I felt oddly detached when delivering the bad news to my mother. My husband offered to make the calls to
Hello, my old friend How long’s it been, fifteen years? I’ll see you next year My baseline mammogram was done when I was 35. I just lost a close friend to breast cancer who was only a couple of years older than me. She found a lump during a self-exam and put off getting it checked by doctors for six months. By then it had metastasize into her lymph nodes. Even after very aggressive chemo-therapy and a bone marrow transplant, she lived less than a year longer. She left two kids and her newly wedded husband. It pissed me off that she waited. If the cancer was caught earlier, she had a great chance of surviving. It also scared the bejeebus out of me. There is a long history of cancer in the women of my family, and I didn’t want to be added to that list. In the 15 years since that first screening, I haven’t missed a date.
You may remember me mentioning that I’m turning 50 this year. With great age, comes great responsibility. While I’m not quite old enough for AARP, at this advanced phase of my life I am expected to submit participate in a list of various and sundry screenings and tests that in medieval times would be considered torture. One such test will be conducted on Wednesday, and with the entirety of Tuesday set aside to prep for this test (I was actually told it would be better for me to stay close to home all day), I thought I’d bore you with the TMI details early. I’ll no doubt be sitting a lot on Tuesday, but I won’t want to carry my laptop with me into the reading room. For this particular test, I’ve already had a baseline, so I know what to expect. Tuesday morning and evening I have to ingest a sodium/potassium/magnesium sulfate solution, along with as much clear liquids
Red silk kimono Glass plates stand at the ready The squishing begins Went in for my annual mammogram/ultrasound this week. I’ve been a client at the same radiology clinic for years. The staff there is wonderful. They use heating pads to warm the glass plates, offer patients silk kimonos to cover up, have warm wet wipes to remove u/s gel, and will bring your shoes to you if you forget them in the exam room. Several years ago, a routine ultrasound discovered a small lump. A large-bore biopsy was performed and found to be benign. To help keep tabs on the lump, the surgeon inserted a marker. All this time I thought that it was the shape and size of a large BB. I found out during this recent exam the marker is actually shaped like the looped cancer ribbon. Appropriate, don’t you agree? Have you had your mammogram yet? * Haiku Friday is hosted by Lou at LouCeeL. Clip
I am apparently quickly becoming a woman “of a certain age.” This is my birthday week… yeah, I am going to celebrate all stinkin’ week, that’s how I roll. Yesterday I turned 49, and I’ve got a lot going on to celebrate – not my birth, but my life. Monday I went in for my yearly physical. My doctor gave me a copy of this magazine. Yes, she actually told me it would only be a few years before I was dealing with… well, you know… *whispers* menopause. My response was a resounding, “bring it on!” My body temp is about two degrees below normal all the time. I am incessantly cold. I embrace the idea of hot flashes and night sweats. During the summer I keep going behind the Mister and bumping up the settings on the thermostat, trying to keep it warmer inside the house. And, I still wear fuzzy wool socks and sweats. Winter months find me
Rest in peace, good and true friend… Last night we said good-bye to a cherished member of our family. Our