Well, it’s been a while since I had health drama but the next chapter of the Boob Saga has begun. My latest mammogram went about as I expected, even though I hoped it wouldn’t.
The Boob Saga Beginnings
I always get my panties in a bunch before doctor visits that require any kind of testing. Mammograms throw me into a tizzy because of my past history with cancer and the fact that my mom had it too.
The Boob Saga really began about eight or so years ago, maybe more (time is such a blur anymore). I had a concerning screening mammogram that required me to go back for a diagnostic one and an ultrasound on my right breast.
I’ve had a cyst on that side since my early 30s. But in my 40s I also got the added joy of dense breasts. Yay!
When I got that first callback for additional imaging, I had myself convinced this was it. Now I was going to have to battle breast cancer. My oncologist had warned me from the get-go that my treatments, including radiation, plus my family history put me at high risk for both breast and thyroid cancer.
I’ve been bracing for a diagnosis of one or the other ever since.
However, even though for two years I had to go back every six months for a “diagnostic check-up” as I put it, I eventually got cleared and it’s been back to screening mammograms ever since.
I should add that the diagnostic stuff started when I decided to go to another location for my screening instead of the one I’d been going to up until that point. It was part of the same group but was literally minutes from my house. The original place I’d been going wasn’t that far, but I’m lazy. Why go 20 minutes away when I could go only 5?
However, after my first diagnostic mammo, I went back to my original place. I was more comfortable with the techs and radiologists there.
Plus, that first diagnostic hurt like a mother. The tech warned me there would be more pressure, but that cyst can hurt and when my boob is being pancaked? With an extra helping of pressure no less? The only reason I didn’t drop to my knees was because that would’ve only torqued my boob more, which was clenched in the vise of the mammography machine.
Mammo 2022 Boob Saga Drama
Anyway, fast forward to 2022. Because of Wayne’s job change, our insurance changed. I couldn’t go back to the place I’m most comfortable with. Our insurance doesn’t cover there anymore.
So I had to go to a new place, which I was dreading because of what happened the last time I went somewhere else. I took my films to them though hoping to avoid a repeat of any drama, but that was to no avail.
Here I go again. I got the call yesterday that they spotted something concerning and I have to come in for the diagnostic and ultrasound.
At first, I was going to have to wait three weeks to do it. I called back today to see if there’s a waiting list I can get on or a different location to go to or something. Three weeks isn’t going to work for me, my nerves, and my overactive imagination.
They can get me in today in their main location. It’s farther from home and in a part of town I don’t like driving in because it’s so congested, but to hurry up and get this ball rolling, I’ll suck it up.
Because there was also another reason this lastest mammogram was more stressful than normal. One I didn’t think about when I first scheduled it but did soon after.
I’m the same age my mom was when she was diagnosed.
Cyst’s reaction to booster?
I’m hoping that it’s just my cyst doing something else. Maybe acting up in response to my covid shot?
I waited almost two months after getting my booster, which I got in the arm on that side, before going in for the mammo, but it’s felt funky under my armpit ever since. My lymph node didn’t enlarge after my first two shots but did after the booster. It eventually went down but like I said…it’s not felt quite right on that side ever since.
And I hadn’t had much pain from the cyst like I once used to. I always knew when my periods were coming because YOW! When my boobs swelled that cyst would cause my right nipple to sometimes explode in FIRE!
But since menopause has hit, that’s been better. Until that damn booster. I’ve also had some pain again in that breast. But since it’s in the exact same spot as my cyst, I didn’t fret about it too much.
The Biggest Disappointment of All
I had an inkling that this visit would be a problem as I walked to my car afterward. I of course prefer to be right most times, but there are times I wish my hunches were wrong. This is one of them.
I also think why I’m so upset is because a big something happened that I gave little fanfare to. Last year I went to my annual oncologist visit and got news I never even knew I could get: that I was totally clear. There was no need to even go in for annual blood draws anymore.
If this proves to be anything worse than just a little more thorough imaging, I’m going to be very disappointed with myself that I slid back into old pre-cancer habits once again. The kind I swore I’d never allow myself to exhibit ever again. Like limiting myself, or talking myself out of a purchase or not trying something new because I didn’t feel I was worth it/worthy.
Life is too fucking short, as I’m once again reminded. I’m also again not living the way I actually want to. I agree to do things I really could care less about. I don’t do things I really want to do. And I’m back to justifying not purchasing things.
Not that I’m a big shopper. I’m talking more about if there’s a nice hotel I’d like to stay at. Thanks to Wayne we can afford some fancier places. Sometimes we do, especially if they’re haunted. I’ll find the cheapest rate possible.
But I’ve also gone back to sometimes forgoing somewhere I really want to stay for a cheaper place.
There are of course times it’s good and/or necessary to be frugal. But there are times that merit a splurge. Whether I end up facing cancer again or not, this has served as a reminder to splurge more. I’m not getting any younger. The time to do it —whatever “it” may be— is now.
In 2020, Covid canceled the 50th birthday celebration plans I’d been saving up for. Then I got the good “all clear” news and what did I do?
Nothing.
I meant to write about it here. Never did.
Wanted to treat myself to a little vacation, even just a weekend away, to one of the many places on my list. Talked myself out of that too.
Now I’m feeling a range of emotions, but the one I feel most strongly, even more than fear, is disappointment with myself for digressing back into my “near-life” ways. (You know how there are “near-death” experiences? Yeah, well there are “near-life” ones too where you’re just living but not LIVING!)
Hoping this latest chapter in the Boob Saga is just a wicked wake-up call to take back my will to live, live, LIVE life to the fullest once more. No apologies. No regrets.