At the risk of sounding like the biggest whiner in the whole world, allow me to tell you what happened to my appointment today.
The midwife mentioned a lump in my breast and said she wanted me to get a mammogram and ultrasound on it. I told her I had two years ago, and the ultrasound tech couldn't even find anything to take pictures of, and the radiologist told me to come back when I was 40. She asked if I had had a surgeon look at the films. I admitted that the doctor had told me to do that, but that I had not because things had gotten really freaking complicated, and what with the info from the tech and the radiologist, I hadn't lost any sleep about it.
But she wants me to get new films and to actually show them to a surgeon this time. It's probably nothing (thanks to the old fibrocystic breast disease that runs in my family, it's kind of hard to tell), but we need to check it out. It's just ... now? Argh. I have never spent more time at the doctor's office in my life, and it feels like I have less free time every day anyway.
But it will be better to get it done and over with.
I just ...
*flails*
*deep breathes*
OK, it will be all right. I just need to get a calendar I can carry around with me to keep track of all this stuff or something.
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