I had my first yearly ONLY mammo today and I was sweating it. Between being off of Tamoxofin for a year while trying to get PG AND the fact that I've had some pain in old left...well I was worried. Like up the past 10 nights worried.
Then this morning was like the Large Marge story because the weather was as it was four years ago when Megan and I went for my first mammogram to make sure that little lump was nothing. It was something. A big black something that kind of crapped all over my 35th bday. I kept thinking this morning, "I LOVE this fall weather so much......oh no...but wait...it was a day JUST LIKE THIS...." then I'd remind myself that science doesn't care about the Skilling forecast.
I was a thought machine on the bus going so far as to just really imagine what it would be like if they found something again and actually talking myself through it. "well you won't have to shave your legs again...that was pretty dope." or "You still have all those amazing friends and family around...I bet they'll be there for me again, if need be. That was also pretty fly."
But all that anxiety and meditation was for naught because...
All clear! They have a new breast imaging center at Rush and it's lovely. Girly, peaceful, relaxation screens everywhere. The new machines are spanky new and clean. The tech was chatty and sweet and had a mom who survived breast cancer. At one point she said, out of the blue, "You were just too young to deal with all this, weren't you honey." It almost made me cry but I rallied. The petulant child in me wanted to say "YES! I WAS! And it's actually been really really hard and stressful even four years later!" but I keep that child locked up in the basement with a Curious George book and a bottomless bowl of orange Gatorade so I just said what I always say "Actually it really wasn't all that bad" and that's true too.
HOWEVER I am so giddy and happy right now to know that nothing new has formed and that the pain I've had is just scar tissue and good old fashioned nerve damage. I had a doctor read the results that I've had many times. She always says my "odd name doesn't fit how I look" because she always expects me to be African American or Indian because they have odd names. I usually laugh like a robot as to not align myself with her collar tugging comments. Mild racist or not she's good at reading the images.
Today for whatever reason we just sort of organically decided to look at all my images from the tumor days to today. The scares...the scars...the memories. Afterwards I pictured us laughing like old friends while pointing in slow motion at the blurry and dense breast tissue I've grown to memorize. The giant gap in the left breast where the huge black and pointy tumor was. The healthy and much larger right breast that has been our rock through all this by staying in such great form, reminding me and lefty of the good ol' days when they were both matching friends.
I know they aren't people but I'm a people and those two big size D dungles have been with me from jump street. I love them and am just really proud of them today. Maybe I'm a little proud of myself too. I'm doing the best I can and so are they. Especially rickety old lefty. She's half the girl she used to be but still hanging in there.
Here's to you, ladies. We made it another year.