On Monday night, March 12, I found a lump in my breast. I was a couple days late doing my monthly self exam, so on a whim while in the bathroom, I did it. And felt this pea sized lump on the left size. It's close to the armpit, and nothing I was familiar with feeling.
We'd been catching up on Flash episodes, so Sean was on the couch, where I plopped down next to him and promptly lost it. A year an nine months ago, I emerged from the bathroom with tears in my eyes and a positive pregnancy test in my hand. That night, I emerged with tears and a new feeling of fear and dread that I've never experienced before.
Gosh, she's very dramatic.
Yes, I majored in theater.
Every bit of my being has been telling me that there is nothing to worry about until there is something to worry about. I felt stupid for not having regular yearly checkups, but smart for remembering to do a self-exam at home each month. I felt stupid for letting my health get so bad the past few years, but proud of what my body has done in recent years. Namely, birthed and fed two babies.
I called and made a doctor's appointment, and played the waiting game. I avoided Dr. Google because that would be pointless and just add to my anxiety.
In the meantime, the world has seemed to be poking me. My favorite show that is kind of indulgent but has so much heart had a main character diagnosed with breast cancer. I got in the car and a song about being brave is on the radio. I see a beautiful friend share on Facebook that she finished her last round of radiation.
I had my appointment today, and it was very preliminary. My doctor felt my lump and we discussed my health. I have an appointment for April 3 for a lateral mammogram and diagnostic ultrasound. She mentioned something about the lump moving around (seemingly not attached to anything) and possible fibroid. But as of right now, there are no answers, just steps to take to figure out if this lump is just a pest taking up valuable breast real estate, or something to really worry about.
So today, I'm just me. No diagnosis. In between possibly being fine and possibly not. I have had some very hard moments in the past 10 days. I've had moments where my mind goes to places I hoped it would never have to go. I've held my babies extra long as they fall asleep, listening to soft piano lullabies and smelling the tops of their heads. I've thought about 6 months, 1 year, 5 years and 30 years from now, wondering if this'll just be a blip on my health history or a major mountain.
It's hard not to think about all the possible outcomes.
I'm trying to protect my sanity right now, because like I said, you cannot worry about something until there's something to worry about.
But damn it, I'm scared. I don't want this. I pray "The Big C" is not what's ahead of me.
I have too much to live for. Too much love and beauty and things to do.
So in the meantime, while we wait to take the steps and get answers, I will love. And see the beauty. And smell the tops of heads. And get shit done.
This post was written on Friday March 23, 2018.
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