Zed's Bad Day...

[przed]

...or why medical tests suck.


So last week I get a call from my doctor. Which wasn't good, because I hadn't seen him for a while, and wasn't expecting to hear from him at all.

Turns out that the mammogram I had in August showed something they wanted to check out. They didn't think it was anything, but they'd booked me for a biopsy today.

Not fun, but I figure they'll turn me into a human pin cushion, send me home, and tell me it's all fine a week later.

Nope.

They tried to turn me into a human pin cushion. They really did. But I've got this little problem with my right arm. It's got crap mobility, and it couldn't do what they needed it to do to get me in the damn x-ray machine and then stick me with the damn biopsy needle. Two very nice technicians tried for an hour and a half. Repeatedly. A bunch of different ways. And all they succeeded in doing was stiffening up my right shoulder, and ripping the muscles in my neck from the crazy contortions they tried putting me in.

In the end, the very nice doctor decided it wasn't worth it trying to do the biopsy when he was pretty sure they weren't going to hit the right spot. He figures there's a low chance it's malignant (20%, which isn't bad, except that I have this talent at getting things that there are long medical odds on me getting), and the best alternative is to watch closely and see what happens. I'm now on a schedule of mammograms every six months, and if the damn spot grows, they "get aggressive." Which means they cut the damn thing out.

I spent the rest of the day at home with a heating pad on my neck, catching up on Eureka (which is still my happy little show, thank god) and The Mentalist (which I'm now deciding whether to ditch or not because there's not nearly enough Cho being adorable this season!).

I could totally have had a better day. And I now need to not worry about this in six month increments.

Oh joy.

Comments

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

Oh hon. As one who has been through her own share of that crap recently, my heart goes out to you. Increments of worry bite, they really do. But every six months is doable to keep things under control and your mind at ease.

And hey, there are heating pads and Shows to make it better...

HUGE squishy hugs, petal. Take care

[przed.livejournal.com]

I'm mostly trying to stay zen about it all, but it's really a kicker. I'm sure I shall be privately whingeing at you some time in the future.

In the meantime, the heating pad and shows will have to do.

Squishy hugs back.