So here’s the boobie update. Good news, I get to keep ’em both! No cancer growing around in there – thank Garth, because that would have sucked and then this blog would have been even more detailed about the color of my poop and other stuff that you’d rather not know about. So shew, you’re SAFE, Reader!
The thing is, I still have to have surgery. I’m still scratching my head about how NO CANCER can mean, “Well, get yourself some surgery anyway.” Preventative surgery. There’s one little spot, in the boobie calcification part, that they just don’t like the looks of, so they’re going to put me under, get out the melon baller and scoop it out.
Better to scoop now than chemo later. And the lump was nothing, too, by the way. Two separate spots, one boobie. But it was sure much ado about nothing.
Then? They think I’m going to get mammograms every 6 months. I don’t think so, no-siree. Once a year, max. I’m not getting extra radiation for what turned out to be nothing, so they can stress me the fuck out every 6 months.
I was perfectly happy (and healthy-boobied) prior to any mammograms. I don’t think that sticking needles around in there and extracting parts of my body have done it any favors. I kept reminding the doctor, and my boobs, that they are for fun-and-games only, and are NOT to be taken seriously. I’m proud of my boobs for holding up their end of the bargain.