Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Power to the Tatas!

Posted by She Said

I need to get something off of my chest (ahem), so to speak…

Turning 40 has been a wild ride so far, and I’m only 6 months in. It started with a celebratory tattoo, an awesome party with wonderful friends, and the running of three 5Ks, one of which included zombies. Forty ain’t so bad!

But then it can be.

Along with that number comes the need for annual boob squishings, otherwise known as mammograms. I had one at 38 because of my mother’s breast cancer diagnosis. I wasn’t thrilled to have to do this; hell, I doubt anyone enjoys them, but I did it. I was told that if the tech found anything, they’d give me a call the next day. I didn’t get a call, so woohoo!

But then I got the letter!

Apparently, someone forgot to make the call and I got the letter (almost two weeks later) instead. A strange mass was found on the mammogram and I needed to go in for further testing. BUT I DIDN’T GET A CALL! I thought I was in the clear, but here was the damn letter in front of me stating otherwise. Nervously I went in for the ultrasound, sweaty as all get out because you can’t wear deodorant. And when do I need to be wearing deodorant? WHEN I’M STRESSED.

The doctor came in after reviewing the ultrasound findings and said I had what looked like a complicated cyst. I just needed to have a needle aspiration (how fun!) and a biopsy, and I’d be good. They are almost always benign, he said. Call my doctor, he said.

Now, I’ll be honest, I’m terrible about doing my own monthly breast checks. Hell, I’m bad about doing them EVER. So, with sudsy, nervous hands in the shower, I felt around for this “cyst” and holy shit. There it was! AND queue meltdown.

Fast forward to the surgeon’s office, and he’s feeling around and can’t find anything. He asked me to show him where I felt it, and I couldn’t find it either. I guess suds and a shower is to feeling a bump as a box a kleenex and porn is to Larry Flynt’s Friday nights.

Two days later, I go in for the biopsy and needle aspiration (again, doesn’t that just sound like a good time?). I couldn’t feel anything, thankfully, because of the local anesthetic, but I could SEE everything he was doing since it was an ultrasound guided biopsy and the screen was right in front of me. AND queue deer in the headlights.

After the biopsy, the doctor informed me that it was not a cyst but a tumor. The difference being that a cyst is fluid filled, and a tumor is solid. Given that it was almost an inch in length, he was not able to aspirate it through the needle. He again assured me it looked benign, and that it most likely was a fibroadenoma. AND queue painful waiting and some wicked bruising.

Boob(I know, gross. Sorry.)

And more waiting, waiting, waiting…

After doing a TON of reading (thanks, google!) about this, I discovered that fibroadenomas are usually found in younger women, while phyllodes tumors, that look very similar, are often found in women in their forties and older. Thank you, forty, for being such an unpredictable bitch. Again, it is rare for one of these to be malignant, but there is a small percentage that are.

After THREE (THREE!!!!!!) full days of excruciating, gut-wrenching waiting, the results came back, and the samples were benign (hoo-fucking-ray!!!) and it is either a fibroadenoma or a phyllodes tumor or possibly both. They won’t fully know until it is excised (a nice term for cutting that shit out) and sent to pathology. When asked if it could still be found to be malignant, he said there was a chance, but that none of the samples sent in had any sign of malignancy, so not to worry. He said that to ME, the person hard-wired to worry. But I am going to try and do just that, not worry.

The surgery is scheduled in a couple of weeks, and I’m assured the scarring will be minimal. Good thing; I don’t want to lose that sweet pole dancing gig I’ve got goin’.


  1. All I can do is wish you smooth sailing from here on, but ho-lee cow! You've had quite the ride!

    The bruising looks wicked. Ow.

    1. Thanks, Carissa. Well, I'm in a real bra again today, so hopefully that's a sign of smooth sailing ahead! :)

  2. Heh. You put a picture of your boob on the internet. Sorry. I'm male. I couldn't help myself. Good luck! Surgery doesn't sound fun, or waiting for surgery, but I hope you get a reassuring answer.

    1. If you can figure out that's a boob without me telling you, then you have some serious boob powers, and I bow to you. I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!

    2. Yep. Boob-detecting super powers. I couldn't get flying, or super strength, or invisibility. No! I am pretty good at zeroing in on a nice butt, too, though. So there's that.

  3. Okay, would you damn people put a damn subscribe by email widget on this thing so I can get your posts whenever you write them? Because I didn't know ANY of this was happening until I just came across it on FB (which is completely not reliable.

    Anyway, I'm so glad you're okay. So, so glad you're okay. xo

    1. Just added the widget. Give it a try and let me know if its working for you. :) Thanks for the suggestion.

  4. Thank God. Really. Thank God. Same with my story...

    Dunno if you RITE, yet, lemme fill-you-up withe efficacious epiphany, the avant-gardeness and necessary wisdom to achieve Seventh-Heaven, dear, if ya desire Seventh-Heaven...

    If 'freedom lies in being bold' (Robert Frost), doesn't pushing-the-envelope also result in the Elysian Fields of Utopia? If I'm the sower, we plant the Seed; if I'm an artist, we RITE the symphonies heard Upstairs ☆IF☆ we accept His lead withe orchestra...

    Wanna find-out the fax, Jak, in a wurld fulla the 'power of cowards'? Wanna wiseabove to help a 'Plethora Of Wurdz' [POW!] which are look'n for a new home in thy novelty?? Yay!

    Q: But [gulp] can anyone tell me the difference between K2/IQ? A: Nthn. In Heaven, we gitt'm both for eternity HA! Need a few more thots, ideers, wild wurdz (whoa, Nelly! easy, girl!) or ironclad iconoclasms?

    VERBUM SAT SAPIENTI (Latin: words to [the] wise): As an ex-writer of the sassy, savvy, schizophenia we all go thro in this lifelong demise, I just wanna help U.S. git past the ping-pong-politixx, the whorizontal more!ass! we're in and wiseabove to 'in fin sine fin' (Latin: in [the] End without End -Saint Augustine).

    "This finite existence is only a test, son," God Almighty told me in my coma. "Far beyond thy earthly tempest is where you'll find tangible, corpulent eloquence". Lemme tella youse without d'New Joisey accent...

    I actually saw Seventh-Heaven when we died: you couldn't GET!! any moe curly, party-hardy-endorphins, low-hanging-fruit of the Celestial Paradise, extravagantly-surplus-lush Upstairs (awww! baby kitties, too!!) when my o-so-beautifull, brilliant, bombastic girly passed-away due to those wry, sardonic satires...

    "Those who are wise will shine as brightly as the expanse of the Heavens, and those who have instructed many in uprightousness as bright as stars for all eternity" -Daniel 12:3, NJB

    Here's also what the prolific, exquisite GODy sed: 'the more you shall honor Me, the more I shall bless you' -the Infant Jesus of Prague.

    Go gitt'm, girly. You're incredible. You're indelible. Cya Upstairs. I won't be joining'm in the nasty Abyss where Isis prowls
    PS Need summore unique, uncivilized, useless names?? Lemme gonna gitcha started, brudda:

    Oak Woods, Franky Sparks, Athena Noble, Autumn Rose, Faith Bishop, Dolly Martin, Willow Rhodes, Cocoa Major, Roman Stone, Bullwark Burnhart, Magnus Wilde, Kardiak Arrest, Will Wright, Goldy Silvers, Penelope Summers, Sophie Sharp, Violet Snow, Lizzy Roach, BoxxaRoxx, Aunty Dotey, Romero Stark, Zacharia Neptoon, Mercurio Morrissey, Fritz & Felix Franz, Victor Payne, Isabella Silverstein, Mercedes Kennedy, Redd Rust, Phoenix Martini, Ivy Squire, Sauer Wolfe, Yankee Cooky, blessed b9... (or mixNmatch)

    God blessa youse
    -Fr. Sarducci, ol SNL