To all the truly kind and compassionate nurses, medical aids, dental assistants, office receptionists, doctors and dentists of the world... bless you.

The past few months have been a bit difficult for a medical/dental-phobic such as I; I've had terrible dental pain, deep and somewhat painful fillings, my first tooth extraction, and my first root canal. I had my first mammogram, a breast ultrasound, and today I had a du@togram. For each and every one of these appointments I have been a nervous wreck. Yet I have been so lucky that almost all of the above procedures were made bearable by the wonderful medical personnel who have taken care of me.

I amazed at the patience and cheerfulness of the front desk staff at these offices; at the kindness and compassion of the nurses, at the gentleness and skill of the doctors. I wish I could afford to send big bouquets of flowers to them all. Being of modest means at the moment, I have had to settle for saying heartfelt thank you's and handing out compliments left and right. I just hope these people understand how truly they are appreciated.

The du@togram was, just as I was forewarned, uncomfortable but not terribly painful. Having the needle inserted was like a little pinch; then each of the series of mammograms with my boob shot full of dye were about as uncomfortable as a too-tightly-pumped up blood pressure cuff. The whole procedure took about an hour. I had a lovely nurse who held my hand for all the ouchie bits, and patiently explained what was going on each step of the way. She and the other assistant were kind and helpful and the doctor was kick-ass competent at tapping a boob, I must say. All in all, not nearly as horrible as I've been imagining all along.

I wish the news was good, but at least it's not too bad so far. (Knock wood!) There is something in my breast duct that radiologist said looks like a p@pilloma, and he frankly said it could be either benign or malignant. He thinks the surgeon will want to remove the duct and do a biopsy.

I suspect he is right about that... I had barely gotten from the outpatient area to my car after having the procedure when I got a call from my surgeon's office wanting me to make an appointment for next week. If the news were good, I imagine she could have told me over the phone that all is well. So I'm guessing she wants to schedule me for surgery. And actually, I'm kind of hoping she does. Whatever is going on in there I'd like to have it taken out and biopsied so we know for SURE what it is. No sense in leaving it in there to fester in my fertile imagination, if nowhere else.

Good thoughts, wishes, prayers, lighted candles, bead rattling, or what-have-you will be gratefully accepted.

9 felt the need to share

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