Lovely Lady Lumps
Thursday was unlike any other. It was Give Local Louisville, and Smoketown Family Wellness Center raised almost $90,000 in donations. I was high from all the excitement of the day and was starting my crash back to reality.
But I didn’t expect to crash so hard.
As I switched positions on the couch from sitting to stomach down, I noticed something uncomfortable move around in my chest. While the theme of Sex and The City streamed in the background (because I was binging the show), I gave myself a breast exam. I raised my right arm, felt around, and there it was. It had been playing hide-and-seek for I don’t know how long, and I finally found it, slightly south right of my nipple. Hello there, sizable lump. Not-so-nice to meet you.
I immediately ran upstairs to tell my husband, cry in his arms and feel his strength. His optimism is astounding, and I love him so much for it. He held me as I cried, prayed with me and kissed my tear stained lips. Ya’ll, I’m lucky!
What some of you may not know – this isn’t my first time finding a lump in my right lovely-lady-lump. Several years ago, I found one just slightly north of the new one. After an ultrasound, it was deemed a mere cyst. One-third genes, one-third birth control and another third ridiculous amounts of coffee, it seems I’ve created a recipe for disaster. I’m believing and hoping that this one will be the same. It will just be a friend for Betty, who’s been so lonely recently. I’m calling my new lump “Don”, so Betty and Don can be together again (thanks to “Meghan” – nod to my Mad Men friends).
In all seriousness, the fear and worry that accompanies something like this is inevitable. The imagination thrives on it. Soon you’re wondering who your husband will marry when your gone and what you’ll look like without hair. It’s sick, but it’s human. I’m choosing positivity. I’m choosing to say no to dwelling. Of course this is said after about five crying fits.
Friday wasn’t any better. I woke in the morning somber and numb. I knew I had to deal with the insurance company. That coupled with my tendency for worrying, I wasn’t looking forward to starting my day. Warning to all my friends- AVOID HMOs AT ALL COSTS! This process has been much more difficult than it should have been. The doctor on my file as the primary care physician was no longer taking patients, and thus I heard my first “no” for the day. I decided to investigate my favorite nurse practitioner, but after three phone calls, I realized she didn’t accept my insurance (and I don’t blame her). One call after another, I received rejection after rejection.
Journeying through this jungle of insurance is dark and lonely, especially when you have two lumps as your only friends. I felt like an uncoordinated Tarzan swinging from one disappointing branch to another, until finally I found one that was secure, one that wouldn’t let me fall. Denisa Parker, I’m thankful for your availability. I’m thankful that you can help lead me down the path of knowledge. Tomorrow, I’ll be one step closer to knowing the truth.
Sleeping will be difficult tonight. Anxiety has already created a swarm of butterflies in my stomach that are guaranteed a home for at least 12 more hours. I know tomorrow won’t bring full knowledge. From my last experience, I know that she’ll confirm that Don exists and will connect me to someone who can complete an ultrasound of the area. THEN I’ll know its shape, I’ll get to say hi and hopefully everything will be OK.
I’m nervous. I’m scared. I’m faithful and hopeful. I know that my God, my husband, my family and my friends are always there. This is just another trial. I continue to repeat this mantra to myself, hoping it helps. It does sometimes.
I’ll continue to keep you all posted. Please try to think of me, send a little prayer around 7:30 am. I’m sure everything will be fine. I’m sure it’s just another cyst. I’m sure there is nothing to cause worry. I’m faithful it is nothing.