Contrasts

My first annual mammogram took me back to the Top Top Radiologist. Note the contrasts:

Once again I was photographed by the enormous breast clamp. The radiology nurse said breast pain reduces as you age. "How much older do I have to get exactly?" She didn't know but was quite amused. I snapped the photo while she took my pictures to the TTR for her expert opinion.

10 minutes later back she came. "We have to do an ultrasound."  Meek as a lamb I tripped along after her with my coat on , like a secret flasher.

More contrasts.

This is what I could see supine on the bed, as my right breast was painfully examined with the ultrasound device.  On screen the tissue looked greyish, and the cysts were revealed as contrasting black holes. 

The nurse kept apologising as I kept wincing with the pain. I've become a real wuss and I think my constant low level pain makes me more wussy when I experience any additional pain.

"Ooh that doesn't look too good" I say when I see a mucky looking cyst. (I can cast an opinion now that I'm an expert on breast ultrasounds.) So I wasn't surprised when 15 mins later the TTR came in to talk to me. All my old cysts are there, but smaller, she says. She restarts the ultrasound, and goes over the mucky cyst.

 "I'm a little concerned, but it does look like debris, which you're allowed to have. I'll send  the pics and report to the Breast Surgeon Supreme, and he may decide it needs to be drained. But I think it's Ok really."

It's never black and white is it?

Dear Me

"... And you don't know where you stand, and did something pass you by? And if you are dismissed, will you get another try?"  (Obsolete. Sara Groves)

After having my check up with the breast surgeon, I'm now coming up for my next mammogram. I'm not looking forward to it, and I wish they would just do an ultrasound, after all if there is anything suspicious and sinister in my left breast they will do an ultrasound, so why not just skip the boob eating monster and let me have the more gentle sonic device?

And yes, I know it is my right breast... but I seemed to have formed the habit of referring to it as my left breast because I mean the "left behind breast". Right breast now seems to mean there was a 'right' one and a 'wrong' one. Of course, this is all said in my head. I don't talk to people about my breasts, passed  (sic) or present, as really they're not interested, and rightly so. The prosthetic one does a good job of helping me front up to the world and capriciously weathered Hobart is scarf friendly, so cover up of imbalance is easy. It's really when cuddles are needed that the difference is noted.

Today the youngest PS was in heartbroken tears, having failed his sailing class. He has so enjoyed this sport, but they say he doesn't concentrate hard enough, or try consistently, so he can't move on to the next level with all his friends. Try again in a year they said.  We sobbed together in the recliner, me as at other times, shifting the cuddle position because the prosthetic breast feels wrong, and a barrier somehow. "Why are you crying Mom?"

"Because you are" I say conveniently, but really I'm crying because:

• he's hurt and I can't make it better immediately
• failure is a part of life (despite what all the facebook and other mothers will have you believe about their incredibly gifted, always successful children)
• I want him to try again next season and face up to his peers  moving on, and possibly teasing him about failing
• because he has been left behind and they will tease him and we have to equip him with strength, maturity and resilience so he can cope with it all
• I feel like a failure myself as a mother - after all my kids don't win the art prize, or get into the sports teams, (dropping the ball, and  kicking an own goal make up the list of PS's sporting achievements) or win scholarships, or school prizes; or get invited to a birthday party nearly every weekend, or even get invited for a playdate ( we do  nearly all the inviting) nor do they have any particular specialness that would provide an acceptable reason for these things
• half of my chest is flat and my DH doesn't care - yes that's nice but I wish he was at least a little bit upset and disappointed
• I want to have a few days away just me and DH, but we can't afford it and anyway, DH prefers to stay home

Dear me! the side effects of the hormonal treatment are really effective. Along with the common ones of joint pain, bone pain, breast pain, insomnia and constipation; depression is settling in like October rain in Durban. The package says to consult the doctor if depression appears. Hmm. that will have to wait.

There are other reasons for tears:

• my uncle died of lung cancer this week. He was diagnosed just before me, and our treatments overlapped, although continents apart. We will all miss that good, cheerful, simple hearted man who knew about taking pleasure in the small daily things of life.
• a respected and liked ex colleague has found new cancer in her hip and possibly liver.
• so many people are struggling financially, and with disability, extreme anxiety and even psychosis in their children; and I'm not able to help at all.
• the list could go on and on, and persist

I need to do this:

lay down my arms, give up the fight; quiet my heart for a little while. Be still and know that He is God.