Mammorexic

So I had my first mammogram and it wasn't nearly the painful experience I had anticipated. While not exactly comfortable, it was pretty straightforward: left one on the tray, turn; right one on the tray and turn. I left with my dignity intact.

Two days later my Dr.'s office called. It seems there was a lump they weren't sure about, so they wanted me to go back for another mammogram and more x-rays.

A quick poll of co-workers and friends my age indicated that this is pretty common. Nothing to panic about here.

The following Monday I went in to do the drill again. I sat in my well worn hospital gown, reading Reader's digest, waiting for the okay to dress and go.

The Tech came back in and informed me that I needed to be taken to ultrasound.

Okay, so they want to make sure this lump is...what? Just a "lump?" After about a 30 minute session with the ultrasound tech I was finished.

I went back to work and before I could even get involved in a project my doc, herself, was on the phone. Docs never call with good news, right?

She informed me that the lump in question is far to suspicious to ignore and I was being referred to an Oncologist for a biopsy.

Oncologist.

Not a doc I like having on my short list of providers.

Two days later I met the Oncologist, who is an extremely kind woman. She told me she needed to do a a "hollow core needle biopsy."

Whoa.

I asked a few questions and then agreed to the procedure.

So, that is why today, I am nervously awaiting the results of a biopsy. My gut tells me it's much ado about nothing, but still.

I mean, two mammograms, an ultrasound, a personal phone call from my doc... all culminating in a needle in the boob.

Its hard not to worry.

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