Boobs – An update

First of all, I want to thank those who sent their good wishes and positive thoughts my way.  These past months haven’t been easy.  Thank you.

When I finally got my sonomammogram results, I felt myself get anxious while opening the envelope.

“[…] there are no solid or liquid-filled cysts.  There is architectural distortion.”

Architectural what?

I quickly googled the term and got a little more frightened with every link I clicked.  Architectural distortion is of concern, according to the websites I found.  It is the third most popular sign of breast cancer.  I couldn’t help but cry in front of my computer.  The thought of developing cancer at my age tore me apart.  My mom thought I was overreacting and tried to calm me down.  I didn’t care if I hadn’t yet talked to my doctor about the results, the C-word scared me to death.

I tried setting an appointment with the same doctor as last time, but she was vacay-ing somewhere in the US.  I asked to set it with anyone available and all I got was: “The doctors are completely booked this week and will go on vacation this weekend.  They’ll be back on the 17th.”

Waiting until June 17th was not an option for me.  My only chance at getting an appointment was to harass the receptionist each day hoping for a cancellation.

Monday came, Monday went.  I called throughout the day and could sense the irritation in the receptionist’s tone.   My mom called me at 9:00 AM on Tuesday saying there was a slot at 10:00.  Someone had cancelled.  I got up, showered, didn’t have breakfast and ran to my car, which of course, wouldn’t start.  It took me several minutes of uncontrollable anger to get the damn thing to move.  I was already late.

I got to the hospital at 10:15 and spent about 5 minutes in the elevator thanks to people who get on it just to go one floor up.

I got there, paid for my “consultation,” handed over my results and waited.  That wait was the slowest half hour of my life.

“Melanie…”

Finally, the assistant called me and led me to one of the examination rooms.  Another 15 minutes passed and one of the oldest doctors came in.  I told him about my breasts and the possible causes, according to my original doctor.  He asked for the x-rays and took a long time to look at them.

“You’re ok.  You’re young, only 21 and in this case ‘architectural distortion’ means difference in density between breasts.  It’s normal.”

I questioned him several times explaining the intense pain I felt not so long ago and the lumps I discovered.  He said that if the pain has reduced and the lumps don’t feel as hard as they did weeks ago, it’s not anything malignant.  He suggested taking vitamin E if the pain came back (if I decided to start drinking coffee again—Yes, please.)

I thanked him many times and got out of the office with a smile on my face.  I had to believe him because he was old, had gray hair, which meant he was experienced.  (2 points for my logic– haha.) Nobody was waiting for the elevator, just me.  I got in it alone and took advantage of that fact by grabbing my boobies and thinking: “You babies are here to stay.”

Thanks to this scare, I learned the importance of checking for lumps in the shower and made a promise to myself: get my breasts professionally checked at least twice a year.  It also made me appreciate life and realize how little I’ve done to leave my mark.  I will not take life for granted anymore and won’t waste so much time in front of a TV.  I want to experience life and be someone.

The first thing I did when I got home wasn’t watch TV.  I brewed myself a cup of delicious coffee and looked out the window to appreciate the daylight I used to take for granted.

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