On Pins and Needles

So I had the spot compression last week followed by the ultrasound. Followed by a discussion with Dr. Arkansas that 80 percent of all that is seen on mammograms turns out to be nothing. Fact.

After the procedures. I treat myself with a trip to a Wednesday farmer’s market and flea market. It took me about an hour to get there but my heart wasn’t in it. Really strange since to me, shopping is sport. On my way there, Mars calls me. Dammit. He’s working and I don’t want to upset him by telling him about the biopsy. I try to keep the conversation light and I’m usually great at steering the conversation.

Yes. everything went well. No. it wasn’t painful. Oh, what’s that? Do I have to do anything from here? Yeah, I have to follow up in the next few weeks. For what? So, yeah, I have to go for a biopsy. I can’t unsay it and he can’t not know it. But you know Mars, 80 percent of what’s seen on these kind of tests turns out to be nothing. Fact. He’s unnerved and I’m freaked out. Time to shop.

The farmer’s market is a bust for me. I walk around aimlessly for about 30 minutes and it’s time for me to go. Not before I stop for some potato pancakes, of course. I sit in my Benz and eat one of the three pancakes. Time to head home and ponder and worry and then place my issue in its appropriate compartment. I’ll take it out in a few days when I get the call.

When I left the spot compression appointment, Dr. Arkansas said he would send the results to my primary care doctor and arrange for the next steps. So, I’m sitting in a training class at work when my phone rings, I can see it’s the doctor’s office. I step out of the room to take the call. Oh hey, it’s not the nurse, it’s the doctor. You had your spot compression. Did the radiologist speak with you about what he saw? And you know we’re recommending a biopsy? OK, I’ll have one of the girls call you back with an appointment. The doctor never calls, this is cause for concern.I begin to think about the possibilities of what may be happening. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

I step back into my training class and try to put my problem back in its compartment but it seems to be sitting there on my desk staring at me, poking me.  A little while later, the nurse from my primary care office calls me back. The appointment is set, two weeks and two days away. This shouldn’t be hard, right???

Over the next two weeks and two days, a few thing will happen. One, I will use Dr. Google to look up everything I can find about mammograms, spot compressions,  ultrasounds, and fine needle biopsies. Two, I will become obsessed and addicted to my on line health records.

More to come…

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