Routine Screening

When I was 34, I had a mammogram. They like to call these "baseline" mammograms.  It's supposed to set you up for a lifetime of better, easier, happier mammograms.  I went willingly.  In fact, I practically bounced to the appointment.

I was very skinny at the time, and very chipper. It was a positive, proactive experience.  The tech complimented me on my weight loss and my easy to read boobs and everything was just wonderful.  

For me. 



My friend Jodi, who went with me, got a call back.  Nothing came of it, thank God, but it still complicated things and caused her anxiety.  But I was not focused on Jodi.  I was all about my glowing health and vitality and my positive, proactive stance.


At some point, I made some sort of decision that I would NOT get breast cancer, probably during my rather frightful phrase of poorly researched pop psychology and self-blame disguised as personal growth.  And then I promptly forgot about it.

When I graduated with my Master's in Social Work in May, I made a big list of things I would do. One of them was: Make GP appointment.  Another was: Make Ob/GYN appt.  I did both.  I was impressed with myself, in the way you are when you have convinced yourself that you are totally and completely healthy and have no need of physicians at all, and doing this is just an exercise in self-care.  My appointments were startlingly normal.  I had masses of blood work done, and two clinical breast exams, and all the tests came back showing that I was unbelievably healthy.  I felt very proud of myself for all this. I was doing the right thing.  

I did have a little script for a mammogram, and one for BRCA testing.  So of course I scheduled a mammogram, a routine mammogram, with confidence.  I wanted to do it right away, during the summer, when my work schedule was known.  Alas, the insurance company insisted I wait until my 40th birthday, since I had already had my baseline mammogram.
 So I waited.  And because this was still a positive, proactive thing, I dragged my friend (and boss) Lisa along. It was an outing! The breast center, attached to a medical center, was cheery and festooned with pink for October, breast cancer awareness month (aka breast cancer merchandising month). Ignoring my inward groan at the pink washing, and swallowing down any snark,  I filled out the paperwork, did my high risk screening, and waited.  Lisa went back, got her mammogram, and was finished.  My waiting was rewarded with the tag of "high risk" and I was taken to a fancy machine, called a tomosynthesis.  I passed the women waiting in the other room, the one called Diagnostic Screening, and I thought This is a bit nerve wracking but at least I'm not there.


We went to work, my friend (boss) and I.  An hour later, she had her results in her email.  I had nothing.  We joked.  Not good, she said.  I laughed. 


And then my new normal began.