I love breasts, this is probably my most “man like” personality trait.

I notice them. Always.

I like small medium and large and quite frankly I think they are all fabulous. I like them when they are young and perky or old and well used. I’ve always thought laying your head on a huge pillow of breasts must be nice.

(Clarification Point – I don’t think about them constantly unlike some boys / men but when I am around new breasts I always take notice. I never think about breasts sexually and no, I don’t fancy women just in case you are wondering.)

My breasts are nothing special, they are on the small side even.  Yet they have served there biological purpose,  sustaining our three to each ones first birthday. Most important  they are mine and we have shared good times and I like them just the way they are.

By this stage you must be wondering where on earth this is going….

Well my dear,  today it’s my turn to be anxious about the big BC.

In Australia once you turn 40 you are able to have breast screening every two years for the rest of your life. It’s one of the very clever decent things our health care system offers. It helps stop the carnage of women dying as their breasts become the enemy.

Two weeks ago after my bi annual visit I got a surprise call back. At first they said the picture wasn’t clear and this is pretty common.

Second visit, take two on the BIG SQUEEZE, I  was waiting, waiting and waiting for what started to seem like an extra long wait. No problem they say, go home, see you in two years!

So big surprise when I was called for a third time to say, “Hmm we would like to see you back to check your left twin to make sure”

(For all the male readers who wonder about the mysteries of breast screening, go to the work bench, pop you “manhood” into the vice grip and squeeze tight, really tight, tight to the point of my eyes are watering tight and then hold for  15 seconds. Whilst holding make sure you hold your breath and don’t move one little bit.
Got it?
Repeat process several times just to be sure.)

 

Today is my call back day. 

First observations.

The process is all very organised and efficient. Phone call, letter, reminder to make sure your there. Yep thanks for that  I won’t forget to turn up I promise.

When your anxious – I can’t lie, this has been on my mind quite a bit for the past week – how super sensitive you become to things around you. My daughter called me out on being “short” these past few days

Bugger – the sign on the wall says most women who get diagnosed with breast cancer do not have a family history. What! – that was my main line of defense!

The waiting room is divided into two, testosterone free or not. It didn’t occur to me to invite my significant other to this process but most women had brought company. I am basically believing bad shit won’t happen to me at this stage.

Step one was the  meet and greet then new photo shoot of the left side only.

How amazing is our breast care in this country! The offending breast, my left twin has a few tiny white dots that take tiny to a new level. My breasts are small to start off  with and only via  a magnified screen that is making the lefty the size of a huge dinner plate, could I see what all the fuss was about!

Next step ultra sound with the first doctor, who kept saying “we will work together” whilst she preformed an ultra sound on both girls. This off course makes me feel better, because if I have to work I sure as hell don’t want to be working on my own.

Next another new doctor who gave me  a physical examination – it took all my self control not to laugh out loud A. because it tickles and B. (note I find humour at the most inappropriate times), that this male doctor was the first guy to feel one of the sisters other than my Captain in the past 25 years.

The next step is a whole new level of discomfort

Here I get to lie on my side, rolling slightly forward and for the next twenty minutes holding my arms in awkward “twister” like angles. My left breast is then popped in place before being squished into a  permanent grip.

” What Kind Of Grip?” - imagine a hairy creep pinching your boob hard (this has happened) and now think that pinch is your entire breast and up to your armpit pinch and then hold this pinch for the next 20 minutes give or take a move here or there.

While all this is happening three to four people look carefully at the screen and get to know your breast far better than you ever will.

Words like tiny, milky, calcification, needle angle and try this position were repeated often.

However my favourite word of the day was Benign. 

So unlike my beautiful friend Tracey (see first blog entry)  I have dodged this bullet. In six months I go back for a review but most likely to confirm the all clear to a long and healthy life to sail the seas.

This is good because as much as I like others, my girls are my particular favourite.

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  1. the Miss

    Dear Miss Di,

    Oh to be as lucky as we are and for so many reasons. To have good friends makes us both very rich indeed.

    Thank you for your kind words and I know that your own war with the boobs that change has given you good, bad and no hair days. Your comment humbles me and I say thank you once more.

    Life is infectious is it not! Enjoy xxx

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