Enter the ultrasound. We are now entering the ironic phase of How I spent my Christmas Vacation. I was still fairly confident that I had nothing to worry about, I just had very fat dense boobs. Ultrasounds, I can handle. I had a bazillion of them when I was pregnant with my twins, and then when my gall bladder went kerphloey and then when I was diagnosed with sarcoidosis, as well as when they saw nodules on my thyroid. I am no stranger to the cold chill of the ultrasound gel on various body parts, so I wasn’t worried about this particular event.
I was rocking the oh so lovely gown they gave me, and laying on the table, chatting with the tech as she did her thing. She squished, she squashed, she took pictures. When she was done, she asked me to wait there as she wanted the radiologist to look at them. Now I’m no idiot, I knew that wasn’t good news. While she was gone I sat up and looked at the monitor, and there it was. I didn’t know what IT was, but it didn’t look friendly.
The radiologist came in and did a few more passes with the ultrasound, and looked at the pictures and told me that he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but it wasn’t just a cyst. Of course it wasn’t. I do not have that kind of luck. The radiologist and the nice ultrasound tech told me not to stress and just relax (HA) and I would be hearing from the lovely intake nurse Erika who was kind of like their guru for stuff like this. Why would I be hearing from Erika – to schedule my biopsy. Now that is not a word that fills the heart with laughter and light. Biopsy is a dark scary word.
I went home and didn’t really say anything to my kids because twin A was embarking on a cruise and would be gone over the holidays, and if I couldn’t share with twin A, I certainly wasn’t going to share with twin B. I’m no idiot, they be be adults now, but the twin competitveness runs deep. I could hear that conversation in my mind. “Mom told ME first.” Nope, I wasn’t telling anybody anything until there was something to tell.
Nice nurse Erika called the very next day and set up my biopsy for two days after Christmas. Again, the irony of how I spent my Christmas vacation is strong. She asked if I had any tight fitting sports bras that had a front opening. I laughed hysterically because a sports bra means exercising. I don’t do that. I don’t look like I do that, and I probably never will. I kept that little tidbit to myself, however and promptly shopped on Amazon. Side note, I am now the proud owner of 3 front opening sports bras that will probably languish for ever in my underwear drawer.
They also scheduled another appointment for me for the next day with the Lahey Breast Center. It was a worst case scenario thing. IF thee was something wrong, they wanted me to be familiar with the Doctor/Office I’d be dealing with. I was like sure, no problem because I was living in denial land that there was nothing wrong.