Tag: women’s health

  • the parking validation

    So I draft this from a small Winship Emory Midtown waiting room. I have my coffee from home, my phone, a white robe that has no tie at the waist like it should, and a bag with my tops inside. Jared is waiting in the main lobby. The diagnostic mammogram is done. 

    But at the end… The tech told me she was going to give me validation for my parking.

    I do not know what that meant…. but it does not bode good things.

    I have delivered two children at Emory Midtown — I have probably been here over 50 times in the last 18 years — and they never validated my parking before. 

    I know the ultrasound was an optional follow-up and the tech made out like I’d be having the ultrasound but then she backtracked and said it was pending the doctor looking at the images…

    And now, wistfully, I wait.

    ————————

    And the tech came back for me. We repeated the images, for “spot checks,” on the concerning side.

    I am pretty sure I know what is coming.

    ————————

    I sit and wait. At least six people have come and gone back and left. I texted with Jared a little, telling him I was sure I have breast cancer. Jared says to wait and see what the doctor says. 

    I waited over a month for this diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound. I panicked when the date was so far out and scheduled one at Tanner for October 15, but I ended up having a late-scheduled tele-health appointment with my endocrinologist on the 15th and had to cancel the Tanner appointment. 

    It meant waiting, but honestly if I have to deal with medical complications I am grateful to be dealing with Emory, not Tanner.

    ————————

    The wait on the ultrasound table for the radiologist, after the tech did the ultrasound, was the longest ever.

    Turns out, I am fine. No breast cancer, no problems under my arm at all. They were very thorough. The radiologist herself came in to explain the mammogram was clear, the ultrasound was clear. 

    I probably have a fungal rash (I have been telling Jared since my appointment last week that it is probably ringworm) like the dermatologist thought it might be. The spot is fading with the creams she gave me. I didn’t tell them that this morning though. 

    I still have zero idea why they validated my parking, though. Or why they repeated the mammogram on the concerning spots. At all. Oh well. 

  • (sort of) falling apart

    I have been quiet about this, only telling really family and my ladies’ group at church…

    But I have to have a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound next week. I’ve known about it for over a month but the appointment was this far out.

    I have a weird skin spot. And I had a dermatologist appointment yesterday and she confirmed that the spot is concerning. It is possible it is just a rash and she gave me some creams to try for a month for that. If the creams don’t work, depending on what the diagnostic mammogram shows, I am to come back to the dermatologist in a month for a biopsy.

    But the dermatologist was glad I have the diagnostic mammogram scheduled.

    Also: I have reason to believe that a pilonidal cyst I had 25 years ago is coming back. *sigh* I never had it excised 25 years ago because at the time, I was coincidentally on Accutane for severe cystic acne and the Accutane dried up the pilonidal cyst. The dermatologist gave me something for that, too, and told me to seek out a colorectal surgeon if what she gave me doesn’t clear the problem up.

    I’m a little worried the other spot is inflammatory breast cancer.

    Most people I’ve told have been supportive. One, predictably. said, “Wanna show me?” I should have known better than to tell that particular individual. *double sigh* At least I know that distancing myself from that particular individual has been the right decision.

    So yeah. That’s what’s going on in these parts.

    Nobody would give me Accutane these days. 25 years ago I was not under any form of psychiatric care.

    Incidentally, in addition to the acne, and the pilonidal cyst, the Accutane was also apparently responsible for the disappearance of at least 5 lumps in my breasts at the time, too.

    I never had them checked, they’d been found in a gyno exam, and mysteriously at the next exam they were gone, a year later.

    I’m trying not to be afraid. But I won’t lie: I am.

    I am more afraid of having to have a potential cyst excised than I am about cancer though, whether I should be or not.

  • on my recent hysterectomy

    on my recent hysterectomy

    Two days shy of three weeks ago, I had a complete hysterectomy. They took everything. While medically justified due to family history, they did find problems with both ovaries in surgery that made it apparent they did indeed need to come out. The decision was made initially because I just wanted to prevent problems as I got older, so the timing of the ovarian problems was just a happy coincidence.

    The first three or four days were the worst, though the physical pain hasn’t been too bad overall. Now I struggle with the not doing too much, as I feel called now to do things like purge my house of unnecessary clutter and potentially rearrange furniture.

    I feel like I should be lamenting the loss of my ability to have more children, but the reality is, I have been mourning that loss of ability for the better part of a decade.

    Our youngest son was a surprise pregnancy and I was so traumatized by that pregnancy that I not only got my tubes tied, I insisted on my husband having his own procedure, too. But after the dust had cleared from those procedures, and after I realized that yes, I can be a successful stay at home mom to toddlers, I regretted that sterilization choice.

    So, I have been mourning the loss of my fertility for most of a decade so it doesn’t feel that jarring now that it is permanently impossible to have more children.

    My husband and I have three beautiful, wonderful, brilliant, kind, and funny boys. I treasure each of them.

    In reality, this whole procedure, assuming the rest of recovery goes smoothly, feels like a big gift to myself, not a loss at all. No more periods; immediate menopause so no more years of the back and forth wondering when menopause will come.

    I’ve been walking a little with Jared most days at the Marina, and yesterday I started doing my lying chest fly exercises that I love to help my chest and back– they are part of my physical therapy exercises and it felt so good to ease back into them. And I got clearance to drive last Thursday, so I have my freedom again.

    Here’s to hoping the remainder of my recovery goes smoothly.