I made a routine trip to the doctor today and it reminded me of a not-so-routine-trip a few years ago.
See, I had scheduled a mammogram after finding a lump and was very apprehensive about the appointment. For the record, this is a common thing for me because my boobs are like 2 fun-sized bags of Reese’s Pieces. I’ve been berated for years now by one nurse who claims this odd condition is a result of my coffee addiction. I’m a dedicated junkie though so NO, I won’t be dropping that habit any time soon. Plus, this particular nurse has a wonderful Jamaican accent so I sort of like to hear her bitch at me anyway.
This lump felt different though and a 10-foot-deep pit of dread had settled in my stomach. I walked in for my mammogram that day CONVINCED bad news awaited. In my mind, bagpipes were playing as I disrobed and not the fun, drunk kind you hear on St. Patrick’s Day. My favorite nurse was there and she gave me the usual lecture, but even SHE seemed a bit reserved. The doctor decided he should get a better look with the (deep breath here) sonogram, just to be safe. Continue reading →