It started on Jan 4. While getting dressed in the morning I found a lump. A big lump in my left breast. Surely that had not been there yesterday. I double checked, checked my finger tips for callouses because there was no way I had a lump. I triple checked. No doubt about it, I had a lump.
I called the doctor and got an appointment for Monday morning.
It was a long weekend of worrying and fondling my boob. Seriously, once you know there is something in there it is hard not to freak out a little. I showed up at my appointment early. The nurse was kind, told me that most of the time these lumps turn out to be nothing serious. Most of the time…..
The Nurse Practioner came in and took a brief history before she ‘met’ my lump. She said it was likely a cyst and I needed a mammogram.
So, I made an appointment for that. My boob was smooshed, squished, man handled and flopped on various platforms and trays.
When that fun was over I was asked to wait. Then I got to repeat the process on the other breast. Then back to the left again. Apparently the radiologist wanted to see more so off I went for an ultrasound. Have I mentioned that pride is over rated when you have a lump? I got to second base with half dozen strangers that day and not one of them bought me a drink.
Next up is a needle aspiration. The doctors are still convinced it is a cyst.
Another week goes by before the aspiration because everything needs approval from somebody, somewhere.
Aspiration day turns out to be biopsy day because it turns out my cyst is not a cyst after all. The biopsy was not that bad. The waiting for results was painful.
My results were ready on a Tuesday morning (of course it was a long holiday weekend!). I waited by the phone. Patiently. Then I called the doctor to remind her about my results. The receptionist confirmed that the results were on her desk but had not been reviewed yet. OK. Patience is a virtue and all that. A couple hours later I called again. Ditto. Finally at 5 minutes before the office was due to close, I called again. This time I was placed on hold. A doctor finally came on, suggested that I was overly anxious or some nonsense. Then he opened the envelope that would change my life. He started reading….biopsy results for blah blah blah on blah blah blah Grade 3 out of 3 Infiltrating Ductal Carcinoma. Then he kept saying he was sorry, very sorry. He is sorry? Really? So I asked him if he was sorry for making me wait all day to get the results or sorry that I have cancer? He said both.