Hypochondriosis is not the right word for it but let's just say that I have an elevated sense of awareness and insecurity about ailments (big and small) and their likelihood to kill me in the near future.
In the delicate post-partum period following the birth of my youngest son, I started to see issues related to my body with relative hysteria. It wasn't that there weren't actual symptoms or even actual issues because through thorough (and I mean thorough) investigation, genuine maladies were uncovered. But the prevailing issue was anxiety and this impacted greatly any sense of reassurance that would come with normal test results. Results from two CT scans, one MRI, multiple neck ultrasounds, dozens of blood tests, more ultrasounds, x-rays, three fine needle aspiration biopsies and the list goes on.
And then you notice progress. What once was a state of paralyzed terror had evolved into a moderate reaction to symptoms. A response that might actually be considered similar to that of a normal person. I found a lump in my breast in the early summer and did as I always do when I find anything a notch up from a hang nail, and I booked an appointment with my GP. I should say that I did have the experience as a tween of watching my adoptive mother battle and eventually lose the fight with breast cancer so I was a bit worked up waiting to see my doctor. She wasn't alarmed but expressed concern and booked me in for a mammogram.
The appointment took some months to get and when I followed my usual protocol of calling incessantly to seek a cancellation, I was met with the reality that women don't typically cancel mammograms at the leading breast cancer screening hospital in the country. So I, like many other women waited. I just waited. This may not seem like an act of heroism to you but I assure you that it represents significant progress. Further evidence of this betterment is that when they found something on that mammogram and my doctor called to tell me that they wanted to do an ultrasound and a possible biopsy, I was still able to eat my lunch.
So today when I arrived for this follow up appointment at what I think is the greatest places to go when there's a question about your breasts: The Princess Margaret Hospital, I felt pretty calm and only started sweating when they called my name. In I went to the darkened room, got globbed with warm gel and had my breast probed. After one technician, and two radiologists all stared and stared at the tiny black and white screen the last man holding the probe looked at me and said "You're breasts are perfectly normal." I prefer to think of them as "small and mighty" or "unique" but if it's a radiologist talking, that's the sexiest thing he could have possibly said.
Turns out I have milk ducts that are enlarged by recent years of continuous breast feeding and that has created the dense, lumpy node that showed up on the mammogram. But all of this is really to say that with breast cancer awareness month ahead and many heros doing the incredible Weekend to End Breast Cancer Walk this weekend, take a moment and think about your breasts, the facilities that service them and the thousands of women who are praying right now that they'll hear something reassuring about their "normal" breasts.
