Boobs

There, now I have your attention.

I found out last month that my brother has breast cancer. Yes, guys, it is possible. Rare, but it does happen. What a wake-up call. My only brother, who I've only gotten along with since we've grown up. It's funny how you take things for granted, that the ones you love are always going to be there. Then something like this rears its ugly head and scares the crap out of you, and you realize how important certain people are to you. Even a big brother that did his best to antagonize me endlessly growing up, but now I realize really always did have my back. Thank God, it looks like they got it all and he's going to be fine.

One good thing that came out of this, or funny or ironic if you want to call it that; I promised the hubby that I would get my own mammogram.

Now, ladies, (and gents, I guess I should add) If you've never had one, let me enlighten you. It doesn't hurt as bad as everyone says it does. Until a certain point. She kept getting a bad angle, so she had me stick just the end of my breast between the extremely cold .... I don't know what you call it, I liken it to a George Foreman grill, and they pressed down on the end. OUCH! That part freakin hurt!!!! I kept hearing in my head Mel Brooks from Men in Tights - "We just nip the tip!"
So you have the lady basically doing everything with your breast but throwing it over her shoulder like a napsack, really - leave your inhibitions in the waiting room. Then she says, ok, now we're going to stick your entire breast in, but we can't get anything else in there, so stick your butt out and back away. Yeah, you're picturing it correctly. My boob is stuck in the Foreman grill, flat as a pancake, and I'm backed up like I'm running away from my breast. Lovely. After she does the scans, she leaves the room to make sure they came out, and you're done. Usually. Like I said, she got bad angles, so she kept coming back in and doing more. Like 4 times. By this time, I'm picturing my breasts will end up totally deflated and hanging to my knees like sad little punctured balloons.

And guess what - they found something! Ha ha, right? Boy, things just keep getting better and better! Last week, I woke up one morning with the weirdest feeling, like some gigantic shoe was about to drop. I hate those feelings, cause I've had them before, and inevitably, I'm wrong. Which, is good I guess, but... Anyway, I had this feeling of waiting, for what I didn't know, but then the phone rings, and it's my doc's office, saying the mammo came back with 'something' and they recommended another scan and ultrasound.

What a long week.

So, today I go back. First off, the doc is an hour late, due to the weather. So I'm laying on the table for most of this hour, dozing, then frantically shaking myself awake so I can keep holding onto the gown that threatens to fall open and show anyone who happens to be walking by!

He finally gets there, I've never met him before, but he's this tiny little Pakistani guy with a bad wig and TONS of cologne. He walks in the door, doesn't say a word about my having to wait, and says, "So, you ready?"

Sure, you sweet talker you.

"Ok," he says, "We doing a pelvic, right?"

Uh...no? At least not on me, you're not.

I correct him, and he says, "Oh, right. Lay down."

Ok, it takes him 10 minutes to get the ultrasound machine ready, he's fiddling around with the controls like he's never seen it before. I lay back, he tells me to uncover, and I SWEAR he looks at it for like a minute! before he turns back to the machine. He actually clapped his hands and rubbed them together, like he was sitting down to a feast!

Go ahead dude, bask in their magnificence, just get the job done.

So he squirts that goo crap on the ... well, I don't know what you call that either, but we'll call it his magic wand. (he he, no jokes, please) And proceeds to push it around on my oobie.

For a half hour.

Then he finally says, "This is difficult to find. You are...it's tough to see...I can't.."

"Here, can you hold it up for me?"

Like I'm not embarrassed enough at this point, now I have to hold it up myself? What kind of service is this??

So he looks some more, then he finally finds it. I can see on the screen it's about the size of a 50 cent piece, and I'm thinking, that can't be good. And he says, "Do you know what a breast mouse is?"

Breast mouse?

All these comical things are running through my head, and I'm trying not to laugh, but come on. I ask him what it is, and he says, it's a fibrous tumor that can't be felt with the fingers, because it basically slides around. Ok, I can see it now, my obit - she was killed by a breast mouse. Hilarious.

He says, "It looks kind of..benign."

Kind of benign? Gee, I feel loads better! Thanks, dude. And you're kind of retarded.

Well, finally we get done, and he says he's not concerned about it, (Oh, YOU are not concerned. Thanks for that!) and that he will send a report to my usual doc. I love the waiting game. Like you have nothing better to do than wait. I swear they do that on purpose.

So, yeah, it's been a crappy couple of weeks. I'm staying positive though. My brother's going to be ok. I'm losing the best job in the world, but I figure God has something better lined up. Whatever these tests turn out to be, will be; I mean, it looks like it's going to be nothing, but whatever it is, I'll deal with it. I have to. Got too much crap going on! LOL! So don't worry, the Trixie ain't going anywhere for a long time!