And so endeth the most frightening week of my life. Last Saturday night I discovered a large lump in my right breast, which I swear was a fairly recent appearance. Straight to my GP on Monday; she didn't say much other than to refer me to a women's clinic for mammogram and ultrasound. The earliest I could make a booking for was 1.30pm today (and thank god I got in that soon - I've heard of people waiting weeks for an appointment!)
All week I've worried and fretted about this. It's been on my mind so much that I've been waking up in the wee smalls worrying about it. And like a hole in a tooth that your tongue has to probe, I kept feeling the lump, manipulating it, wondering if it was any bigger/smaller than it was the previous day.
So there I am at the clinic today. I don't think I've ever been that eager to get my top off before! Just wanted answers. The mammogram was a lot less uncomfortable than I'd been led to believe but it will never catch on as a widespread hobby. Next was the ultrasound; techie obviously doesn't write slash as there was no warming of the lube first! Nearly crying with relief when the tech announced that the lump was in fact a cyst. A queen-sized cyst, mind, as big as a quail egg, and with many smaller cysts paying court to it, but nothing more sinister than that. No treatment required, although if it bothered me or was painful or uncomfortable they could stick a needle in it to draw the fluid out. Umm... no, I'm good, I'll pass on that thanks.