I scheduled my biopsy for a Friday. They told me I’d be sore afterward and I figured a three day weekend would ease the pain. I’d be a liar if I told anyone I wasn’t scared. I was anxious, nervous, scared, and just about to come undone. But I did what I did best, put my problem in it’s appropriate compartment, not to come out until the time was right….like when an half of a bottle of wine was involved. Surprisingly enough, Mars was handling the situation remarkably well.

Don’t get me wrong, Mars is a great guy, a great husband, and I love him with all my heard. However, he doesn’t exactly handle stress gracefully.  Even less so when things aren’t going as he feels they should or when he doesn’t understand something. That’s a story for another day, but when I had a meltdown after a bottle of wine the day I found I had to have the biopsy, he looked at me the next morning and said ” You had too much wine last night, but everything’s going to be alright.”

Another trip to Women’s Imaging, when do I start getting frequent flyer miles??? Maybe I should ask Colleen. Today’s not the day, though. I’m thankful that no one needs to come near me with a blood pressure cuff, I’m pretty sure I’d be spending some time in the ER if they did. On a typical day, most people would look at me and not be able to tell what I was feeling or thinking, today isn’t one of those days. I’m really scared.

When the ultrasound technician, Lori, calls me for my appointment, I go through the the drill. Take off everything from the waist up, put on a robe, lock up your belongings in a locker, and don’t forget to take the key. Not my first rodeo, I’m changed and ready to go. She takes me into the ultrasound procedure room and verifies my information. I can see that she already has my pictures from the last ultrasound on her computer screen. I assume the position on the table, with left arm behind my head and sort of laying on my right side. She makes a few passes over me with the wand and makes a few marks on the machine. She steps out of the room to get the radiologist and he comes right in and introduces himself. Dr. Bronx, I call him. He seems pleasant enough. He tells me he really wants to take a real time look at the ultrasound to make sure he sees what everyone else saw to make sure I even need the biopsy. Wouldn’t if be fantastic if this was all a mistake. Yeah, it’s not and he sees what everyone else has. The biopsy is going to happen.

Dr. Bronx explains how this is going to go down. First, he will give me a shot to numb the pain. Then while Lori is holding the ultrasound wand in place, he’s going to take five samples with needles. He shows me the instrument that he’s going to use. It reminds me of the kind of device that they use at the kiosk in the mall to pierce ears. He warns me of the sound it’s going to make and what I should feel. “Click, click, pop.” he says. And I should feel a little pressure. Try not to move. Try not to jump. Easy enough. He also tells me that once he is done with the biopsy, he’s going to insert a titanium marker so that when I have mammograms in the future, it will be present. He draws a picture of it on his paperwork. It’s barely the size of a grain of rice.

And here comes the needle to numb the pain. I convince myself it’s no big deal. It stings but it’s over before I know it. Oh, another shot, you say. Ok. Here comes the second shot to numb the pain, this time it goes in a lot deeper. It’s quick and I can already tell that I won’t be feeling anything. Back on my right side with my left arm behind my head, he starts with the needles to take the samples. There it is, click, click, pop. With the pop, I feel some pressure and say “Ouch”. It didn’t really hurt, it just felt like a poke and I wasn’t expecting it. Dr. Bronx stops. “Ouch”? I say no, not ouch, I just wasn’t expecting the pressure at the end. He does four more rather quickly, then sets the marker.

We talk for a few more minutes and during the conversation he says the word lesion and I’m fixated. I’ve consulted Dr. Google for weeks researching everything I could about mammograms, ultrasounds, and fine needle biopsies. Lesions are never good. And he’s the first one to call what he’s seen on my images a lesion. Ugh….Lori passes me off to Tracey to do a soft mammogram to make sure the marker can be seen. Dr. Bronx can see it on the image and he’s satisfied. He tells me I’ve been a great patient and we shake hands and part ways. I go back to the changing room across the hall to change and collect my belongings. It’s over. But Dr. Bronx and I will meet again…

I left the office feeling ok. I wasn’t as on edge as when I got there but the word lesion kept resonating through my mind. The numbing medication is still working but I can feel myself getting sore. I have a follow up with the surgeon in six days. And over the next six days, I realize that I can view the summary of my appointments and look at my test results on line. I will become obsessed. But for now, it’s Friday, time to put my problem back in it’s little compartment and carry on with my day. I pop two ibuprofen and head out to have my car inspected.