Updated: Oct 28, 2021
During the last week of June, a series of incidents happened to me that really disturbed my spirit. The scare that I got at the end of that week made the preceding incidents seem miniscule in comparison. I got a call that took my anxiety to another level. I was told that I needed to have an ultrasound and a diagnostic mammogram.
I really wasn’t trying to hear that because I already told myself that I wouldn't have to go through the squashing of the boobs process for another year. Now I'm being told that I have to do it again. Not only do I have to do it again but this one has a different name. I have to have a diagnostic mammogram followed by an ultrasound. I know enough to know that diagnostic means diagnose and if they have to diagnose then they are looking into a problem that they found. (Insert Panic)
The person on the phone couldn't tell me why I needed to have these procedures, nor could the person get me in to have the procedures until a week and a half out. I wanted an appointment that same day!
In this moment I felt so powerless. If someone tells you that something may be wrong with you, instinctively you want to know what it is. This person was telling me, without telling me, that something was wrong with me and the schedule was too full to accommodate my rising anxiety.
There was nothing I could do except wait.
I'm the type of person that would rather do it herself than wait on others. In this case I couldn't. I needed to be patient. It's hard to be patient when you are worried. It's even harder to be patient when you have other things going on in your life simultaneously stressing you.
I had to figure out how to manage what felt like a barrage of disappointments and still fulfill my everyday duties without interruption. As usual I did. I didn't skip a beat. I knew I didn’t have the luxury to allow my emotions to overwhelm me. Although I felt extremely overwhelmed.
The days went by and I kept myself busy and distracted. On the day of my diagnostic exams I prayed that I'd be ok but told God that if I wasn't ok let's get rid of the problem and let me be rewarded with D's on the other side of recovery.
Exposed with one arm out of my hospital gown, I closed my eyes and held my breath upon command. The device squeezed each one of my breast so tightly that it felt like my neck was being sucked into the device with it. Next came the ultrasound. That wasn't bad at all. By the end of the appointment a physician, whom I've never met before, told me my fate.
I had a cyst. It was something to watch but no further action was needed. I unclenched my jaw and exhaled. In that moment I felt like she gave me my entire life back.
I'm sure some of the other women in hospital gowns sitting in the cold waiting room didn't walk out with that diagnosis. I think about that. As Breast Cancer Awareness Month comes to an end, I encourage you to Think Pink past October. Encourage women (and men because they can get it too) to get education (learn how to do a self-exam), screenings (get your mammograms by/at age forty) and support (lean on a support network during your journey). You never think you’ll have to worry about it - until you do.
Vick Breedy ❤️