F cancer

 Had a scare a few weeks ago. 

I’m fine. 

I thought I was fine which is why I avoided having it checked out for a couple of months. 

Because I’ve kinda turned into that person. 

Or maybe I was always that person. 

But lumps and bumps worry me.

So I went.

My DR was pretty sure the minuscule lumps I felt were just fatty tissue but an ultrasound was scheduled.

And even the ultrasound tech (who isn’t supposed to tell you their thoughts until a radiologist reads the scans. But she took pity on me) also said she thought it was nothing.

So that was two nothings. 

So I moved on because oldest was graduating high school that weekend and the last thing I wanted to do was worry about a nothing. 

Until it was maybe a something. 

The ultrasound was inconclusive and recommended an MRI and/or biopsy. 

So because I’m the girl who got breast cancer twice in the same damned breast, my mind went 100 steps ahead and of course MRI wasn’t until after graduation weekend.

I pushed through my fears, planned for my own demise and expected the worse.

MRI tech was kinda a jackass and kept me in the “tube” for an extra 10 minutes when I was done. When I asked why I was still lying there he said he was waiting for the radiologist to come and look at scans.

Yup. 

I’m in a tube with an IV in me ready to have a full blown panic attack because I’m already convinced my cancer is back. 

I finally get rolled out and he tells me I’m fine. 

He didn’t see anything. 

He was just confirming with the radiologist that he didn’t see anything.

And then I cried in front of the jackass.

And then I got a call from my amazing caring breast surgeon who wanted to see me just to confirm what I felt . She literally squeezed me in between surgeries that day. 

Because she’s that extraordinary. 

And then I cried again. 

Because cancer makes you cry. 

And worrying about cancer makes you cry.

And finding out you don’t have cancer makes you cry.

And yea, I’m 5 years out but cancer is the gift that keeps on giving. 

#fuckcancer