****IMPORTANT NOTE BEFORE READING THIS POST! Everything is fine, I am 100% okay, and nothing to worry about!****
This past Sunday morning, I felt a lump in my breast. This was weird for two reasons:
A) I almost never give myself self-exams, despite the fact that my OB is always harping on me to do so because I have lumpy breasts (more on this later).
B) I wasn't actually looking for a lump-- I was worried about a spot on my skin (because my dermatologist hates me for my 'sun history', as she puts it). The spot was nothing, BTW.
But there it was, definitely a lump.
I am not new to this. In fact, I had a needle biopsy done in my early twenties because of a lump that has since gone away. It was then that I learned of my lumpy breasts, but as all twenty-somethings do, I mostly disregarded the issue and went back to my Bud Light.
Normally, I wouldn't be worried about finding a lump because of my... well, lumpiness. But this one felt different. Hard, like a pea. And I have to admit I had about an hour of panic on Sunday morning.
I know from my complicated pregnancy with Aaron to never-- never-- google medical symptoms or conditions. So I called my OB on Monday morning so she could take a look.
By a miracle of the patron saint of mammograms (Saint Agnes?), my OB had an opening that afternoon. This is a woman who books A YEAR out for appointments, so it was literally amazing that I was able to get in to see her. I also know my OB veeeery well. Let's just say we both have PTSD caused my my pregnancy and birth with Aaron.
Man, does this kid ever owe me.
She was the one who wanted me on hospital bed rest at 28 weeks, the one who wanted a scheduled C-Section, the one who was far more conservative than my perinatologist.
If anyone was going to take a lump seriously, it was her.
After going through some pictures of the kids and talking about the support system that is SO lacking for new mothers in our society, she took a feel of my boobs. And sure enough, she felt the lump.
Actually, she felt two.
'I'm not worried,' she said. But if there's one thing I've learned from my pregnancies, when a doctor isn't worried about you they move slowly. Their priority list is constantly shifting and moving, and to be low on your doctor's priority list is a GREAT thing. But she sent me downstairs to imaging right away, and 15 minutes later I was having my first mammogram and (boob) ultrasound.
I sent a couple 'no-big-deal' texts-- one to L, who of course was worried, and one to J, who had my kids and needed to know I might be late. But other than that, I needed to be quiet and zen-like at that point. I focused on the Kim-Kanye-Taylor feud (they all suck, if you ask me) that was highlighted on the cover of people magazine while I waited for everything to be set up.
I had heard mammograms weren't all that fun, but wow. I was not prepared for the squishing, smashing, and breath-holding that happened in that room. However, the technician was wonderful and the doctor who gave me the ultrasound was fantastic, and within 40 minutes I was told that the lumps were, indeed, just that.
This week has been crazy. So many activities, so busy, so many things going on. But there is nothing like a lump in your boob to make you stop, take notice, and breathe with gratitude for your health.