Thursday, November 13, 2008

More Boob Talk.

Yes, today's my follow-up mammogram. Did you remember? I'd pretty much forgotten about it until yeseterday morning, and then I started worrying a little. And now, I'm worrying a lot. I'm carrying it in my neck and my shoulders and my jaw. I have the worst headache in recent memory. My hands are shaking.

In my brain I know there's probably nothing to be nervous about. They told me that they're really just "making sure it's nothing".

But let me remind you what happened the last time I went for what I thought was "nothing": A routine follow-up ultrasound (this mammo's actually a sonogram), that lasted four hours and culminated with the perinatalogist telling me I Didn't Have To Have This Baby Who Might Not Survive Anyway. It was by far the most surreal, almost out-of-body experience I've ever had, and it was the beginning of what became the most heart-wrenching six months of my life, to date.

The words Don't Worry do not work on This Girl. Because once you've gotten the shock of your life when you thought you were going in for Nothing, Nothing is ever Nothing ever again. I can't think of anything as Nothing. Tell me there's nothing to worry about? Fuck you, I'll think of Something to worry about. If there's even the slightest possibility that Nothing could be Something, and there always is, I'm going to focus and stew and allow myself to be consumed by my thoughts. I just don't want to be blindsided like I was that other time, because that really fuckin sucked.

To this day R wishes he had been there with me for that nightmare. I know he would have been if he could have - and he got there as soon as he could, in what I refer to as his Knight In Shining Armor moment - but I talked him out of it because I'd had a follow-up ultrasound before with Beebie and it turned out to actually be nothing. I went in thinking I'd be in and out in twenty minutes and they'd tell me everything was perfect. How could I have known anything was that wrong with Pie?

So I try to prepare myself mentally for Worst Case Scenarios until they get funny. Kinda like how I was pissed about the whole Lubaba thing and the more pissed off I got, the funnier the story got? Eventually my thoughts become so ridiculous they're laughable, and eventually I crack myself and R up with them. For example, what if there's a power outage while my boob's in the machine? I'll give you a minute to get that visual out of your head.

I combat everything dark with humor (read my entire blog if you don't believe me). Why does it surprise people to hear that so many comedians battle depression? I can kinda look danger in the eye, once I've made myself laugh about it first. Of course, it's not always appropriate, but when has that ever stopped me from anything?

For example, how hilarious would it be for me to need a mastectomy after I just dropped $200 on those kickass new bras I've been talking about for a month now? Funny, right? Rememember how comically ironic I thought it was when my parents' dog died in the car on the way home after dropping $60 at the groomer's? That's the kind of sick sense of humor I have. And you bitches love me, dontcha? Yeeeeeaah, ya do.

You'll be glad to know that I'm not going to this Mammogram thing alone. Rip has graciously offered to go with me so I'll have someone I can actually say the words "Dude, I'm so totally freaked out right know..." to out loud instead of just hearing it on a constant loop through my head. He's not going in the Nekkid Boobie Frankenstein Switch Room or anything, but he'll be there when I get done, and that's so cool. Thanks, man.

I'm wearing black eyeliner and non-waterproof mascara. If they give me something to cry about, I'm going Balls The Fuck OUT.

And P.S. - I'm packing a flask.

8 comments:

Kevin said...

You can freak the fuck out if you need to - Just know that your friends are here for you when you do.

Kevin C said...

Man, that's just not a mindset I understand at all. But hey, whatever gets you through, right? Especially if it can give us the funny blog posts. Because it's all about us, isn't it?

Penny Karma said...

I should probably clarify to My Vast Readership that there are, in fact, two Kevins on my speed dial now.

Penny Karma said...

Kevin C, think about someone trying to convince you that God exists. Because of a specific experience you've had, no matter what anyone says, it won't change your mind.

Trying to convince me that there's Nothing to worry about after what I went through with Pie is a similar exercise in futility.

SiressYorkie said...

You know I understand about the going in for a routine check thing and coming out completely different. It wasn't that long ago for me. The memory can come back fresh as yesterday at any point in your life.

But here's something you need to keep in mind: early detection skills are getting better and better for breast cancers and/or more benign cysts, lumps, etc. And there is an excellent chance that if something IS afoot, they can take care of it way better than they could even 5 years ago. And way sooner.

It's the people who don't check, who don't do the mammogram thing, who just think, Meh, ain't no big thang that get handed the silver platter of doom. You're doing everything you're supposed to be doing when you need to be doing it. Beyond that is beyond your control.

And yes, I know what it's like to have something change your life in an instant and know you'll never be the same again.

sayvil said...

Thinking good thoughts for you. I had a mammogram today too.

Penny Karma said...

I know you know, Love. :)

Zonda said...

Hoping it's all ok! I'm here iffin you needeth me! Hehehe I love that you are packing a flask too!