Normally I spend my time planning my kids' next doctor visits, from well-child appointments to a tonsillectomy for Avery coming up in 2 weeks. I'm pretty good at keeping track of all that, and used to worrying about this, that and everything.
It's now my turn to worry...about myself.
On Thursday I went for my routine physical. Now I want to be upfront and let you know that it's been over 2 years since I have gone, and in that same time span I have lost the equivolent of a 2nd grader in terms of weight. At the breast exam part my doctor paused. Then came the question, "Have you always had this?" Uhh, apparently not, because I have no idea what you're talking about. But I felt it myself - big, BIG lump there.
Then begins the dance with medical imaging at the hospital. I finally get scheduled for Wed (today) in the morning. So I had 5 days to obsess and "pinch my boob" as Avery kept asking me why in the world I was doing that.
Heather came to watch my kids and to the hospital I went. While I was waiting in the Women's Imaging Center this guy walks in. This guy is my husband. He got off work to come be with me!!!! And then he got kicked out, because men can't be in the Women's Imaging Center...but it was really stinking sweet. Then came the mammogram. People, it does NOT hurt. All the horror stories, all the reasons I was nearly pooping myself, all for naught. It doesn't hurt. Does it feel like a tickle? Sheeeeeeeeeeetno, but come on, you knew it wouldn't be comfy. After that I went to the ultrasound, where James was allowed. Incidentally it was the same ultrasound room where I was when I was shocked to learn we were having twins! Good times.
The important doctor came in then and gave us the news. I have a very rare thing called a hamartoma. Apparently it's an encapsulated growth of junk - I dunno what's all in there but it's fat and tissue and more fat and more breast tissue. I've likely had it all my life and it just grew as my boobs grew. It grew lots though. He said it's the size of an ostrich egg. I looked that up. It's 7inx5in. Holy..... He made sure to tell us that it wasn't cancer. And he made sure to tell us that it was very rare. Multiple times. Which doesn't surprise us in the least. That's just how James and I roll!
On my way home my family doctor called. He was more honest with me, which I love. He said it CAN be cancer, but we won't be totally sure until I see a breast specialist, which is scheduled for a week from today. It will likely need to come out, which could make for a rather pancakey shaped boob on the left side. I mean get real, removing something the size of an ostrich egg from a breast would pretty much leave...nothing. I couldn't tell you how I feel about this, other than I've always called my boobs "rocks in socks" because they hang so low, so maybe I'll end up getting perkies with insurance paying for it all! Always a silver lining, friends.
I'm scared. I have to be honest. I don't want to have cancer. I don't want to be sick. I don't want to have surgery. But I'm trusting and praying and leaning on supportive family and friends. God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good. Amen!