I’ve said this a bunch of times to different people, but I truly think that the key to a happy marriage is separate bathrooms. Sometimes, I think back to our small apartment where we shared one bathroom and get nostalgic feelings. Other times when I look at all the space I have for my girly things, I am very happy to be lucky enough to have my own bathroom. However, there was a period of about 4 – 5 days in early November when I had to go back to sharing with Bri. Needless, to say, he was less than enthused with the occupation. But, this little inconvenience has turned out to be a god send for us.
I was in a rush on day 1 (Nov. 9) of operation “bathroom takeover.” I just grabbed what I could from my shower and got going. When it came time to suds up, darn I forgot my loofah. I thought for a second about running back to my bathroom, but nah, I just needed to get going and my hands work just fine. I scrubbed up, but something felt different – almost like a small marble on my left breast – something I never felt or noticed before. I had more than a feeling that this was not right. I quickly got ready.
I was on the phone with my doctor and mother instantly. By 1 PM, I was in my doctor’s office and the nurse practitioner clearly felt what I felt. She recommended a mammogram and ultrasound. Before I left the parking lot of her office, I was on the phone scheduling those two procedures and had an appointment the following day.
Nov. 10 – I arrived to the Breast Center early to fill out my paper work. I quickly realized that I was the youngest woman in the room. People kept calling me “honey” and “sweetheart.” I didn’t mind – I was anticipating pain and these words kind of helped. I was escorted back to a different room where I changed into a pink gown and left everything else on from the waist down. I was again surrounded by older women at least 20+ years older than me. We were all there for the same reason. Some women were clearly nervous, but I was calm, cool, and confident even though I had a mindset that I would be in excruciating pain. When I went back to have the mammogram, I was pleasantly surprised. I had the nicest technician and although there was discomfort, it was not unbearable pain. The ultrasound was a different story. The tech for the ultra sound was friendly, but not as nice and “grandmotherly” as the previous tech. I also didn’t enjoy the whole process of the procedure. All I could focus on was the wand going over and over my lump – making me more and more aware of its presence in my body. And of course, now there were tears.
Finally, the ultrasound was done and the radiologist came in to speak with me. I was being referred for a biopsy, but no big deal because it is probably just a benign mass. I was totally convinced.
Nov. 11 – Bri and I met at the surgeon’s office for a consultation. She did an exam and talked to us about the procedure. Given my age and no family history of breast cancer, she was 95% certain this would just be a benign tumor. Sounds good to me! Off to schedule the biopsy.
At this point, I had clearly realized that had I not been showering in Bri’s bathroom, that I probably would not have felt my lump. It is really scary to think about how much time could have gone by before I noticed it.