I'm writing this for me. But feel free to tag along. It's just that I don't want to forget how this happened. But it will be long and tedious, so make yourself a peanut butter sandwich to bring along on the trip.
I don't like admitting that for far too long I haven't really taken care of myself. When you're a single mom and there are wolves at the door, it's easy to forget to take care of yourself. There are just so many bases to cover .. and then, it becomes a habit I guess and, after all, if nothing is broken, don't fix it. Right? Wrong. Eventually it catches up with you. Maybe years, maybe decades later.
In February, my new dentist refused to treat me because my blood pressure was so high. He was oh-so-kind about it but the fact was it was dangerously high and he was concerned and referred me to a local doctor. I adore my dentist and, if you know me, you know it's hard for me to love any dentist after a very special dentist who was my long time friend and eventually my employer.
So I go to the doctor and he wins points right away by laughing at my jokes and cracking a really good one of his own. I asked him:
"Okay. So I'm 53, overweight and live with my mother. What is a normal blood pressure for me?"
He grimaced and said, "You live with your mother? I don't know if you can be treated!"
Love at first giggle.
After a series of visits and medication, he's got my blood pressure normal. NORMAL! And I've lost eight lbs. (Yes, it's water but eight lbs. is eight lbs!) So now he starts harping at me about a gyno visit and a mammogram. October is breast cancer awareness month so the second lecture takes and I make a mammo appointment but (downside of living in the country) it's a month away. I've waited this long though, so no big deal.
A few days later it became a big deal.
I was in the shower and suddenly I was not alone. Suddenly I bumped into something. There, on the left side of my left breast. Hm. What's THAT? I fiddled with it for a bit and finished my shower. I called Dave in the bathroom.
"Here, feel this."
When he found it his eyes met mine. "What the hell?"
"I know."
We agreed not to say anything to anyone but a few days later I shared the news with Ashley and she insisted I find another place to get a mammogram. In fact, she got on the phone.
I called my doctor and talked with his nurse (who just happens to be the dentist's wife) whom I also adore. My dentist, his wife, my doctor, his nurse. You with me? FABULOUS people. Love, love, love them and this is from someone who basically mistrusts medical professionals. (It's a character flaw.)
So, the nurse agrees I shouldn't wait and orders me a full serving of diagnostic mammogram (which is different apparently from a routine one) at the imaging center of Conroe hospital.
That happened on Monday, October 25th.
It was the experience (not the boobie squishing but the human interactions) that really gave me the willies.
More about that tomorrow. Bring another sandwich, okay? One for me.
I like crunchy peanut butter and white bread.
Lots of peanut butter.
Thanks.
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