Tuesday, February 9, 2016

When a negative is a positive...

...and I'm not just talking about pregnancy tests.

My boob scan came back negative! Which means I don't have to get another one (unless I feel something) for five more years!

I know this is something that every woman does or will have to do, but I was so scared. I have no reason to be. I don't have a history of it in my family, and I've never felt anything weird on the girls. But I was still scared.

My appointment was at 7:30am, so I had to get there at 7:15 to register. I was early, of course, because I'm a Wilson, so I was able to register early. We went through all the normal routine registration questions, and then she was like "okay, let me get your bracelet on and you can get changed." She wrapped a hospital bracelet around my wrist and I went into a mild panic attack. What the fuck am I getting myself into? I need a hospital bracelet? Am I checking in? Am I having surgery? I glanced around for an escape route.

I couldn't sneak out, so I was led into another waiting room. Then I was handed a key to my changing room, a pink gown, and I was told to change with the opening of the gown facing the front. I locked myself in the changing room and wondered what would happen if I just never came out. But I wanted to go back to bed, so I took off my sweatshirt and my bra.

Now this is the pathetic part of this whole thing - I loved that pink gown top. It was so soft and comfy. I'm digging it. I wonder if there is somewhere I can go to just buy stuff they make you wear in hospitals, because I'm also a big fan of mesh underwear.

Anyway, after a very quick wait (I didn't even have time to finish one game of Candy Jam), I was summoned by the boob scanner. We went into a room, where I was told to put my titties on the glass. Okay, not really. But the very nice boob scanner took her time and lifted my boobs onto the glass, and then smashed them into pancakes. It wasn't as painful as I thought it was going to be, but it also was not comfortable or fun. Since my boobs are on the large side, I had to get into two positions for her to get the whole thing in the picture. Usually they take two pictures of each boob, but I got four of each because of my oversized knockers. I've always been a bit of an overachiever, you know.

After the photo shoot, the boob scanner told me that my results would be in my online chart the next morning. So after I changed (and tried to steal the gown top, but alas it would not fold up small enough to fit in my purse) I hightailed it out of there.

I wasn't really too concerned about them finding anything, because (get this) after all the scans were done, the boob scanner was telling me all about her life and I was sneaking pics at my pictures, which were all on a screen behind her. I didn't see anything I thought looked weird, so I took that to mean I was fine. Yes, I thought for a hot second that I was smart enough to be a nurse/doctor and decided I was fine.

BUT then I was texting my mom, and she was like "you have nothing to worry about, they only took two pics of each right? When they make you take more, that means they see something."

WTF MOM?! So I told her they took four of each of my boobs and thanks for the panic. So as soon as I got to work this morning, I logged into my medical chart to see if my results were posted yet. They were....and negggggggaaaaativeeeeee was the answer and I am good!

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Boob scans.

On Friday, I took the day off because I needed to go to the girly doctor for my annual. If you know me well (or at all), you know I use humor as a defense mechanism when I am feeling uncomfortable. And since having a man I barely know elbow deep in my hoo-ha area is uncomfortable, I've made it a bit of a game to see how ridiculous I can be. I try to think of the most off the wall questions I can ask him, and also I challenge him to see how quickly he can perform the between-my-legs activities.

However, he immediately shut me down this year by talking to me about serious issues - I need to decide for sure if/when I want kids and how I need to get my first mammogram this year.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Well first off, I don't want to ever birth a child. So I told him that, but he still doesn't believe I know what I want, so I'm supposed to think long and hard about it. And second, my first mammogram is scheduled for Monday. I am terrified. I have never felt anything, but this is still scary.