I went in for a mammogram a couple of weeks ago; on the same day I had an MRI for my lower back. Turns out there is a spot in my right breast that needs follow-up. They compared it to my mamm from last April and the spot has become more pronounced.
My immediate response was it's out of my control so I'm not going to worry about it. As the day for the tests has approached, a small crack in that foundation has appeared. Turns out I feel a little scared. What if it is something? I know there's still nothing I can do about it, but it's the uncertainty that sucks.
I watched my sister-in-law die from breast cancer about a month ago. I was with her when her journey started three years ago, when she lost her breast. I watched her get healthy only to discover the doctors never did a follow-up MRI after the mastectomy to verify they got it all - the result of which was that it had spread everywhere. I was her support while she lived with me and I carted her around for three months during radiation, doctor appointments and hospital visits.
My family's health burdens are heart disease and diabetes. All of us girls have always more or less back-burnered the idea of breast cancer - right up to the point that they call and say to need to come back for more tests. Then it's a wake up call that breast cancer has non-discriminate taste.
I'll play with whatever card I'm dealt. I don't really have a choice. And although I've talked my whole adult life about buying a set of spectacular boobs, I like mine. They are spectacular just the way they are and I'd like to keep 'em.
As for the tube part of this story, I'd just like to thank my Dad for sharing his claustrophobia. 'Nuff said.