I have an appointment next month to get a lump removed.
I have had three doctors tell me it’s nothing to worry about so I’m trying my best not to be a drama queen about it.
It’s a challenge. My mom died of cancer at 51. Her mom died of cancer at 36. Three of my grandmother’s sisters died of cancer.
My surgeon tells me it’s quite common for women to have fatty tissue that just grows a little too quickly. In fact, he says, if it were him, he’d probably just leave the lump alone.
When my mom found her first lump, she thought it was just a swollen lymph node and her doctor sent her for a biopsy just as a precaution. Six months later she was dead. Every time I feel my lump, I don’t hear the words of my reassuring doctor. I feel the chill of losing my mom because of a lump that soon became several lumps.
Intellectually I am sure the trio of doctors are right. This little glob of fat is nothing to worry about.
But I expect I’ll be better at taking their advice once I don’t have to encounter the lump every day.
Meantime, I’ve officially entered middle age by having my first mammogram. Because if this lump has any thoughts of inviting friends to replace him, I’m not interested in being a good hostess.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEe_eraFWWs]
I don’t find anything about my lump to be lovely … it’s going away.
—–
Did you like this post?
Share it on Facebook / Twitter / Digg / StumbleUpon / Reddit / Fark / Del.icio.us