I'm good.
I go. Every flipping year.
The Big Squish is, while not a friend, at least an acquaintance with whom I am on speaking terms.
One of those acquaintances while, you may not like them very much, you appreciate they could be useful even as they annoy the hell out of you.
I had the Big Squish on the 14th.
Got a call the following Monday: The doctor wants more views of Leftie.
Let me translate that for you (or, rather, add in the language that was diplomatically omitted by the radiological tech): We think we see something on your film and we want to make sure before we scare the shit out of you.
Thursday last, I got re-squished. Yeah, there's something there.
Even leaving aside the idea of contemplating my own mortality, the idea that there is something growing
in me that shouldn't be there? It's just creepy. Seriously creepy. It's like the MRI I had a couple of years ago that showed a 4mm calcification in my left frontal lobe. Who cares that it may have been there since birth? It's in my brain, damn it, and it doesn't belong there!
See? Creepy.
Today, I met with a surgeon. Friday, they'll stick a hollow needle into Leftie (aided by the Big Squisher - yes, adding insult to injury, I get to get squished yet again) and remove some of whatever's in there for analysis.
Then, next Friday, I meet with the surgeon again to go over the results.
Given my mom's situation, I hadn't called her until after today's meeting. I wish I'd called sooner. Her insight into the issue (given her own two bouts with breast cancer) would have been helpful to have had prior to the meeting. I hadn't thought of that and hadn't called because I didn't want to worry her unnecessarily. At any rate, the conversation added another level to the "It's In Me And It Shouldn't Be!" freakout. The initial results from the needle biopsy on her first round came back as cancer-free. That hospital, however, routinely sends all its samples out to Johns Hopkins for more detailed analysis. That second analysis showed cancer and, when the larger biopsy was done, that too showed cancer. She opted for full removal and the eventual results showed the entire breast was riddled with tiny spots of cancer.
I was pretty calm until I talked to her. Needless to say, I'll be calling tomorrow to make sure they send samples out for further analysis. (I'm trying not to think about potentially having Leftie hacked off. I'm kind of partial to the girls, actually, and that weirds me out nearly as much as the other.)
In the meantime? There's something growing in me that shouldn't be there and I'll just be over here in the corner standing on an imaginary chair screaming like a little girl.
