"Who ever thought up the word mammogram? Every time I hear it, I think I'm supposed to put my breast in an envelope and send it to someone."
Every time I go in for a mammogram, I am still shocked that the medical world has not come up with a better way to check for breast cancer then squeezing your boob between two pieces of very cold plastic. But nonetheless, I go in get my checked more often then I would like.
So this past week I went in for what I thought would be an easy in and out mammogram. Not sure what my brain was thinking there because what should have been a hour long process turned into a scary 4 hour long process.
Now I will admit I always go into any kind of medical test with a little bit of a guard up. I have to. I think if I didn't, I would really be knocked on my ass every time something didn't come back right. I think any one with my history would probably do the same thing. So this mammogram was no different. I went into with my guard up but with a very positive attitude. And that lasted about 20 minutes. Whatever guard I had up, was demolished with fear yet again.
For those who have had mammograms, you know the process. A very nice, bubbly nurse will come and get you and escort you to a changing area. You undress from the bottom up and get one of those ugly, tie in front robes that feels like crappy polyester on your skin. You lock your belongings up in a locker, grab the key and off you go to the waiting room. A room filled with magazines, snacks, coffee and other women all dressed in the same color robe as you.
As I sit waiting for my name to be called, I always wonder why these other women are here. Are they here just like me, hoping that their breast cancer is not back? Are they here just for their annual routine mammo? Are they here because they found something and this test will either change their life forever or hopefully give them a sigh of relief? Whatever the reason, there is a sensitivity and a comfort that you automatically have when you enter that room. And as you start small talk with them and you try and laugh about the whatever crazy thing the latest celebrity has done, their name is called and the only words you have left is "good luck".
One by one, everyone is called back. My name is called and off I go with my bubbly nurse to get this process started. I stand in front of a machine, half undressed, with about a million emotions going through me. I try and smile as the nurse tries to position my not so big boob into this contraption. Nothing like a good mammogram to remind that me that my boobs are even smaller then I realized.
As I go through the process on both sides, I constantly watch the nurses face. Now I am sure they are trained to not show any expression but I always try to read them and look at the images to see if I can protect myself from what they are going to tell me.
We finish both sides and the nurse steps out to look at the images to make sure she has everything she needs. I sit as patiently as I can(which we all know is not very patient) waiting for her to come back into the room. When she does, she informs me that she needs a few more images of my one side. So she does her best to once again get me in position to get her pictures. When we finish, she ask me again to sit while she looks at the images. What seems to be an hour is only a few minutes when she comes back in and lets me know that the doctor would like to get an ultrasound right away to check things out more. So the nurse escorts me back to the waiting room where an entirely new group of women are sitting there waiting. I sit down and try to smile and not worry. I remind myself that I have been down this road before and I would rather them be overly cautious then not!
I start to relax while chatting with the other women waiting when my name is called again. Off I go with a little bit more serious nurse but still very nice. We walk to the ultrasound room saying very little. She escorts me into the room and I lay down on the table where she promptly starts the exam. I will say I appreciate the person who invented the gel warmer. My hero! =) I lay there starring at her face, examining every look the best I could. I try and look at the screen as she moves all around this one spot, hoping I could see something. I have no idea what I am looking for or even what I am looking for so I just go back to trying to exam her face. She finishes and hands me a warm towel to try and wipe up all the gel that is now all over my armpit. She leaves the room to consult with the doctor. Once again, I am left laying there waiting very impatiently.
She returns, rather quickly, with a doctor. The doctor wants to take a look herself and I instantly start asking questions. She tries to give me the "do not worry until we have something to worry about" and I quickly remind her that she is obviously in here because something is not right. I ask her to just be upfront with me for I have been down this road before and waiting is worse then not knowing. So she turns the screen so that I can see and shows me a spot that is concerning to her. My eyes begin to water and I try to not let the fear take over me. She stops the exam, takes my hand and lets me know that I will not leave this office until I know what is going on. I compose myself, smile and say "what's next?" Fine Needle Aspiration. Which in English means a needle being stuck into my boob!
As she prepares to stick a needle into my breast, my stomach growls. I hadn't eaten lunch yet since I wasn't expecting to be here this long. The doctor hears my stomach growls and ask if I need something to eat before she starts. I let her know that my stomach may be growling but I am far from hungry. She tells me to take a few deep breathes and starts the procedure. It takes only a few minutes and I am band aided up and sent to the waiting room to wait! They will be able to look at the cells right there and then to let me know what to expect. So off to the waiting room I go.
I sit in the waiting area trying to not let my mind wonder. Which is pretty impossible! This is a road I have been down one to many times so I just try to brace myself for what is coming and try to smile through the fear. A new nurse comes out and escorts me to an office room with a door. I hate office rooms with doors because they only take you to those damn rooms when they want to tell you something bad! As I walk into the room, my entire face turns white as a ghost and I feel like someone has knocked the wind out of me. I take a seat and the doctor comes in to talk to me. My eyes begin to water as she starts to talk to me. At first I can not hear anything she is saying because my emotions were getting the best of me. Then she stops, takes my hand and says "Krissie are you hearing me? We found no cancer!!"
The tears continue to fall but for a completely different reason now. The tears of fear are being washed away with tears of joy! Tears I do not always get to shed but am so very grateful for! When the tears dried up, I begin to tell the doctor that in the future I would appreciate to never be put in another one of these rooms! I think I lost years off my life by the stress of this entire process. A process I will have to go through again in 6 months and hoping the outcome is the same!
I know I am not the only one who has had these types of scares! I hear the stories all the time and each time I hear them I feel that fear all over again. I am of course beyond grateful for the good news and can only hope and pray that the good news just keeps on coming.
I still have a very long road ahead of me and I don't know what the road holds but I do know that this has only given me a stronger will to fight so that good news is all I hear! I learned to never let fear take away my hope!
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