News About My Twin

They actually gave me a hospital bracelet when I went in for the bibopsy. Evidence that I was an admitted patient, if only for 45 minutes. Bibopsy was Thursday. They called me Friday afternoon with the results of the test.

It's benign! It's a fibro-adenoma, as they suspected. And this fibro-adenoma is apparently harmless and needs no treatment. I really can't express how much of a load off my mind that is. Thanks for thoughts and prayers that were sent my way. I really appreciate it.

The Bibopsy

I went in to the get my bibopsy today. First, I'd just like to say --people who work at breast care centers (which is where I went for my bibopsy) are INCREDIBLY nice. They treat you like they are just delighted to see you and then they cradle you in sweetness. Seriously. I wonder how they keep it up with every patient who walks in. But I like it.

So, I changed into the very awkward gown that they give you at this place (I wore it for the mammogram too). It's like any hospital gown except the tie is in the front, thus risk of exposure is from a VERY different angle. Sitting in their waiting room, I am in danger of exposing myself to random other people who may be in the waiting room pretty much the entire time. This subsequently makes it very hard for me to focus on whatever article I am reading in whatever random magazine I picked up.  

So, for this bibopsy they wanted four tissue samples. I got to watch everything on an ultrasound screen, which I was riveted by. They took this needle and kinda punched at the mass. It mechanically sounded like a powered stapler and I imagine it functioned like a harpoon-equipped whole punch. It punched out a piece of tissue in the mass and then it punched back out of the mass with said tissue. It didn't hurt. But it kind of reverberated in my chest. I wasn't expecting it to be quite that violent of a process (violent in the most gentle sense of the word). 

After the doctor got all the tissue she wanted, she put a piece of metal in there, to mark that they've "been there". They have promised me repeatedly that this little piece of titanium will not set off metal detectors. Heaven forbid if this causes me to get felt up every time I go to the airport. 

They patched me up afterwards  (it was only a 1/8 inch incision so they essentially put a band-aid on it that I have to wear for a week). Then they said I needed to keep ice on it for 15 minutes of every hour for the next day --- at which point, I said, "I'm sorry. You want me to put an ice pack where?"

It made it better when they prescribed that I eat chocolate and watch movies for the rest of the night.

The real comedy was AFTER. I had to stick the ice pack in my bra and then return to work because I had  training session with a guy from the finance dept. on our financial software. And while the ice pack is somewhat small, it's large enough that it makes the girls a little, uh,.. well, you can imagine. I wasn't quite sure what to do about the situation, so I hoped that my clothes (loose shirt and cardigan) made that general area relatively inconspicuous so that said guy from finance would take no notice. Yes. You read that right. I knowingly walked into a meeting with a man who didn't know me from Adam, with sigificantly disproportionate girls, and said nothing, Now that I think back on this, I picture this thing having happened on an episode of the Carol Burnett show or I Love Lucy. Sometimes, life is just funny.

"Yes. Inside the lump was my twin."

Today, my life reminded me of this scene. And it appears they have found my twin.

Truth be told, I went in for a mammogram. It was not as awful as I've heard it would be, but I will concede that I was technically uncomfortable. Who really ENJOYS having their boobs compressed into pancakes? ... I didn't think so.

I notices something amiss back in December. I kind of figured it was nothing. A mass. But nothing. Web MD said so, so that's pretty reliable right? Just kidding.  Considering my family history, and despite my high confidence in diagnosing myself over the internet, I thought it would be prudent to have a professional make a final determination before I cease thinking about it completely.

My first appointment resulted in the doctor also being pretty sure it's nothing, but "considering my family history" they'll ask for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound.

So I was in there today with all their imaging equipment... and the technician... and the doctor. I was lying on a table, looking around at drapery meant to give me privacy. There were pretty, serene pictures on the wall juxtaposed against a very clinical setting. And suddenly, it felt a little different. I wasn't really worried about it before. But now, I'm thinking, "I have a mass". They keep referring to my "mass". They keep investigating this "mass". Compounded by my surroundings it hits me: "I do not think it means what you think it means." (name that movie)

As I sat there I was wondering, "Exactly how often should I anticipate having this view?" I wanted to tell them that their pretty panels on the ceiling with the garden scenery are a nice gesture, but I'm not fooled. "You have failed to mentally transport me to anything that could be confused with a vacation destination."

So far, everyone else agrees that they're pretty sure it's nothing. "Awesome. I was 99% it was nothing too." Sadly, the doctor lacks my level of confidence and only gave me a 98% but, all things considered, I'll happily take it. And I have decided to rename the mass "my twin".

I am writing this post not so much to warn you all that I might be dying (I seriously doubt it), and more so because I'm totally bemused at how something that seemed relatively benign (Admit it. I'm hilarious) suddenly became disturbing and alarming just because professionals acknowledging what I already knew and subsequently made me sit in a medical examination room.

I go for the bibopsy in a couple weeks, so we can all be a little more certain about our suspicions. I'll let you know how it goes -- whether it be my evil twin or just a sweet little companion I get to carry around forever. Maybe they will discover it to has teeth. And a spinal cord. ;)

Recent Beauty Quirks & Obsessions

Believe it or not, this is  a picture of my nails. My nail obsession over the past several months (whenever I actually do my nails ) is to paint my right ring finger a different color. Trendy? Maybe. Incredibly fun? For sure. Serviceable to my tendency of not being able to choose between colors? You better believe it.

I also gave myself a fashion New Year's Resolution: to wear at least one accessory every day. I always think that people who wear accessories look very put together. And yet, I often find that I don't want to wear them because I feel like they can be distracting or overwhelming. But really, how can one accessory be overwhelming? I'm one month in and so far so good. This resolution might be a keeper.

The Dead Man's Cell Phone That Almost Was

I was really looking forward to getting back into the theater after I finished my MBA. I needed a for fun hobby, ya know? Reclaim some of the fun and whimsy that I used to have. But I couldn't commit to much while we were job searching.

We've been settled down in West Bend for a couple months, so I started to look for play auditions. And I found one! In my home town! So I went.

They were reading for a play I'd never heard of before -- "Dead Man's Cell Phone". As I watched the scenes unfold during the auditions, I thought it was quite funny, but overall I was surprised it was as edgy as it was. We are still in West Bend, WI, right? Well, it's just an audition. I'll just have fun with it.

Then the director called and he offered me the lead role. Seriously?! I've never been a lead role before. It was surreal. Of course, I didn't lose myself completely. I told him I had some reservations with the script. But he said he was editing the script somewhat to take the edge off.

So, I came in for a reading. And I thought the changes might make it ok enough to do the play. So, I said yes.

But there were a couple of things that never seemed quite resolved. For one thing, my character kisses a couple of people. Not surprisingly, this fact seems to cause my husband a fair amount of discomfort. For another thing, I still have a line where I drop several 4 letter words, even WITH editing. And there's a monologue about sex from another character. It's not SUPER explicit. But it's not PG either.

Safe to say, it's not a family play. And I kept thinking  back to Elder Oaks' talk, Good Better, Best. My first thought in reconciling the concerns I had about the script, was to think, "It's not that bad." And there it was. Not that bad. The best I could say for it was "it's not that bad."

I was in denial for a little while -- four days and one rehearsal, to be exact. And then I came to my senses and called the director this morning to tell him I couldn't do it. He was gracious enough to offer to edit some more, but I knew that there was no amount of editing that was going to make this play content I could do and really apply Elder Oaks' counsel.

I'm not gonna lie. I'm a little heart-broken. And I'm not really sure my standards are as rigid and high as I just set them. But they always say you're supposed to experiment. So this time, I'm experimenting with erring on the side of caution. So long, lead role. So long doing a play this spring, now that I've gone and missed all the other auditions.

This seems like a very petty thing. And yet, it really kinda hurts. As life does, I guess. To be sure, this will find it's way into a YW lesson in my near future.