Mountains and Molehills, revisited

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Another day, another heaping helping of irony.

(If you're a man, especially if you're a man who knows me in person and doesn't want to hear about my boobs, stop now. Really, you'll thank me later. I promise. Come back tomorrow for the Great Salmonella Story. No really, I'm serious about that too.)


So last week I had my last check up with the breast boob doctor. I'm sorry, I can't use the word breast. It sounds way too grown up and you can call me a lot of things, but "way too grown up" is not one of them.

Anyways, the scar revision procedure from November was more successful than initially anticipated, but, look, they cut off a quarter of my boob (you're new here? Run, run away Read here or here for more info), there's always going to be some deformity there. I mean really, there's only so much to be done.

On this last appointment she went ahead and ultrasounded the area to make sure the scar tissue underneath was normal and I was sent on my merry way with an appointment in May for my regular every-6-months-for-the-rest-of-my-life appointment. Well, guess what? I get to go back sooner.

Because there is a new lump. A much MUCH bigger one. And I would completely brush it off if:
a) it was in the area where the previous surgery had been and could easily be chalked up to scar tissue
b) it was in the area that was ultrasounded last week
c) it wasn't in the same damn deformed boob

It's probably nothing, but the exact same thing could be said for the last lump, and while it wasn't the scariest something that could be in there, it was something, and it was pretty much the scariest thing besides the scariest something.

And so I called today, asked for my favorite nurse (that sentence there is such a sad commentary on my life. I have a favorite nurse at my boob surgeon's office. I'm pretty sure I need mental help.) and when she was busy, I left a message with the receptionist. I explained my history, explained the current situation and asked for an appointment. To which she said, "this week or next?" To which I said, "RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND As soon as is humanly possible" which translated to Thursday afternoon.

I'm willing to throw this 45 dollars down the not tax-deductible drain for peace of mind.

Because my mind? SO not at peace.

(And also, just for a laugh, guess what rotation Slappy is on at work right now? Breast surgery. I'm actually not kidding at all. God, on the other hand, is probably laughing his ass off.)

7 comments:

moosh in indy. said...

So you're saying God thinks boobs are funny too?
Suck.

Dysfunction Junction said...

Yeesh...fingers, toes and eyes crossed. Oh, it's Melissa & I guess my secret is out. I may or may not be working on a blog.

Lanny said...

Thank goodness he isn't on OB, right? ;)

Looking forward to a post saying it's nothing!

stacey said...

wow. will think some good thoughts for you.

The Floydster said...

I'm afraid to bring on anything bad but I'm wondering - how is your headaches? Gone? Still with you?

Lynn said...

Always here praying!
Psalms 18:2-6 The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid. The sorrows of hell compassed me about: the snares of death prevented me. In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.
Prayer Bears
My email address

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

Your boobs just need a break.

Hallie