One of the reasons I took my blogging hiatus is that I knew that Mr. P and I had a battery of medical tests to undergo due to our ever increasing age, and with my colleague dying of cancer and my friend's diagnosis being very poor, I was not in a good headspace to relay what was going on with us. Today I will tell one of those stories now that my brain is functioning a bit more clearly and because the time for my shameless begging for money has finally arrived....
On Mr. P's birthday I went in for my first mammogram. It was relatively uneventful, and the tech told me NOT to freak out if they called me in for more tests because they need a solid baseline and the radiologists really want to get to know my breasts.
I leave, feeling pretty okay about it, and proceed to make a lasagna and Boston cream pie (FROM SCRATCH) for Mr. P's birthday dinner.
That was all on a Tuesday. On Thursday I get a call that the mammogram was abnormal for my right breast and I needed to come in for some spot compression tests. I slowly begin the freak out. I google. I read extensively, and for the MOST part all indicators point towards 'need more baseline info', so while I am nervous, I am not FUHreaking, just regular vanilla freaking.
The next Tuesday I go admit myself into the hospital with bracelet and all to get my spot tests, which were about 30 more pictures of the right breast. The whole time the tech is chit chat chatting about the 5K we BOTH did the Saturday before. SURELY if she sees a ginormous lump she wouldn't be just chitty chatty about her super annoying kid, right? After she is done, she takes the pictures to the doctor, and then comes back and says, "Well, come with me, he would like you to have an ultrasound." gulp.
So they get me situated and my boob all lubed up and the tech says to me, "Let's see if we can find this thing."
fuck. there is something to find. fuck me. I am really glad we bought the car so that I have reliable transportation back and forth to the medical school a few hours away. I am glad my sister lives here so that she can help Mr. P take care of me while I die. I am SO glad that I have been running so that my strength is somewhat built up to withstand all the treatments. fuck. fuck.
The tech focuses on something that I am going cross-eyed trying to see and then she gets up and leaves the room to show the doctor and says he will come and talk to me. What feels like an eternity, while I am cataloguing everything in my mind that I need to tell Mr. P about how I feel about him and our life together, and where our money is, and how he will have to be for our kids, the doctor comes in to tell me...
NO cancer. NO nothing actually. There was a lymph node he wanted a closer look at, but it was perfectly normal. Clean bill of health, see you next year.
I never had cancer, but in my mind I did for 10 minutes and it was excruciating. I thought I could imagine what my colleague's family had been through, and I realize that I felt the extreme tippy tippy top of the iceberg. So, because one day I may actually get the news I was petrifying of receiving, or because one of you might, or because ANYone might, I am participating in Relay for Life on our campus, not this weekend, but next. We have a team and will be walking and walking to raise money. So, what I am now asking of all of you, is help me? HELP me, HELP you. (shameless stealing from that movie with Cuba Gooding and he plays sports and has an agent, with Tom Cruise?)
So here is the link to my Relay "page":
Note the picture of the kid on my page is NOT me or anyone I even know, I just can not figure out how to change it. Back to begging: I know everyone is feeling the pinch, BUT, if you want to donate and can afford a $10 donation, let me know via email or comment and I will enter you into a drawing to win an awesome item from
If you win the drawing, I will buy you something from this site (in the $40 ish range). I picked this as a prize because I am working very hard with running and working out to get healthier to lower my chances of getting cancer, or increasing my odds of beating cancer, and I want all of you to have some super snazzy pants/shorts/capris to get healthy in too!