Two years ago, I had my first mammogram. I was 41 and it was time to get monitored for breast cancer like everyone over 40 does. I had to go for a second one because they had trouble reading the first one. I remember a wave of fear cane over me as I sat in the waiting room.
What if there is something wrong? Here I am, alone, and there is no one here with me if I get bad news. Thank goodness everything was fine & I went along with my day. I asked if I should get any genetic testing since my aunt had breast cancer. The doctor said I should be fine. Nope, no need.
This morning I returned to the same waiting room. Same dressing gowns, same Keurig serving nature’s nectar – coffee! I sat down to fill out the paperwork and it looked like this:
As I started to fill it out, the tears began rolling down my cheeks. I thought about the difference 2 years can make – filling up the form with new family history, now put a “rush” on meeting with a geneticist, sitting alone in the room, but knowing I could text Mr T for moral support.
The test was very painful this year but I got through it. Now I wait.
Speaking of Mr T, I let him down tonight. We were supposed to have dinner & a sleepover, but I just couldn’t move today. Between a scorching headache and my stress, I just couldn’t get out of bed to drive over there after a long nap. I know he’s disappointed in me and I feel terrible. I just couldn’t push myself this time. I know he’ll eventually read this post so please know I love you & I’m sorry.
I spoke with mom, dad, and Ken earlier. They were having corned beef sandwiches and chilling at home. I also felt guilty for not being there. I flaked on all my obligations this weekend. But, instead, I needed to focus on my self care. Sleep, decompression. Hopefully everyone will forgive me this time around.
