February 2, 2012 § 4 Comments
So when you have a hysterectomy you think you have outsmarted your own body. You think when you take out your uterus there’s no where for your body to grow weird things however just like in Jurassic Park, nature finds a way. One of the things they tell you when you start taking estrogen is that you need to make sure you are vigilant about giving yourself breast exams which I’m fine with but the way they tell you is a little odd; “Make a night out of it. Draw a hot bath, put on some nice music and bring some wine in their with you” Umm, do I really need to get my own self in the mood for a breast exam. I mean seriously, I would never let anyone touch me without at least a nice dinner first, not even myself.
Needless to say on one of these “date nights” I discovered something, at first I was hoping it was a rouge Milk Dud that somehow got lost under my shirt but then I remembered I would never let a Milk Dud get away. In a classic Me move I decided to ignore it for a month and hoped it went away. It didn’t. So I was on my way to a brand new doctors office solely dedicated to breasts.
First when you enter a place that only deals with boobs you wonder how big can it possibly be, I mean how many jobs around boobs can there be? The answer, a whole hell of a lot. The waiting room was a bit weird it was decorated like a mountain lodge complete with a fireplace, keurig coffe maker and magazines about bird watching. I so often think to myself “what would make this lump in my boob less scary? Smores! Yes perfect and hopefully a moose sighting”. I sign the sheet and then get asked “Who discovered the lump?” I did. “Did you personally or someone else?” What do you mean by someone else? “Did your boyfriend or husband discover it ?” (What kind of men has she been dating my boyfriend wouldn’t notice if I had a ham sandwich in my chest, when he sees boobs that’s it.) “Or possibly a friend?” (Seriously what kind of orgies does she think I am having. Hey you want to come over for a girls night? We can watch chick flicks, eat ice cream and of course feel each other up. I mean what kind of porn films is she watching)
I take my little clipboard to my seat and there is a terrifying picture on the bottom. It’s a woman with 6 breasts and it says mark below where you are having the problem. Not much shocks me since my hysterectomy & menopause but I start thinking to myself, is this why I have had so many ex boyfriends because I only have two boobs. What if I have been a medical freak all these years with my two boobs amongst all these 6 breasted women, or did I get the alien or circus freak form. So I go up to the desk and this is here actual explanation and if you can follow this you are smarter than me “Ok well it’s quite simple mark the two center ones if the problem is in the center quadrant of your breast or if you have only one breast, the next two you would mark if you have had implants or your pain is in the outer four corners. Mark the outer two if your pain is under your arm pits, the growth moves or if you had surgery in any of the areas. Got it” Umm sure. So I circled the whole illustration and sat down.
After reading the newest issue of Bluebird monthly it is time for my mammogram and a delightful technician who keeps telling me that people my age always do their breast exam wrong because we have naturally lumpy breasts takes me back. Just as I am about to step into the machine she sniffs the air and glares at me “are you wearing deodorant?” Of course, I’m not homeless. “You can’t wear deodorant during a mammogram!” (so this machine sometimes misses cancer but it doesn’t miss speed stick?) We do the standard mammogram, while she says “At your age were not going to find anything” They do. So then we move on to the more invasive mammogram (really there’s one thats worse) So I stand sideways with my arms in the air while she says “This is a more accurate test and at your age nothing will show up” It does. So we move onto the most invasive mammogram they have, you put your boob into a cut out of a circle, put your arms in the air and then in presses and starts to turn and twist (ok seriously now your just making this shit up, there’s no way this is a test. and then I think to myself if a man had to do this there would be no way it would still be done like this but I must admit it was giving me some satisfaction to think about some guy with his testicles in this torture device) I am brought back to reality by her saying “With this test at your age I’m sure we’ll find nothing” They did.
I am taken back to get a sonogram, where I meet, drum roll please……… the woman with no personality. She asks me what the scar on my breast was from and I say I had a fibroid removed and she tells me “No you didn’t breasts can’t have fibroids” Um well that’s what it says on my chart. “Well they are wrong.” Ok. We sit in silence only for it to be broken by the words “At your age there’s probably nothing to worry about and the doctor won’t even see you today” She did. The tech goes to get the doctor while I look at the machine that she just operated and I swear to good t looks like something Leap Frog sells to children. No wonder this woman has no personality she got her degree from Fisher Price. There are three big buttons on the machine one with a disk on it, one with a piece of paper and the hugest button has a picture of a snowflake. So we have Save, Print and Freeze and that’s it, oh wait there is the cord that plugs into the wall.
I meet with the doctor who tells me there is a lump and with my history it could be a bunch of things or just a fibroid (at the word fibroid I glare at the tech who is oblivious) but I was going to have to meet with a surgical oncologist for a second opinion and surgery options. She gives me a referral and says the following “Now make sure you get her and no one else at her office” Why? “Because she’s the office nipple expert” (that is what one of my creepy co-workers calls himself,too)
Off to the nipple expert, to be continued…………………………
February 22, 2011 § Leave a comment
Dante describes the first circle of hell as waiting in limbo, obviously Dante had spent some time with is wife in gynecologists waiting rooms.
After your hysterectomy you will have a weekly follow up visit with your doctor, this is probably the first time you have left the house since the surgery so be prepared to be blinded by the light as you make your way outside (small children & dogs might run away from you). The other thing to consider is you are going to be encountering actual people so you must let go off your Spongebob jammies (they will be home waiting for you, I promise)
First off, my doctors office is on the third floor and there is no elevator which I never noticed before but being as I haven’t walked more than from the couch to the refrigator, I now am insainlypissed. These women have just had surgery, going through menopause and for fun we’ll make them climb steep ass metal stairs (typical male doctor). When you finally make it up Everest you enter the office and the receptionist gives you a smile (she really is congratualting you that you didn’t die on your way in or should I say up). My mom gets my paperwork as I collapse & look for a magazine “Why do these all have Sally Field on the cover?” Then I look to my left and then to my right, I am the youngest person in here by 30 years. One woman actully has a walker and oxygen tank (which I’m convinced they gave her after taking the stairs)
I pull out my Chelsea Handler book while getting weird looks from the other women, especially at my shoes. They all are glaring at my polka dot heels, apprently I did get the memo to wear orthopedic shoes. The nurse calls my name and I get up but she stops me and says “Oh sorry hun no family, but you can wait for your mother out here”