After my first at age 30 the mammograms weren't bad. Yes, they squish the boobs more than seems reasonable or even prudent, but the boobs did always manage to spring back amazingly quickly. Because of my family history I schlepped into the city to a hospital with "better" machines where they didn't squish the boobs quite so energetically and read your films before you got out of your gown. [Do they do that for everyone now?] I had ten years of good baselines and I felt good about it.
Enter Z.
I didn't go to a single doctor for 3 years, save my endocrinologist because I needed the meds. No GYN. No dentist. No dermatologist. No nothing. Looking back I sometimes wonder what I was thinking. But deep down I know what I was thinking—I was thinking I am completely overwhelmed with her issues and blindsided by the amount of doctor and therapy appointments we are attending to for her. Not to mention the attachment stuff and the fact that she full-on rejected us for 9-12 months straight. And don't forget the vomiting.
All that to say there is no excuse and I know it. On Friday I shall go and have the long overdue mammogram sorely lacking my previous devil-may-care attitude. I have turned 40 and 40 has changed everything. My mother was diagnosed with her breast cancer at 40. And my maternal grandmother in her early 40s. Right now 42 feels like if not a death sentence then a sentence which may include but is not limited to surgery/mastectomy, radiation, chemo, and/or a series of drugs with long-term unpleasant side effects. I dread Friday. A lot.
Ever rational K. tells me not to borrow trouble, not to assume, and if the news should be bad that he will help me to cope and make the necessary arrangements so that someone can care for my children while I vomit profusely. I know K. is right. I know he is right most minutes of the day. But the minutes when I feel vulnerable, when I wake in the middle of the night and it is black outside, minutes when I am lonely or frustrated or terrified by life, minutes when I question my genetic predispositions, minutes when I feel the winding fingers of the depression creeping back, in those minutes I am not able to listen to K. I am only able to feel cold and simultaneously long for and dread Friday.
Posted by grrlTravels at April 2, 2008 9:51 PMGirl, you are going now. Now is better than another few years. And come Friday, when you breathe a sigh of relief (and then text me), you will feel worlds better. It is hard not to imagine the worst, I know. Big hugs. Huge hugs.
Posted by: Shelba at April 2, 2008 11:01 PMBetter now than later. All should be well. Let us know, though!
Posted by: OmegaMom at April 3, 2008 12:10 AMTake care-I have a similar history, though my mother and grandmother were both 59 when diagnosed-my mother beat it, though I don't think she has gotten over the experience of facing it at the exact same age as her mother.
I get MRIs-or I used to, haven't tested the new insurance yet-wait? when was my last one? I'm calling...
Please let us know. Warm thoughts to the universe on your behalf.
And yayyy again for K. ~lmc
You may simply not have inherited the gene. Tell yourself that until you know differently. And go get tested. And then come back to tell us that it's fine.
(((Amy)))
Posted by: Jessica at April 3, 2008 12:44 AMif it wasn't 4:20 am and the taxi wasn't going to be outside anysecond, I would call you.
To give you a hug. To tell you not to miss your appointment. And to tell you that it's going to be ok, no matter what happens.
We have similar histories, I skipped mine for 4 years and went 3 weeks ago. Everything is fine. And I *know* I felt a lump. Turned out to be nothing, just saggy, bumpy, lumpy, almost 40 boobs.
I'll be with Shelba, call us if you need to talk.
There's no way around that feeling. I have a greatgrandmother who had BC that got her. Now here I am, a woman who (TMI warning) gets breast cysts for a hobby so I'm always finding lumps and getting scooted off for yet ANOTHER mammogram. Every single time I'm terrified that THIS time...
So I understand. Go. Do it. Whatever happens you'll feel better and stronger for having it out of the way. I'm thinking of you.
It is scary and its impossible not to worry about the "what ifs" but the worrying changes nothing, which of course you know but it doesn't make it stop.
Thinking of you and hoping everything will be okay.
Posted by: Debberoo at April 3, 2008 7:48 AMhug
Posted by: mama d at April 3, 2008 9:03 AMTHe fear of the unknown is the worst. PLEASE PLEASE stay the course and go on Friday. PLEASE?
Hugs... ONce the films come back fine, you'll feel much better
Just to be quite clear there is no way I am going to miss the appointment. Then I would just have to go through the angst all over again! And I have been meaning to get this scheduled for months because I began feeling bad about it and also because I became obsessed with worry.
One way or the other there will be an update tomorrow.
Posted by: Amy/grrlTravels at April 3, 2008 8:26 PMthinking of you. Don't berate yourself for waiting. You've had a boatload going on.
Posted by: Erin O' at April 3, 2008 9:17 PMI can't imagine how scarey that must be; my DH is approaching the age at which his Dad died of a heart attack (48), I imagine it's much the same feelings.
I hope it goes/went well for you and hope the results come back fast. Mine only took a couple of days, I was suprised.
Posted by: Jeanne at April 4, 2008 12:05 PM