Mammogram

Tuesday morning I went in for my annual mammogram. It was the usual unusualness. They always assume it will be one normal mammo, but it inevitably leads to extra shots, ultrasounds followed by even more mammo. It was with intimate consciousness that I reflected on the last 3 experiences. When I found my lump 3 years ago it was the first sense of fear I had in 20 years. By nature I am the antithesis of fear in body and mind. There I lay probing my breast over and over the strawberry sized lump in an attempt to knead out the collection that would not move. I went from breast to breast feeling and re-feeling to make sure the intruder was really there. After twenty minutes of insanity I finally lay limp, tears streaming my face, defeated. I didn't tell anyone for a week. In fact I told myself we were not going to think about it. My mind carefully tucked away the fear behind the fog of denial. Each day I seemed to gain back control until that Monday with no warning, I broke. Crawling into bed with Keith I lay there sobbing. He rolled over worried as I am not a crier. I revealed I had a lump to which he immediately searched for the offender. Shoulders slumped at his discovery and he held me while I shook out the fear. After calling for the appointment we both sat in a stupor. It's like nothing you can explain sitting with no forward moving thoughts. Just sitting. I went in the next day walking in a  surreal out of body awareness. I dressed and ascended the table keenly aware of the nervous energy coming off the nurse. She treated me like glass. As the doctor came in he asked some questions and began probing. He confirmed the size and I began to cry again. It was ridiculous. Both doctor and nurse stopped and turned to me. With tenderness he told me that we should not worry until we get the results, patting my leg. The next day I went into the Allison Women's Imaging Center for my first mammogram. The receptionist could not hide her surprise at my age. I sat waiting, fidgeting. As they called me back I couldn't help but notice the demeanor of my technician. She knew my fear. Her actions were sure, deliberate and deeply kind. Her words were soft and reassuring. As would be the case from here on out they would require an ultrasound. The room was dark and quiet. So much so that I had difficulty quieting my thoughts. It must have been apparent to the tech because upon wrapping it up she squeezed my hand and told me I had nothing to worry about. She had asked permission to allay my fears and the radiologist had consented. It was a moment of intense relief. I walked out to the car in a daze. I sat holding the wheel trying to piece the events together. I prayed, thanking my Heavenly Father for His help and comfort, thanking Him for putting these kind people in my path today and just thanking Him. In stark contrast; Tuesday I went in and was still treated different for being young but it was lost on me. My smile and easy demeanor allowed for casual conversation with the techs. There was even laughing which I supremely prefer to crying. They still had the confused look after the ultrasound but said everything was in order and they would see me in 6 months. I walked out trying to remember where I parked, another task off my chore list. The relief was there but muted. I still gave a prayer of gratitude as my life is always in His hands, but my fear was gone.....or maybe just sleeping lightly. I think on my kids and sometimes it stabs through, but I tuck it back in it's place until next time.