I am a ninny.
Last Friday I finally went in to get a mammogram and found out that I have…..boobs.
I let myself go for a week and a half thinking - well, the worst. What a ninny, when I could have eased my mind right away. In the conscious analytical part of my mind I was handling it fairly well, but I'm still getting over the subconscious effects, which were completely unexpected, and manifested themselves in pain, fatigue, deep mental lethargy, and a hammering heart in the morning and when I'm trying to fall asleep. Luckily I've got a decent doctor who can get straight to the underlying issues, so things are slowly improving. I expected everything to fall back into place immediately after the good news, but this was not the case, so I have to be patient.
My (Stupid) Plan was to have the test and then tell Gary, but he happened to come home early when I stopped at home before my appointment. So I told him, and he was everything that a great husband should be and insisted on going with me.
We lost my Aunt Sherry (my Mom's younger sister) at age 55 this past May to ovarian cancer about two years after her diagnosis. My maternal grandmother also died of cancer, but then both she and Aunt Sherry did smoke like fiends. (Grandma Betty's brand was unfiltered Pall Malls - ghakkk!) And several folks that I know are fighting breast cancer. The idea of losing my boobs and my hair does not appeal, and even less does the idea of my family having to go through that again. My Mom sends out a kind of cancer vigilance email to all her friends on a fairly regular basis. (Yay, Mom!) And yes, I do listen. Eventually.
I let myself go for a week and a half thinking - well, the worst. What a ninny, when I could have eased my mind right away. In the conscious analytical part of my mind I was handling it fairly well, but I'm still getting over the subconscious effects, which were completely unexpected, and manifested themselves in pain, fatigue, deep mental lethargy, and a hammering heart in the morning and when I'm trying to fall asleep. Luckily I've got a decent doctor who can get straight to the underlying issues, so things are slowly improving. I expected everything to fall back into place immediately after the good news, but this was not the case, so I have to be patient.
My (Stupid) Plan was to have the test and then tell Gary, but he happened to come home early when I stopped at home before my appointment. So I told him, and he was everything that a great husband should be and insisted on going with me.
We lost my Aunt Sherry (my Mom's younger sister) at age 55 this past May to ovarian cancer about two years after her diagnosis. My maternal grandmother also died of cancer, but then both she and Aunt Sherry did smoke like fiends. (Grandma Betty's brand was unfiltered Pall Malls - ghakkk!) And several folks that I know are fighting breast cancer. The idea of losing my boobs and my hair does not appeal, and even less does the idea of my family having to go through that again. My Mom sends out a kind of cancer vigilance email to all her friends on a fairly regular basis. (Yay, Mom!) And yes, I do listen. Eventually.