Wordless Wednesday (or) I Blame His Father.

"Whatever Comes Next"

So, I went and had a mammogram:

(Me, patiently waiting for my mammogram)

Because I found a lump in my left breast: the left one.

The first thing I learned was that although they schedule you for an ultrasound, you aren’t getting one unless something is wrong.

“I have an appointment at 10 for a bilateral mammogram and an ultrasound.”

“Ok – I please fill this out. So you know, they will most likely only perform the mammogram; we only schedule you for an ultrasound if we see something concerning. We just make sure you have enough time allotted in case something is wrong”.

**Note to front desk girl: please refrain from using “in case something is wrong” when speaking with women checking in for their mammogram.**

The squish-your-boobs-machine wasn’t horrible. I prayed a lot. I thought about how much worse being engorged with gallons of milk felt. I thanked God for having a very nice tech who obviously knows how intimidating the squish-your-boobs-machine can be. I babbled. I told her all about how J.D. took me to a prom and got me a tattoo for my 30th birthday because I didn’t want to feel old. I bit my cheek to shut myself up.

Eventually, the tech left the room, came back, left the room again, and came back.

“We are going to try again to get that lump in another picture, and the radiologist just wants a few more shots of that right side.”

“Left. It’s on the left. The lump is right here – on the left side.”

“No, the right. He just wants some shots of the right.”

“oh. ok.”

So I did as I was told, discovered something called ‘the cleavage hold’ that would have been a really popular bar trick back in the day, and posed for a few more shots of boob #2.

“Just go ahead and stay right here – I’ll either come back in to take more pictures or I’ll come back in to take you to an ultrasound. He’ll more than likely ask for the ultrasound – its very difficult to get that lump in a picture, and he’ll want to take a closer look at that right side.”

“lef.. ultrasound?”

“Hm?”

“nothing.” (something is wrong, then, right? That’s what he girl said, right?)

So she left and came back and said “yes, we’re going to go ahead and take you over to ultrasound. How do you feel about sitting in a waiting room with men while you’re wearing the gown? Do you want a more private place to wait?”

“No. Hey, so, is this the part where you tell me not to jump to conclusions or worry?”

And then she did that stupid honest smile. The one that you carefully practice that specifically means nothing, so that later, if something is wrong, the person on the receiving end doesn’t feel like you lied to them.

I sat in the waiting room listening to a woman talk to another woman about her bone scan, and a man talk to his kids on his cell phone. “We’ll be home as fast as we can – me and mom are taking care of something and then we’ll go out and have junk food”. The tech came and moved me to the ultrasound waiting room where I listened to a nurse talk about her daughters’ birthday party and I watched Dora The Explorer on the the T.V.

Ultrasound tech: "HI ARE YOU SHERRI? HOWAREYOU I’LL BE DOING YOUR ULTRASOUNDFOLLOWME." I already didn’t like her.

“So you have one lump on your left that you can feel and an area on the right, right? We’ll be just looking at the right side. An area is all. Ok? Uh HUH! OK.”

She spent a few seconds looking for the lump with the wand and said “you’ll have to point to it”.

“It’s right h-”

“Just point to it with one finger”.

*point*

*pokes me with the wand* “ok!” and moves on the the ‘area’ on the right, where she spent a good 10 minutes with her wand and a ruler – clicking her mouse and typing and clicking. “OK! Stay here and I’ll be back!” and she was gone.

She came back, stared at her paperwork, signed something, and said “He wants me to tell you that we don’t see anything suspicious were you think you found a lump, and you need to follow up with your doctor.” and hands me a check out paper.

“But so what is it then? That’s normal? And what’s on the right? What now? What happens next?”

“He wants me to tell you that we don’t see anything suspicious were you think you found a lump. And that you need to follow up with your doctor.”

“Where I *think* I feel a lump? But you feel it, right? It’s there. I feel it and my husband feels it and my mom and the other lady- she felt it. I don’t have a doctor. What do I do next? What’s on the right side?”

“Sometimes your breast tissue changes and you think you feel something. You’ll need to follow up with your doctor.”

“That’s not regular breast tissue. Where you able to see anything on the ultrasound?”

“He wants me to tell you that we don’t see anything suspicious were you think you found a lump. And you need to follow up with your doctor.”

“I DON’T HAVE A FRICKIN DOCTOR.”

So that’s that. Needless to say, I was a bit frazzled and slightly homicidal when I left there – but I feel better because I tracked down the ‘what to do next’ portion..

Tomorrow, Sarah from the Cancer Center will call me and we will go over what the notes in the system say together- and do whatever comes next. If it means going in for another ultrasound and having someone actually look at the left side, I’ll do that. If it means a biopsy, I’ll do that. If it means [fill in the blank] on the right side, I’ll do that. So ‘whatever comes next’ is the plan.

Ridiculously, if I did have insurance (and a doctor) this part would take 2 weeks – as it is, I only had to wait out the weekend.

P.S. Have you squeezed your boobies today?

We Take Care Of You

“Hello?”
"Yes, hello. Is this Mrs. Darley?"
“Yes.” Great. A telemarketer.
"Mrs. Darley? Did you get an order from your doctor recently for a medical exam?"
“Yes.” What? Why did you answer that question? Now you’re stuck. Wow, she’s good. Totally tricked me with a surprise question.
"Mrs. Darley? Mrs. Darley, did your doctor recommend that you have a mammogram? Do you have paperwork that says that she thinks you need a mammogram?"
“Um. Yes.” Strangers asking me about my boobs is weird. Why am I still talking to this person? How do they know to ask these questions? What’s g..
"Mrs. Darley? Do you have medical insurance right now?"
"No. What do you wa..”
"Mrs. Darley? We are taking care of all of this for you. I don’t want you to worry. We’re going to pay for that and whatever comes next. You don’t have to worry."
” ..wh.. Why? What?”
"Mrs. Darley, I’m calling from Seton. We are the Austin Cancer Center. We take care of you. We are going to pay for a bilateral mammogram and ultrasound exam, and whatever comes next. Whether that means a biopsy or more tests – whatever comes next, we will take care of you. Can you fax me that order from your doctor? As soon as I get it, I can set your appointment up. Is next week too long to wait?"
“Oh. Oh my God. Wow. Thank you. I was just.. I thought that we couldn’t – and in Canada *hiccup* they can – and it’s really *gasp* really expensive – and I was *hiccup* afraid that – because my mom. She had – and I’m *crack* I’ve just been so - *sob sob sob sob* and I *sob* – thank you.”
"Mrs. Darley? We’re going to take care of you. I don’t want you to worry. It’s ok to be afraid – just don’t worry."
..And there you have it. My appointment is on Friday, October 2nd at 10 am. Just like that.
I’m afraid. I admit it – but I am not worried about how to pay for results I don’t want. I know me well enough to know that I would have talked myself out of the appointment all together if I had to figure out where to come up with over a thousand dollars – just to check if something is wrong (I know – that is ridiculously stupid, but welcome to a family of 7 and only one ‘real’ job).

Family: Don't freak out.

You know how sometimes I don't really put things delicatley, and I just blurt stuff out?

I found a lump in my left breast. BUT I went the doctor, like your supposed to.

She said “I am not overly worried, but with such a family history of cancer, I want you to have a mammogram”.

That’s verbatim. I quote her, because I have dissected what she said and how she said it over and over and over again, looking for more or less or something else. I know there’s nothing else, she’s always been very honest with me and she never dulls anything down so as not to freak me out. She knows I’ll freak out anyway. She knows that there isn’t anything she could possibly tell me that is worse that what I make up in my head when I don’t have her quotes to obsess about.
It’s probably nothing, because if it were something, she would have just said “You need to get a mammogram” or “I’m concerned” because that’s ok for a doctor to say. That’s their job.Right?

“I am not overly worried, but with such a strong family history, I want you to have a mammogram” and then “Ohh. You are self-pay. Hmm.” because YAY: No insurance. and then “don’t let not having insurance deter you from having this done. This is important.” Great.

So this morning, I’m online searching for programs that offer mammograms to those of us that cannot pay $300-$500 to have one and $230-$400 to have the results read. Only in this case, “searching for programs that offer mammograms” equals “writing blog posts that will freak out your family”.