Welp, I had my mammogram and ultrasound on Tuesday and I heard nothing on Wednesday and thought I was fine. And I heard nothing on Thursday and thought I was fine. I checked the patient portal first thing Friday morning and nothing was uploaded and I thought I was fine. And then I received the phone call at 11am Friday that things were not fine.
I need three areas (which are hopefully benign cysts) in my left breast biopsied. I had a biopsy of my right breast done in October 2019 and it was benign. The easiest explanation that I am clinging to like a person clinging to a ledge of a skyscraper is that breasts change when women approach menopause and maybe Left is just catching up to Right and the baseline changed enough to be concerned. For what it’s worth, Right is fine.
I can’t feel any of these cysts and Doc Ladyparts didn’t feel them either in June.
I cried a bit Friday morning and to be honest my Friday afternoon was less than productive. Sorry, TNP. But mostly I’m still dead inside and am just like… “fuck it.” Fall ’19 was an emotional shitshow and then Covid came, and even after these few months of faked normalcy I find myself completely unable to tie myself into knots over anything anymore. I’ll go through the procedures and follow whatever paths I have to.
But ye gods THREE biopsies? Three opportunities for a bad result? Ugh. My appointment is the first week in August, the day before I’m supposed to go to Hershey with Nephews A&B and their entourage. Thoughts and prayers are appreciated because your girl Kim here is not a brave person.
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