That Time of Year Again

Last year, my doctor asked if I was ready to have a baseline mammogram done. He remembered how opposed I was the previous year. I knew I couldn't hold off any longer - 

I'm getting THAT old. 

I had heard how painful mammograms are. There is that e-mail floating around that says you can practice for a mammogram by letting the garage door slam on your girls. Yikes! But my experience was great and positive. 

No pain whatsoever.

That is, until 2 pm the afternoon before we left for vacation. My doctor's nurse told me they needed to have the mammogram redone. For the next 10 days, when I wasn't telling myself to not think about it, I was telling myself 

it was nothing. 

I thought I was having both breasts redone. Nope. Only one. Crap. That was bad. That means they found something. This time, it was a different lab and a different machine. It hurt like everyone had said. But all I had to do was get through the test, get dressed, and leave.

No. I had to wait to see if they needed to do an ultrasound as well. I was in the changing room. Alone. Oh, how I wished I had J with me. Or my mother-in-law. I should not have gone alone. It was all I could do to 

hold it together.

I had to have an ultrasound. After the ultrasound, I had to wait on the table, in this dark room, alone, while the radiologist decided if he needed to come in and do the ultrasound himself. I couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears streamed down my cheek, slipping into my ear. 

To calm myself, I started singing the Star Spangled Banner. When I am nervous or scared, I sing the American national anthem. It is something I have done for about 15 years. 

It calms me. I'm Canadian.

I thought I had cancer. I tried not to 'go there' but I really felt like with every test, I was getting closer and closer to being told I had to have a biopsy to determine if I had cancer. I tried not to think about my 4 yr old and 

my 1 yr old or my husband.

By the time the radiologist came in, I was beyond modesty. So many people had slammed and squeezed and pressed my breast that afternoon, I didn't care if this man was going to see me. I just wanted to know if I had a 

really long road ahead of me.

After about 10 minutes of poking and prodding, the radiologist determined it was a cyst. He told me right there it was a cyst and I didn't have to come back 

for another year. Whew!

It's that time of year again. I'm scared again. I don't want to go back. I want to live with my head in the sand. I don't want the test. This time, IF I go, I am going to have J come with me. I can't do any of it alone again.