And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? Luke 12:25
During
the whole cancer thing, I never worried. I had to do what I had to do and that was it.
I had to get a port, I had to lose my hair, I had to get chemo, and I had to
get radiation — see the trend? Besides,
I was (still am) surrounded by worriers who were (are) willing to share the joy
so why not indulge them. In April, as I
was going for that first mammogram after almost 2 years-- Mom asked me if I was
nervous or worried. Nope—and I honestly
meant it. Never occurred to me there
could be something wrong.
Fast
forward to Thursday, October 17 and my 9:45am appointment for what I thought
was a diagnostic mammo and again, I was not nervous or worried. Of course I left my paperwork at home and of
course I opened my big mouth when she said the ultra sound tech would be with
me shortly. I just had to say, “Gee, I
thought I was getting a mammogram.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. So the
call went out to Lynnette who said Dr Lynn said go ahead and do it (of course
she did—anything to inflict pain—remember this for later). And to think I could have avoided that
crap. I will never learn, will I (shut
up Heather). All went well and I went to
work. A little flat, but doing
well. I was all set to get the results
when I saw Dr Lynn the following Thursday.
I
got the first letter on Monday. It
stated there was an area they would like to look at again, but not to worry as
this happens quite often and is usually nothing. I was good with it—heck, Pia (ah the memories
of the nicknames) was filled with scar tissue—as was pointed out during the
April mammogram. Then came Wednesday—the
second letter—the one which made me call Billy and made me hide it from Mom. Again,
I was not too worried as I was more concerned with the people they had writing
these things—who the hell are they and do they sit in little rooms just
thinking of things to write or are they
the people next door sitting at the kitchen table with evil gleaming eyes. Trust me, Mom did not need to see that
letter. So I called Billy and he says it
is probably scar tissue, but don’t be surprised if Dr Lynn does a biopsy. Okay—I was good with that and started to worry
how and when I would be able to fit it into my schedule as I was sure she would
have to bring me back to inflict that pain.
Off
I go and after dealing with the scale and the blood pressure, I waited for the
good doctor. She did not
disappoint. After catching up, she shows
me the images and tells me the results of the ultra sound and why the
radiologist had concerns. She then goes
into how that person (I will not say the name of the radiologist as-- well, it
is memorable and let’s just leave it at that) is pushing for an MRI and that
she feels the only way to get a true picture is to do a biopsy. I say whatever you want. She jumps up, says she will be back in 5
seconds and leaves. She is back in 4 and
the words “crap--you are doing the biopsy now” slipped out just as Lynnette
walks in laughing “Liza—wondered where you were.” I am told don’t worry, it will not be bad and
she was going to numb me. As always, she
was full of crap. She brought me to
tears it hurt so much. I think I heard
an evil laugh when I told her I hated her and she liked to inflict pain and
that God would punish her someday. I
took great pleasure in yelling “Ouch” as she ended the biopsy. Still, she won as it hurt for 2 days. Poor Pia.
I was sent on my merry little way with an “I’ll call with the results—could
be tomorrow, but more than likely Monday.”
I figured I had had a really bad morning so I first stopped at Whole
Foods for their cranberry tuna and a hard roll—which I had not had in a while
and then figured what the heck, I wondered what type of cupcakes were on the menu
at Coastal. And as Grandpa would say “Hot
Dog! “as it was chocolate peanut butter day.
And off I went. Not only did I get
a cupcake, I got this icing shot—chocolate peanut butter—which made it less
than a block. Heck, I deserved it!
It
hit me on the way back to work it might not turn out the way we all expected it
to. The decision to not tell Mom was
easy and I will blame that on Billy. A
handful of people knew and that was fine.
My thinking was why worry people when more than likely it would be
fine. Then that little voice said “maybe,
maybe not.” Damn little voice. So Friday
came and Friday went, with no call. I
made it through the weekend, but I will admit to getting more and more
nervous. By 3:00 this afternoon I had
had enough. I called and luckily
Lynnette answered the phone. I asked if
the results were in and yes they had just been sent—she pulls them up and says “bunch
of medical stuff here—but here is what you need to hear—biopsy was negative for
cancer.” Whew. Funny I did not realize how much I was
worrying. I made it one more hour at
work and then figured it was time to come clean with Mom. She handled it well and I am glad I did not
tell her. However, this does not bode well for the future. Maybe she will forget. Yeah, I know…. Keep dreaming.
