My New Friend THE CYST

My cat Edgar is 11.  He’s become a bit crusty as the years have gone by.  The other day I noticed he had a rather substantial growth on the very top of his head.  My husband, not to be deterred by such things, messed with it enough to determine that it was completely filled with fluid.  It comes and goes periodically, although the why in that is to be determined.  Then, there is my mother.  She recently had a growth that developed on her temple.  It was causing her headaches so she promptly went to her primary care physician who then referred her to a dermatologist.

“No need to be alarmed,” he stated as he numbed the mass before slicing it off with a flick of one wrist and then slathering some vaseline on the abused area.

“But what causes such a thing to just randomly start to grow?” My mother inquired.

He shrugged his shoulders.  “That’s just what happens when go get old,” he nonchalantly replied.

Ouch, I thought.  The truth can really hurt, I thought next.  Is that what's going to happen to me? I thought third.   Random growths appearing like unwanted friends on my body wanting to be the center of my attention as they congratulate me on a life well lived.  I surely hope not.

I was wrong of course.

A month ago I did my yearly mammogram screening.  I always feel like such an adult when I do the difficult, but not necessarily required adult things.  I had both breasts slammed into a machine, squished beyond recognition, and then waited the week or so for the results.

Usually, my breasts pass with flying colors and I'm rather proud of the girls for not causing me any problems, but that was not this year. Unfortunately, they saw something.  Not a large something, but a something nonetheless.  Back I went to be poked, prodded, looked at with what I can only hope was a critical eye or two.  

“You have a cyst,” my doctor informed me.  “Nothing to be too concerned about, however…”  (Don’t you hate the howevers) "Most cysts are fluid sacks.  Yours looks to be more solid."

It’s happening, I couldn’t help but to think.  The old age thing where growths suddenly appear internally and then externally with nary an explanation besides the fact that you are just growing old.

“We can biopsy it for your peace of mind or you can wait six months and we can recheck that it has not grown any larger.”

I chose the former option.

It’s weird to think I have a thing living inside of me.  It looks circular, and looks to be the blackest of black holes.

Thus began my endless amount of research, my endless amount of buying vitamins for breast health, and my endless amount of searching reddit for what an ultra sound breast biopsy will look and feel like.

“I was screaming in pain,” one woman posted.

“The worst experience of my life, and that includes giving birth,” someone else wrote.

I could feel my heart rate increase; I could feel my palms become clammy and my underarms sweaty.

I have found that sometimes you can endure pain (like sitting for an eight hour tattoo) and other times you are really just not in the mood.  I don’t want to be poked, exposed, examined.  I can just envision the whole terrible ordeal and I can assure you with 100 percent certainty that I don’t want to do any of it.

But…

There is a time in all of our lives that we have to pull our big girl panties over our bum.  Face the doctors, the clicking machines, the needles, the loose fitting hospital gowns, the cold, sterile rooms, and just do those hard things whether or not your brain is screaming in protest.  I’m being a brat, I couldn’t help think as my husband asked if I wanted to get brunch afterwards and I snarled out a loud NO like I was some sort of beast that’s lived under a bridge these many years.

I will fast forward through the specifics of the procedure and let you know that I worried for nothing.  It didn’t actually hurt beside a very mild prick and burning sensation and the whole procedure took at the most 10 minutes.

“I really don’t think that you have anything to worry about,” my doctor sweetly said, half ponytail hanging long down her back.  “But we will get your results in about a week and then we will know for sure.”

If it’s benign the growth will just live in me I suppose until my body decides that enough is finally enough and it dissolves into the rest of my body, which is another weird thing to think about.

I've named my cyst Carolyn, if you were wondering and it’s yet to be determined if she is a nice friend to have or one of those bitches that just takes and takes from you and then is no where to be found when you need to do some of that taking for once.  I really hope that she’s of the nice variety and we can live together in this world peacefully.  Maybe she’s some sort of angel protecting me from the inside out and I like feeling that way rather than the much darker alternative.  

I will keep you posted as to the results.  Fingers crossed Carolyn is just one of those zany friends who makes a few crazy appearances before disappearing without a trace.

Note: I received the results the next day, which caused my heart to skip more than a few beats. Carolyn is a nice friend to have is the conclusion the doctor made to me over the phone and she will continue being that way until she decides to leave me alone and perhaps inhabit someone else's breast for awhile.