy. She tells me that I will be numbed and they will take 8 to 10 samples of the questionable area using ultrasound to guide them. I will be sore and I'm not supposed to take any aspirin or ibuprofen products as they promote blood thinning and bleeding. Then, I'm to do nothing strenuous for 3 days (jackpot!). After that, I will have an appointment with my gynecologist and she will tell me the results.

My biopsy is scheduled for May 5th. Cinco de Mayo. That's 11 days away. How will I ever turn my brain off for 11 days? 14 if you include the 3 days I have to wait for results! There are so many things I can worry about between now and 14 days. I'm not good with my head in 'scenario mode'.

It's going to be manic. And, as Amy Winehouse sings...what kind of fuckery is this?