I'm not a "look at me" kind of person.  I share about myself because I want YOU to share about you, and to me, friendship is about just that:  sharing of life.  When someone I care about is relaying information or sharing an experience, I'm not the sort of person that will say, "Yeah, but listen to what happened to ME today...".  Instead, I might say something like, "I understand from a certain stand point, because I've been through something similar..." and so on and so on.  Not because I think I understand what someone else is going through, because we're all different ~ but because i like to find as many ways to relate with someone as possible. 

I've had a lot of support lately, from women that are somewhat close to me who have been where I am right now ~ wondering (when allowing the mind to go there), worrying, scheduling, waiting....  It's nice, really.  When we're uncertain about something, we seek to understand better in some way.  When I was going through the Bell's Palsy I did that.  I sought others who could share with me their own experience.  I researched the disorder on all sorts of sites.  I found YouTube videos that those suffering through it had made as a way of reaching out and I appreciated their courage and willingness to putting the ugliness of BP aside, to help others. 

I don't know why this is so hard for me to talk about.  I do want to write about it, explore my feelings and my fears, as well as examine what is more likely and most probable.  And yet, I hesitate.  I worry, that others will think I am overreacting, or looking for attention, or revealing too much.  I also don't wish to worry or upset anyone, especially those closest to me (who understand my good intentions), by having my thoughts and fears wash over onto them. 

::sigh::

I have a private journal (group) that I am part of, but I've never written in it.  I've tried to be a support, to those who DO choose to write.  But for some reason, I want all my words to be here.  So what, if I eat them someday? 

I don't even know for sure when it was that I felt the lump.  I just know that moments before I was to have my yearly exam in early August, I thought it might be worth mentioning. 

She told me not to tell her where, and when she did the exam, she found it on her own (which she later denied, after not having passed along the appropriate information to the hospital and being questioned).  Afterwards, she drew a small diagram on a piece of paper, showing where it was by darkening the area in pen (a new drawing, without the marking, was later placed in my file, making it look as though nothing was there).  She said that it didn't immediately alarm her, but that she would like me to have a mammogram to "keep a watch of it" and rule anything out.  So, before leaving, an appointment was made for the following Thursday. 

Even though no information was passed on as it should have been, the woman performing the mammogram asked to feel my lump ~ which she did (thank God, otherwise I would have felt like a complete ass), mark it and take the appropriate number of slides which is about twice the norm for a routine mammo (which is what I was told, since this was my first one).

I was called back and asked to come in for an ultrasound (which is not uncommon for a lump) on Monday and then the following day will see a surgeon to go over the results and decide what if any action to take.  I was told that I would not leave the day of the ultrasound with any questions left unanswered. 

Okay, so part of me is completely freaking out, when I allow my thoughts to go there....  Which is NOT often, and probably why writing about it is a little difficult.  The unimaginable, put in black and white ~ and I can't even force myself to write any further in that direction.

BUT, the better, smarter part of me says it's nothing.  I have no breast cancer in my family history.  I am not high risk. I feel good, physically, for the most part.  It's the sort of lump that says "cyst" (yes, my lump talks to me..... lol). 

So this is on my mind some lately ~ though not overwhelmingly so.  I will know more by Monday afternoon and I look forward to writing again and telling you how silly I was with all my fears and anxieties.  Even while I am feeling quite positive that it's all good anyway....

::exhaling::

 

P.S.  The Bell's has improved.  I now only deal with a long term affect called Synkinesis , which is when the nerves of the eye and mouth are crossed.  Meaning, when I move my mouth or tighten it in any way, my eye closes.  Cool, huh?

;oP