Fear, Relief, Gratitude, and Tequila

This threw me off a bit as I felt like they must be seeing something. I went to a quiet waiting area and called the hubby from my cell phone. I was nervous. I told him I felt like something was not right as they were doing even more imaging. The technician went over and over my right breast without saying much at all in the darkened room. I finally craned my neck to try to look at the ultrasound screen and asked her if she saw something. She responded, "You'll have to talk to the radiologist." Okay.

The ultrasound technician with the personality of a dead fish left me waiting for the radiologist. There I was lying on the examining table alone, in my glamorous cotton gown, in a dark room, and panic set in. My mind started racing. Did I have cancer? Why in the world was this taking so long? The radiologist came in and used the ultrasound wand to examine my breast yet again. She told me that the tissue looked a little suspicious in the area of the fibrocystic mass and asked if I'd ever had it biopsied. She told me I needed an MRI and a biopsy. She said some forms of cancer are more insidious than others and that area was so dense it was difficult to really get a reading on it but there was a small shadow area that needed to be looked at.

The C word. Yet again. I was starting to freak the hell out. The radiologist was not the warmest person in the world. I commented to the technician as I walked out that I was going to go home and have a glass of wine. She quipped, "or the whole bottle." Great, just great. Thanks for the vote of encouragement. My mind races to dark places. I cry off and on the whole way home. The hubby insists I am fine all along. He tells me to be strong and not get upset in front of the girls.

I tell myself that a "shadow" is nothing to get upset over. I tell myself that if I do have something wrong, it is obviously miniscule. I tell myself to not Google information about breast cancer. I try to have positive energy and thank God that I live in a day and age of modern medicine where all of this testing is possible. I tell a few friends and co-workers about what is going on. They are praying for me. I choose not to tell my family yet, which is hard, but I want to know something. It's all so vague. I don't want my mother, especially, to worry unnecessarily.

The breast MRI was not bad at all considering I was prescribed a Valium to take although I was extremely anxious on the way to the appointment. I went in on my stomach on a platform with two openings for my breasts. I had a brief moment of feeling claustrophobic, but closed my eyes and just meditated and prayed. It only lasted about 25 minutes.

On Tuesday of this week was the grand finale of all the testing.