Thursday, September 11, 2014
I have had a few things crowding my mind as of late. The change of the seasons brings about a hustle of new things to mark on the calendar. Events, get-togethers, appointments...the like. School is in full bloom. Kids are getting used to the hum drum of the day to day. But a couple of things have been lying right under the edge. Erica failed her glucose screening and had to go back in a week for more extensive testing to find out if she was going to struggle with gestational diabetes. I thought, "Well, great! that is the last thing she needs with this pregnancy." I did pray about this but it still just kind of laid there. And I just stuck it under a blanket of anxiousness. Where it got all warm and cozy. So today she got her results and they were negative. Yay!! Praise the Lord. I got to throw that little hidden nugget of stuff away. But the other thing was bigger. If this test for Erica was hidden under a blanket in the corner of my mind it occupied a twin bed. The other thing....a California king. I failed my mammogram. When they called me back from the original test I just kind of stared at the phone and thought "What?" We didn't get a good resolution honey....we need you to come back. I made the appointment for a week later. Third floor this time. I didn't say anything to anyone for several days. I just tucked it into its' big bed and covered it with a homemade patchwork quilt of anxiety, worry and (gulp) fear. That pattern by the way is straight out of the pit, baby. It's ugly too. I did tell my mama. She wanted to go with me and I told her no. I did tell my friend Kelley the day before I went for the tests. She wanted to go with me and again I said no. So yesterday I went. I go in the building and take the elevator up to the third floor. This is called The Breast Center. All breasts all the time. Nothing else is seen here. I sign in and go the waiting area on the right. It is empty except one lone girl of about 30. The area to the left is full. All ladies older than 65. Most had someone with them. I was alone. So I watched. All these faces. Some were set as flint. Some were scared. Most were weary. Waiting. They call my name. Insurance....of course. They call my name again. A nice lady about my age walks me into a little room. Hands me a bag and tells me to put my blouse and bra in the bag and come with her. The next room was where they do the mammogram that is more in depth. She tells me not to be nervous. This will be tight. A lot of pressure here sweetie. Don't breathe. Don't move. In the background though her radio was on and it was on a Christian radio station I listen too. I was in there for about 15 minutes and every single song I heard was about grace. I told her I liked her music choice. she smiled and said "Me too. Keeps me grounded." I needed those words. Grounded. Grace. By the way did you know that breasts can turn?? Me neither. I do now. Escorted to the next waiting room where me and three other ladies all sit in our little pink capes that tie in the front. The looks on these faces? Fear. We all smiled at one another but there it was....fear. I flipped through three People magazines. Prince George is so cute. George Clooney is so handsome. Blah, blah, blah. She calls my name. Different lady. this one tells me that the radiologist sees something honey so we need to do a sonogram. She tells me not to worry. This is common and it is probably nothing. In this exam room you get to lie down. Warm jelly on your breast. Then the familiar sonogram wand. Only this time they are not seeking a baby. I lay there thinking....can she see it?? Will she tell me?? I can just hear her, "Why this is the biggest lump ever! Let me call everyone in to see this!!" In my mind I have my funeral planned. I got the music planned...on and on. In reality I look out the window at nothing. I see clouds and sky but I "see" nothing. My heart is beating fast and hard. I am sure she can see it on the screen because I am also sure my breast is moving to the rhythm of my heart. I am ... anxious. I have uncovered the beast on the big bed in my mind. It is a monster. Back to the waiting room. I am alone. A bit later the sonographer comes out and says, "Just you and me out here??" She sits down and gives me the news. The Dr. says you are all clear honey. Clear. She said a lot of her stuff too. Menopause changes tissue. Something about something. But I really just heard...Clear. I go back in a year to the old regular mammogram machine. Because I am clear. Grace trumps anxious....every single time.