This is a three-part story. This is third and final part, I think. Here is a re-cap. I went to my family doctor for my annual physical, she sent me for my bi-annual mammogram, and I thought I was done. Not. I received a call back they ‘found something’ and I had to go in for a re-check. The second part is my re-check. This part is about my biopsy.
My biopsy is scheduled for 8:30 in the morning. To make sure all paper work is in order I was asked to arrive 45 minutes early. This time I opted not to be stoic and asked hubby to be my driver and companion and comforter. Traffic was light and we arrived way early, time to get breakfast for hubby. Hubby is one of those guys that can go from sleep to truck in less that five minutes, breakfast not usually an option.
I was the first appointment of the day. I was asked by the clerk to step over to station #3 to make sure all my paperwork was in order. It was. I was asked, for the record, to repeat my full name and birthday.
Then the clerk said, “I bet you are on a lot of prayer lists.”
How did she know? Did it show?
It must have been the aura of heavenly hosts watching over me that caught her attention.
Next I meet one of the team nurses. The nurse encourages me to remember that she is the good-looking one. Indeed she was and an angel too. I was assigned a locker for my clothing and personal effects. I had left my oversized red purse with hubby.
Hubby hates babysitting my purse.
If I knew that I would have locker with a key, I would have brought the purse with me. I was given a warm, white quilted robe. It was much appreciated in an air-conditioned room.
Next on to a briefing room decorated in muted sage and beige colors with drawings of orchids and tulips on the walls. The nurse, the good-looking one, repeated the whole procedure and asked if I had any questions. Then she had me repeat my full name and birthday and, of course, I had to sign more papers.
The doctor doing the procedure then appeared.
His role was to meet me, bring me words of encouragement, inform me of all the possible side effects, and then assure me that none of them had occurred on his watch.
He then proceeds to autograph my boob (can I say boob in this article?) with a blue Sharpie. The initials were to assure that we were all in agreement on which boob was receiving the biopsy.
I am next escorted into the procedure room. This room has an elevated table covered with mauve colored plastic with a hole in the center. I was offered a step stool and instructed to climb up on the table and lay face down. You can guess what fits into the hole in the center of the table. Who designs this stuff?
I think I now know how a milk cow feels the first time she is hooked up to a milking machine.
The procedure was going along “according to plan” when suddenly I hear the team speaking in quick low tones, something about needing more gauze and then some towels.
Oops, a vein was hit.
Now I am a statistic with a 10-centimeter hematoma. One for the record books.
Afterwards the nurse, the good-looking one, invites hubby in to wait with me. Remind me again why I choose hubby as my designated companion? Was it for comforting words and compassion? Oh wait, I remember now, it was to be the designated driver.
Three hours later I was released with instruction to go home, do minimal physical activity, and to wait three to five working days for the results of the biopsy.
Once out of the office, in the safety of the truck and heading for home, a tear came to my eye. I told hubby I was going to cry now. He said in his most concerned voice “Are you hurting?” I said, “No, I have used up all my bravery. “
The very next afternoon at 1:44 PM I received a call from the lab.
My test was negative.
Maybe I should at start a Bucket list.
Reminder: Have your routine mammograms, not all things are revealed in your monthly exam.