I realized something about myself recently. I have always considered myself an optimist with a twinge of realism shoved in here and there. I am definitely the type of person who likes to see the good in the world, in people and in the hand I’ve been dealt. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I go to bat for the underdog and work hard at reinstating peace where there is conflict. It is because of this undying quest to “find the happy” I’ve been very surprised at myself as of late.
Last week, I experienced something that shook me up a bit. I found something a little fishy in my left lady lump (that’s breast for those of you who don’t speak “Fergalicious”) and brought it up at my annual exam. My gyno wasn’t overly excited about it so decided to send me for a mammogram and ultrasound. Hey, better safe than sorry as far as I’m concerned. Poke me, prod me and hook me up with whatever tests might be necessary. I’m all for being informed.
I am thirty-three years old and actually had my first mammogram at the age of thirty due to a *slight* family history with breast cancer. I’m also well-endowed in that particular area (in the interest of full disclosure, I’m also well-endowed in all kinds of other areas…but I’m working on that) so I thought it might be important to have a baseline test just to be safe.
While not the most comfortable situation I’ve ever been placed in I really didn’t think the mammogram was that bad. After hearing numerous horror stories I was pretty sure someone was going to hook my nipples up to clamps and hang me up by them. Thankfully, it was slightly easier than that.
This time around was no exception. Despite one hitch in the process (entirely my fault given my tendency to channel Soupy Sales when I’m nervous and yuk it up with the mammographer) wherein she erroneously pressed the wrong button managing to flatten my already freakishly flat boob even more, everything went well.
Once my mammogram was analyzed by the on-staff radiologist, I was referred to another room for an ultrasound. I couldn’t help but notice that the ultrasound tech began the test in an area that was nowhere near the original point of concern. She mentioned that there was a “different area the radiologist would like some clarification on” and she would be spending a little bit of time there.
Wow.
I wasn’t really prepared for that. Thoughts immediately began assaulting my mind and I struggled to lay there calmly and collectively. I began my comedy schtick, eager to break the growing tension in the dark little room, but the tech was obviously trying to concentrate on her work (or, perhaps I’m not quite as witty as I thought but I prefer to think it was her work ethic) and didn’t succumb to my humor.
Which made it all worse.
Once the ultrasound was performed she told me to sit tight while she ran the pictures to the radiologist. “I’ll be right back and let you know what the next step is,” she said, as she exited.
Hmm. Anticipation is a tricky little emotion and most assuredly a chameleon of sorts. It comes in all different shapes, sizes and scenarios. There’s the stomach-fluttering form that shows up the morning of a much-needed vacation. There’s the heart-thumping form that presents itself the first time your child rides a bike. There’s the stomach-dropping form that shows up when you sense someone you love is about to suffer some disappointment. And then there’s the mind-numbing form that shows up when you realize that the safe little world you were living in has the potential to be utterly rocked.
It was this form of anticipation, as I sat in that little room, that made me realize I am much more susceptible to pessimism than I previously had thought. Rather than resting on my faith that everything would work itself out, I ran straight to, “What if?” I had practically already diagnosed myself when the ultrasound tech came back in to inform me that the “area of concern” was actually some dense tissue that looked a little different than its surroundings. She advised me to come back in for a six-month follow up to confirm that everything was just fineand it’s definitely not something “to lose sleep over.”
I mulled over that statement the entire drive home and determined, she was absolutely right. Admittedly, although I would have much rather been handed a clean bill of health, I will purpose to reinstate my optimistic self and believe that everything will be just as it should be.
Anticipation can be both the mostexhilarating feeling and the most dreadful feeling depending on the situation at hand. It’s how you choose to deal with the anticipation that ultimately defines you. I chooseto stay positive and continue to laugh.
Happy Tuesday,
Mindy
Scare the crap out of me why dont you…..I have very thick and dense breasticle tissue myself. It can sometimes trick the doc’s into a little scare. Please keep on top of it though. I would like very much for you to stay healthy. You have to pay extra for someone to put clamps on your nips and hang you from them…You can find that service in the back of certain kinds of magazines. Take good care of yourself Mindy.
Thanks Christina! (And thanks for the tips for finding the “special service”). =)
Mindy
*whew*
Have gone through similar tests for similar reasons. (Once, while trying to diagnose a lump as “fibrocystic,” I had to give up chocolate for two months….TWO MONTHS! ‘Cause when you’re fretting over a mystery lump is when you want to give up one of the things you love most in the world.) But, thankfully, all turned out to be fine. And chocolate is back firmly in my landscape.
Am very very glad that all was well. And if your brain didn’t go to “what if…” until you actually had a health care person saying, “Hmmm….” then your brain is in a much better place than many, many people’s.
So now go have some chocolate on my account.
Geez…talk about pouring salt on a wound. No chocolate?!? Thanks for the words of encouragement! =)
Mindy
Yikes. That must have been awful. I’m glad it turned out okay and I’m glad you’re on top of things. Hugs to you!
Thanks so much, Mindee! =)
Mindy
I also have large breasticles and a family history. And nearly every year have to go back for a 2nd mammogram just to “clarify”. And one year they called right before we left on vacation to say I had to have another immediately upon my return. I took those girls on vacay and had a great time, just in case they weren’t there next year! Turned out to be a cyst and went away.
I too, am usually optimistic, but sometimes thos “what ifs” creep up on you unexpected. As long as they don’t keep you from living, I think that’s okay. So glad everything’s okay.
♥Spot
You’re exactly right. It’s pretty impossible to not worry but it’s entirely possible to not let it consume you.
Thanks for the encouragement! =)
Mindy
Mindy~ Glad that everything worked out!! You know that you can call me anytime if you EVER just need to talk about anything!!! Love ya! Val
Right back at ya, girlfriend! =)
Mindy
Been doing the six month mammos myself and just got the clearance for a full year. The waiting is difficult…I finally found pece with it, but it wasn’t easy. Wishing you the best of good health and peace of mind.
I’m glad for you SuziCate! I’m hoping this will be my last six-month mammo, and back to the norm after it. =)
Mindy
Someone told me when I was younger that she was just “lumpy.” She always got little lumps like that…and after a while she’d just go in and get them examined like no big deal. I definitely HATE the waiting part. And it sucks when you’re nervous about something and trying to crack jokes and they don’t laugh with you. It’s bad enough to have to go through it, but couldn’t they just laugh at our jokes? I’m so glad things turned out as they did…and in six months I’m sure you’ll get a clean bill of health.
We’ve got the “lumpy” ladies in my family…strangely mine aren’t. My doctor told me how lucky I am to have such malleable breasts. Yep. That’s just what someone wants to hear…malleable breasts. Flattering. =)
Mindy
Oh goodness, that’s a rough one to stay positive through. I think you did VERY well. Something was wrong with that tech, too techy or something, or born without a laugh gene. He should have a button he pushes that laughs. HA HA HA. That would have helped. 🙂
Glad the girls are ok. Maybe it’s not a clean bill but they passed the test.
Yeah, that tech was ticking me off. And I’m pretty sure I was throwing out everything I had. =)
Mindy
I’m very glad that everything was good news for you! I happen to be the same way those what if’s can really drive you off a wall i you allow them to sink in and play with your mind…
Welcome to SITS
Much Luv,
Karen
Thanks Karen! And thank you for the warm welcome! =)
Mindy
Sometimes it’s easy to confuse pessimism with realisim. Sounds like you had a reason to be realistic about what to expect, but I’m certainly glad that it was a better result. Schwew! That’s enough to make you want to avoid docs, eh? Glad everything’s ok!
Yeah…going to the doc’s definitely not my favorite thing to do in the world. And there is a big difference between realism and pessimism…there’s also a fine line. =)
Mindy
My first reation was OH NO! Thankfully it is not as bad as I (or you) thought it was going ot be.
So sorry I’ve been absent lately, and that I missed reading this when it happened. I absolutely know how scary that is! Pretty much the exact same scenario happened to me a few months back. Except, my nervous humor made one tech laugh, and confused the other. LOL I’m glad that your worst fears weren’t confirmed! I know how awful those thought can be. *hugs*