I’m home today, and I’m supposed to make a very important phone call. I’m reluctant though because it’s a scary one. Sunday morning while lying in bed, I found what feels to be some sort of lump. yup, gasp. definitely GASP. In.my.breast. *sigh*.
I’m surprised to say that I didn’t cry. I didn’t go hysterical, but because it felt weird, I felt my other breast. No such luck in finding some kind of corresponding weirdness there. I’m not regular about self exams, but the last time I did my female exams, the doctor said I was fine and that new studies showed that 3 year intervals were fine. 2 years ago. who knows how long that lump has been there? I feel like I should be crying, or at the very least more anxious than I am. I think about those who have gone through cancer or are going through cancer and I can’t seem to summon any fear. (Yet I’m not ready to tell anyone other than Justin who was there when I found it.)
Everything you ever read about breast cancer says that you should go get checked out asap. But being the nerd that I am, I googled. I googled and found a few references that if you go while menstrual, the doctor will tell you to come back in a few weeks to get re-tested because of hormone levels or something. That’s just perfect enough for my procrastination genes to kick in. But after I showered for work today I sat down. I didn’t want to do anything (Like any typical Monday). I realized, in that moment, that I was more likely to be heavily distracted today at work. As in spend more time being a hypochondriac than a productive co-worker. Not a good thing when you have the new gal starting today also.
Last night, Scrappy also had a spasm. The last time it happened, we’d had a long day at the doggy park with Aiden and Makana so I assumed then that he was just cramping from over-exercise. I assumed this time it was the same but it took longer for him to unspasm. I held him and rubbed where I thought it might help. No wimpering from my boy though. Eventually he came out of it and has been fine since. Worrysome that I was more worried about him than I was about my to-be-diagnosed condition? Let’s just hope it’s a clog.
I told Justin that I had planned to call the dr today. Or possibly just the nurses’ line, but I don’t know that I’m ready to hear anything. Maybe I’ll be lucky and it’s a clog in my plumbing and ducs inside there are just clogged. Maybe it will be worse, but just benign. Or maybe I’ll be one of those rare cases where Cancer has hit pre-age 40. I don’t know that I’m ready to know yet. I’m not ready to be a patient who needs the assistance of places like SCCA. Yet, I feel the need to document this and wonder why, when everything is going so well, there’s always something around the corner?