Understand that, despite the tears, I'm laughing. It's a bitter laugh, weedy, but it is laughter.
The surgery went great--they really have come a long way when it comes to general anesthesia. The mass came out, and four days later, word came back: fibroid. That's right, they're saying it's a uterine fibroid that had just wandered south to the vaginal wall for spits and giggles. That's what they say. I'm hoping that, with time, I'll believe it.
Not saying there wasn't a sense of relief--of course there was. And it lasted exactly TWO DAYS. Two.
Why only two?
Because this morning, bright and early, my GP's office calls to let me know that my mammogram results are back. Back, and not normal. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? The doctor's office said that there was a "nodule" or "suspicious spot." The hospital/radiology department, on the other hand, described it as "an area of unusual density." I have an appointment for "higher level" mammography day after tomorrow.
Poor Tommy had already sounded the "all clear" at work. Guess he should have waited a bit, huh?
I don't have much more of this in me. I need a stretch where I'm just okay. Haven't had one of those in a couple of years. Dreamed the car was dead, too. And the taxes. Damn, the taxes.
Oh, and Tommy is crawling with Lone Star ticks. I swear.
What a mess.
The surgery went great--they really have come a long way when it comes to general anesthesia. The mass came out, and four days later, word came back: fibroid. That's right, they're saying it's a uterine fibroid that had just wandered south to the vaginal wall for spits and giggles. That's what they say. I'm hoping that, with time, I'll believe it.
Not saying there wasn't a sense of relief--of course there was. And it lasted exactly TWO DAYS. Two.
Why only two?
Because this morning, bright and early, my GP's office calls to let me know that my mammogram results are back. Back, and not normal. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? The doctor's office said that there was a "nodule" or "suspicious spot." The hospital/radiology department, on the other hand, described it as "an area of unusual density." I have an appointment for "higher level" mammography day after tomorrow.
Poor Tommy had already sounded the "all clear" at work. Guess he should have waited a bit, huh?
I don't have much more of this in me. I need a stretch where I'm just okay. Haven't had one of those in a couple of years. Dreamed the car was dead, too. And the taxes. Damn, the taxes.
Oh, and Tommy is crawling with Lone Star ticks. I swear.
What a mess.
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