This has been a long week.
I found a hard lump in my left reconstructed breast last night.
I called Dr. H first thing this morning and by 8:45 am, I had an appointment with her for an ultrasound as soon as I could slip away and get to her office.
The ultrasound at her office led to an immediate appointment at Methodist’s women’s center with a radiologist Dr. H said she trusted, who would be kind, but most of all, would tell me exactly what he saw, and if needed, would send me for other scans.
Scans. I freaking hate that word.
I’ve cried so much today. I wanted Dr. H to go, “Oh, that? That’s nothing!” when I saw her. Instead, she said, “Hummm…I’m not overly concerned, but I want another set of eyes on this.”
I cried so much.
At the women’s center, while I waited, I wiped away escaping tears.
I saw the radiologist for an ultrasound. He immediately found the area of concern, stared at it, and said, “Nothing worrisome. These are oil cysts and fat necrosis. The fat in this part of your flap died and is liquefying. It’ll eventually become a hard knot. I see nothing here that looks sinister. No more scans needed.”
I cried so hard.
The radiologist stood beside me, took my hand, and said, “You’ve had a rough year.”
Understatement of the year.
I just nodded.
He told me to take a deep breath and go somewhere to settle myself. He told me to have a merry Christmas. He told me he’d be praying for me.
I sat outside of the women’s center for nearly an hour. It was quiet. No one bothered me. I just sat there, in the sunshine, in the breeze.
This part of my life sucks. Cancer sucks. It never really leaves you, or if it does, I’m not there yet.
Dr. H called me after the radiologist sent her his report. She told me to sleep, to rest, tonight. But, here I am. Wide awake. Too late to take a sleep aid. Too keyed up to rest.
It’s been a long week.
It’s only Tuesday.