Mammogram Scare

...or the scariest, most horrifying day of my life.

So, I had my first mammogram the other day. (see my post from Tuesday.) About 3 hours after the test, I got a call from the Breast Center asking me to come back for some more views of the right side.

I'm so NOT a worry wart. I didn't jump to any conclusions or start planning my funeral. Cutest Boy did, though. He was more than a little concerned. I had heard that it was not uncommon to be called back in for more pictures.

I went back yesterday. As I was sitting in the waiting room listening to Kathie Lee Gifford be completely self-indulgent, I started getting a weird "vibe."

The staff was looking at me differently. Their voices were quieter, more solemn.

The radiologist gets me in the room and tells me the doctor saw something and that because it was my first mammogram and because I have such dense breast tissue (code speak for "your boobs are fat), she wanted another test. Could be something. Could be nothing.

That seemed pretty straight forward. So, she gets 4 more views and says, "Follow me. You'll be having an ultrasound in this room."

What??????!!!!!!!!

I'm thinking: She saw something that warrants an ultrasound???!!! I have breast cancer.

She sits me in a quiet dark room to wait for the US tech. She comes in, gets me on the table and starts the test.

I'm laying there trying not to start crying. So, my breathing is rapid and jerky. I close my eyes and desperately try to quote scripture.

Nothing. I can't grab anything from my brain.

So, I try to make a list in my mind for everything I need to do to get ready for my mother-in-law's surprise party Sunday night.

I can't even do that. My mind is racing.

Panic and fear are trying to take over my body and I'm desperately trying to fight them off but I can't even get a prayer to form in my brain. The tech asks me if she's hurting me and I realize that tears have slipped from the corners of my eyes. I am losing the battle.

About then, I grab the song "Strong Tower" and sing it - or some version of it - in my mind. I wish I could say peace washed over me, but it didn't. I was sinking.

She finished about then. And, in a quiet voice told me she would get the doctor. Another bad sign. Why do I need to see the doctor unless it's bad news?

As I sit there, I am completely overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty. I'm sure every scenario of my life passed through my mind in those few minutes I was in there alone.

But, my worst fears did not come true yesterday. The doctor kindly delivered the news that I have two cysts, benign, that will probably resolve on their own. No more treatment required. Come back in a year.

I'm still processing that whole 45-minute ordeal. I had a terrible day and evening after that. Today that sounds a little ridiculous but I'm still a little shell-shocked. I've never, ever dealt with anything like that with my own health, my own mortality.

I didn't like it.

B.