Tired of the dance.

It was with great trepidation that I headed West to Loyola yesterday for my mammogram. I don't know why, but this one seemed to bother me. It wasn't that I really thought they would find something, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I really just didn't want to go.

When I arrived late, I spent very little time waiting before they called me in for my mammogram. I have to tell you, it was less painful and difficult when I had huge tits to smash. Now that I have small ones, it seems they are hell bent on pulling them off my chest to clutch them in the vice grip of death. The huge scar on the right side, from the port being ripped out, hurts like hell when they pull and stretch and squeeze. They went ahead and did both sides because I still had the fluid pocket in the right breast.

For all of my underlying bad vibe feelings, I was not prepared for the afternoon from hell. Yet again, it started with the tech coming back to inform me the doctor wanted more views and different shots to examine "spots" (trust me, their word, not mine) that the radiologist had seen on the first series. The took a new set of completely different angle shots and these hurt like an SOB. I was very relieved when she informed me that I was finished and could wait again. It was now 3:30 (my original appointment having been for 1:20) and any hopes of meeting Amy at the VA to discuss something she wanted me to read for her, were dashed.

After what felt like an eternity, I was told that I would have to have an ultrasound of the right breast because the doctor was concerned with the lump. It was like deja vu all over again! Fortunately, Amy had decided to come over and meet me at Loyola and I took great comfort in knowing she was in the waiting room for me. I just lay on the table with a small sense of dread and a clear knowledge that I was not up to another long drawn battle.

Fortunately, everything is fine. The lump is getting smaller, and while it is taking longer then hoped to dissipate, they do think it will eventually go away. I will live another day to fight the fight. I just hate this particular dance.