Skip to main content

The Power of Prayer, Positive Thinking, and Dancing


I think if it turns out to be BC (and I don’t mean Birth Control), I will fly out to NC and get my hair cut with you. (Text message from my sister, Jennifer, before I left for my appointment.)

I was ready. Ready to face whatever the biopsy would show. Today, the day of my biopsy, my aunt had a double mastectomy. I put my pink sparkly tassels on and headed out the door knowing I family and friends were praying for me and sending positive vibes my way. Some were even dancing the lump away.
See the white mass on the top part of the films? Meet my lump.
I was taken to the changing room and told I needed to remove my tassels. Apparently, they might get tangled in the machine. Upon entering the room where the procedure was to be done, I saw pictures of my diagnostic mammogram. I saw the lump. I found it all quite fascinating. I looked for the table where the procedure would take place. All the research I had done on stereotactic biopsies showed the patient laying on a table with her boob hanging through a hole. I wasn’t so lucky. I got to sit in a chair and have the paddles of a mammography machine squishing down on me again.
The second position. I am not 'shackled' at the moment, but I think you get the picture.
The two radiologists positioned my breast under the paddle with a hole for the needle and took several pictures. My breast was in a vice. There was no way I could move if I wanted to. I sat shackled to the machine while the ladies looked at the picture on the computer. They came back and repositioned my breast. Back to the computer to take a picture and check the results. (They were trying to get the perfect picture to guide the needle to the lump.) This was repeated several times before it was decided to squish my boob in a different direction. Again, my breast was locked into the machine while they took their pictures.

Even sitting across the room, I could tell there was something going on. They were having a conversation in hushed tones. “I need to call the radiologist that will be doing the procedure. I will be right back.” The other radiologist (the one that did my two previous mammograms) stayed with me and took my picture with the machine. I told her I was documenting my life for my blog. I told her this was the year I jumped and learned how to fly. To love life. To live it to its fullest.
There is no mass. The white you see is scar tissue.
“It’s gone. The radiologist can’t find it either. He wants you to come back in six months just to be sure.” A smile lit up my face.

“Does this happen very often?” I asked.

“No, it doesn’t,” she replied. “It is a good thing. Go get changed and enjoy your day.”

No biopsy. Couldn’t find the lump. Sorry….no bald head, tats, or wigs. (Text message to my sister, Jennifer, upon learning about the disappearing lump.)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing ...
2 comments
Read more

The Challenge of Five

Living alone is easy. Add one more person to the equation and it becomes a bit more challenging – especially when that person is a 13 year old. But in time, we figured it out. Somewhere in there, Beatrice joined us. With Thanksgiving came the joy of the five of us together for the week. And then reality set in as Tony and Sana began their trek back to New Hampshire. Our household of two was now a household of three as Sean made himself a home with us.   For the first five years of Sean’s life it was just he and I. How difficult could it be to have my 22-year-old son living with me again? A mother couldn’t ask for a better son. He is loving, kind, intelligent, and hard-working. He has grown into a fine young man who has lived on his own for the past three years. He has his own way of doing things.   I have my way of doing things. Needless to say, the two clash a bit. I tend to go with the flow and do things (supper, adventures, etc) as the mood strikes. He likes to plan eve...
2 comments
Read more

I Got the Call!

I began the day a bit down in the dumps. (As is very evident from the earlier blog entry of the day.) I was missing my family. Wondering about the risk we took. Uncertain how it would all work out. My brother, Jamie, insisted that Patti and I join his family for a Braves game. He bought us $1 tickets and told us to get to Turner Field. The great thing about Atlanta Braves games on a hot Sunday afternoon is that the turn-out is not very good. We followed Jamie toward his seats on the third base line and sat in a couple of empty ones about 20 rows back. By the end of the game, I was in the first row! Apparently it was too hot for many of the fans. The Braves trounced the Dodgers, 13-1. (Newly added to my bucket list: get to as many of the major league baseball parks as possible. I have been to three this summer alone!) Upon returning ‘home’ I decided to check out the possibility of more jobs. Curiosity led me to Manchester’s website. (Manchester is about 30 minutes away from whe...
3 comments
Read more