The Zadge’s heart swelled beneath her troublesome left boob with all the kind words you all left her in the comments and in texts and in emails and phone calls. As the Zadge said to the Sista as they drove to the biopsy today, “Wow. There are a lot of really wonderful people out there.” Thank you, thank you, thank you.
So the Zadge decided to go to bed early last night (which for her means 10:30 p.m.) so she would feel fresh for the impending Boob Invasion. But guess who had a different idea? Yep,
the worst dog on the planet Harry. Harry decided that, although he pooped right before the Zadge went to bed, he needed to go again at 4:15 a.m. In the snow. In the 30 degree cold. With Zadge in her underwear. Chasing Harry around the snow covered yard as he tried to – and succeeded in – eating his and Bugs’ poopsicles from a few hours earlier.
Fighting cancer will be easier than living with this hound.
Anyhoo, with the biopsy scheduled for noon, the Zadge hit the gym first, to try and sweat out some of her escalating anxiety. An hour later, she was sweaty but not in any way relaxed. So she headed home and promptly popped a Xanax. Nothing. Fifteen minutes later, she popped another. Nothing.
The Zadge’s body has always been very resistent to drugs. She can drink three cups of coffee and immediately fall asleep. But now, she needed the damn drugs to work and they weren’t. So she turned to the Sista and said, “Let’s do this” and off they went.
Well, three hours and a medical roller coaster of a ride later, the Zadge has good news and she has bad news.
The good news is that they got the Zadge all set up for her “stereotactic biopsy” which involves lying face down on a table with a big hole cut in the middle where you put your boob while you stare at the two foot long needle-gun they are going to shoot into your little B cup boob. The Zadge imagined the needle coming out the back of her body it was so long. Then they compress your boob like in a mammogram and take these super fancy x-rays that show the pesky little cancer things at an uber-high resolution.
Then the doctor came in and exclaimed, “Oh! I don’t think we need to do this biopsy – look, they aren’t clustered like we thought! They are spread all over (which apparently is not anything to worry about).” ”Seriously?!” the Zadge replied. ”Yep! Now that we can see everything this closely, you don’t have anything indicating malignancy. We’ll just do an ultrasound to make sure we aren’t missing anything.”
The Zadge almost shat her pants with glee. The nurse went out and told the Sista, who walked into the operating room crying with happiness.
But now the bad news. When the doc did the ultrasound, she confirmed that there was nothing of concern in the left boob. ”Let’s just look at the right one too, while we’re here.”
Well, guess what? The doc found some suspicious looking tissue in the right boob. ”I think we should do a biopsy on that.”
Crash! The sound of the Zadge’s hopes hitting the ground. She thought about saying, “Oh just cut the two muther f#$kers off right now and put in some implants and let’s just move on.” But that would probably be rash, no?
So they did the biopsy – a different kind of biopsy than the original one she was supposed to have, which was totally painless, by the way – and withdrew all these tissue samples to send to the lab. And now the Zadge has to wait until Monday afternoon to learn if she now has cancer in her right boob.