So, imagine my state of mind when my “really quick” mammogram turned into a 3 hour ordeal of filming, re-filming, ultrasound, a consultation with the radiologist and a consultation with my plastic surgeon.
I freaked out. My heart dropped when I saw the films and there was a mass – very distinctive – in the breast. I kept telling myself that it couldn’t have been my film, that there must be some mistake…God simply would not do this to me TWICE.
But…if you’ve ever had a mammogram or an irregular pap smear… you know the crazy heart palpitations that immediately start hammering in your chest as soon as they say… “There’s something of concern here”.
Sigh.
I’m freaked out and scared. I want to run home and crawl into the bed. But I can’t. The radiologist did not seem super-concerned BUT at this point; after all that I’ve been through even a little concern is a lot to me. Nothing showed up on the ultrasound. That is a good thing. She wants to review my film from my previous mammogram tomorrow (I have to bring it to the hospital for them) and check it against this morning’s film. I am hoping…and praying and wishing…that it’s nothing.
The plastic surgeon remarked that even if it’s something, its likely small enough that it can be taken care of without radiation to that breast. (Radiation? Wow… how did we get here already?)
It’s a lot to absorb today…my mind is practically shut down. I’ve snotted and cried on the phone to my mother, on my co-worker’s shoulder and on the phone with my best friend…and I’m drained.
The funny thing is that while I was getting the mammogram done, I was chastising myself about feeling negative about the process. The self-chatter was crazy but it was effective. I eventually shut up that little voice that kept screaming… “I hate this!” And I convinced myself that having the mammogram done and knowing if there was anything wrong was so much more valuable than any pain, discomfort that I may have felt during the exam.
Right now, I’m freaked out. Ready to cancel the surgery this week. Just ready to push back and try to regroup and get my head together. I still don’t know the results of the genetic test. I’m worried about this mass that showed up on my mammogram…and most of all I’m just downright scared about being under anesthesia for 10 hours.
Today…it is too much to bear. But I’m going to handle it because I have to. You know…thank God for mommas. My mom let me cry and boohoo over the phone and she didn’t make me feel bad for being so scared. I don’t want to go through this again. But if I have to, I am so grateful to have the people in my life who love and support me through the madness.
