Ms. Left had a lump the size of a grape tomato. Since I was chatting up the tech, she was letting me watch what was going on and the image flashed on the screen. I gasped. I didn't need a radiology degree to see that something sinister was brewing.
In today's fast technology, they make you wait. I saw it. I knew it was there. I knew something else would need to happen. Mammogram on Friday, results on Tuesday. Ms. Left was going to need some additional glamor shots.
|Entourage, including Tiger and Big Baby.|
|Ultrasound room. I fretted that sheet all to pieces.|
I did the usual - cracked self-depreciating cracks about my boob needing to be lifted up out of my armpit to get a good view. The ultrasound lady was so young and perky, she didn't get my joke. I had to explain it. Actually, I just showed her. She still didn't laugh.At some point, taking pictures of this here blog left my mind. It was filled with so many questions that wouldn't get answered until a doctor's appointment four days away. Again? What is up with the slow response time? It only takes two hours to get a driver's license picture, shouldn't a boob get a little quicker response? I am now firmly convinced that all mammograms should be read by men. They would have been all over that boob picture.
At this point, an ultrasound biopsy is scheduled for later this week. I don't have a history of breast cancer in my family. I don't have any other symptoms, such as discharge from my nipple (eeeww). Chances are, it is just a mean ol' cyst. It still doesn't keep me from worrying.
It still doesn't keep me from earning money. For a quarter, I will let you touch it. So far this week, I have made $14.25.