The Call Back

Following a routine mammo, the Merivale Medical Imaging office called to ask me to return to have more "pictures" taken as well as an ultra sound.  The woman on the phone, Margot?? (or some reasonably similar proper noun) repeatedly assured me that usually they would have had my GP call, but her office was closed until September 20th - and they simply couldn't wait.

I don't know about you, but following a mammo, the message, "we can't possibly wait four days for your GP to return" is not very warm and fuzzy.  I got the picture.

I had a lovely mammo tech for both rounds.  Imagine my shock when they wanted to look at the right and not the left!  The left I know from experience is fibrous and sometimes difficult to see clearly.  Having the right re-mammoed was not encouraging.  I was asked to go back into the waiting room while the pictures were rushed over to the radiologist.  When was the last time you had a medical test rushed - while you sat in a four-chair waiting cubby-hole in the most elegant of this year's paperwear?  The hair on my arms was rising while I listened to a 70-something lady complain about how they pulled and tugged her boob.  Joy.

It wasn't long before I was called by the ultra sound tech, a pretty and relatively young lady.  She had me lay down (could I possibly have a short nap???  MMM, their gel is very warm.....) on my back while she propped up my right side, had me slip my right arm out of the paper "GOWN" (hello!!!) and rest it over my head.  For those of you who knew me when playing soccer, you will remember that I took a horrible hit in my last season (I actually got a whiplash injury) and my right shoulder has never been the same.  Resting it over my head is extremely painful.  The tech was as accomodating as possible and the pain shot up and down my arm.  At least that distracted  me from what was going on.  Who knew pain could be a friend?

The US tech was very friendly, but she got progressively more quiet as the exam went on.  By the end she was almost in tears.  "O.K., you're done now.  I'll make sure the results are sent to your doctor today.  Don't worry."  Now hair all over was standing up and alarm bells were ringing.  Today?  Really?  It's that bad?  She's not even in the office until next Tuesday.  Man!

So, that's how I found out.  An ultra sound tech trying to be nice and sort of falling apart.  How did this happen?  I was supposed to get cancer below the waist some time in my late 50's - or never at all.  I eat better than my parents, I was sure that eating and exercise would lower my risk of developing cancer to almost nothing.  Oh wait, does stress play a role?  Well, what difference? - there is no stress in my life that I can't handle after all.  Everyone to whom I've been regularly exposed these past few years is welcoming, warm and friendly - good karma and no toxic energy.  Oh, wait!  Fuck.