Yesterday morning I had a date with a boob man.
I had a surgical biopsy on my right breast, which really turned out to be more of a lumpectomy as the surgeon removed two walnut-size masses that he said were severe fibrocystic disease. I’ll go back December 10 for the definitive lab results, but I feel pretty confident that I am OK. I’m sure I’d ever have a “normal” mammogram until the fibrocystic area in question was taken out, so I’m glad to have almost all of this behind me and out of me. I keep reminding myself to be thankful the radiologists were proactive in suggesting I go ahead and have surgery.
When they started prepping me the nurse wrote in big black letters the word “yes” on my right boob. You know, just in case they couldn’t figure that out from my charts. I also got a kick of eavesdropping on the little old Southern old lady next door in the prep area. When the anesthesiologist asked her if she’d ever had surgery she replied, “Which one? I can tell you about the time I swallered a corsage pin.”
This was an outpatient procedure and yesterday evening the girls were yes ma’aming and no ma’aming me and I love you mommying me and, if that wasn’t enough to throughly kiss this mama’s booty and make me envision the girls bringing me Bon Bons and pushing me around in a wheelchair when I’m 90, Miss A willingly peed in the potty all by herself! The hubby has also been most awesome and my mother watched Miss C yesterday because she was running a fever and could not go to school. We just won’t talk about the fact that I gave her cold and cough medicine on an empty stomach and not once, but twice, on the way to my mom’s the hubby had to stop the car so Miss C could throw up. The hubby and I had to laugh when a nurse asked if we had had a pleasant drive in to the hospital. Actually by then I considered just checking myself in to the hospital so I could get a little peace and quiet, not to mention room service.
I felt pretty out of it yesterday and tried to get up around 5 while the hubby was out with the girls and got knocked down with a wave of major nausea, due to the anesthesia I presume. I am feeling good today, though, just sore.
Between now and my follow up appointment I’ll keep busy to keep my mind off my boob—probably Christmas shopping (I got matched up with the awesome Miss Debunot herself in her Christmas gift exchange) and consuming copious amounts of chocolate and spiked eggnog. Tonight the girls are staying with my inlaws so hubby and I can have a little break.
I kind of wish my surgeon could have helped make things, I don’t know, perkier, while he was in there. Otherwise I think Santa will be filling mama’s stocking with Wonderbras.