The warranty on my lady bits has run out...I think my particular model only came with one good for 35 years because at that age I began to fall apart.
Three years ago this month I found a lump in my left breast. Nothing big, just a weird little lump hiding down on the underside of my boob. I went into the doctor and she could feel it too. Great. After an inconclusive ultrasound I was sent for my very first ever mammogram. Aces. As if my boobs weren't flat enough after nursing three kids, let's squoosh them some more. And there it was, a little white spot looking back at me from the tech's computer screen. I didn't even need her to point it out to me, I could see it from across the room. Superb. So, over the next three weeks I had more ultrasounds, more mammograms and a failed biopsy. It was finally determined that it was not considered cancerous and I would just need yearly mammograms to keep an eye on it. Sweet...and this time I really mean it.
Later that same year I decided to finally have an uterine ablation. It was either that or a hysterectomy and I chose the lesser of the two evils. For those that don't know what it is, it's a procedure that cauterizes the inside of your uterus into charred barren wasteland. Like the post-apocylptic set of The Road or The Book of Eli. Ok, right here would be a perfect spot for some kind of a joke about Viggo Mortinsen or Denzel Washington being inside my uterus, but I digress. I'll just lob that one up there and let you hit it out of the park in you mind. Anyway, I know the doc used some thing more high tech than this but I just always pictured him with a blow torch and welding mask. Oh, also, if there happen to be any guys reading this...right now would be the time when you should bow your head and thank God for giving you your manly bits and not lady bits. Seriously, your upkeep & maintenance program is so much better than ours. And you can pee standing up.
Fast forward to last Friday and my yearly mammogram. Same old, same old...15 minutes and a pink carnation later I was on to other errands and the rest of my day. It didn't cross my mind again until the hospital called Tuesday and said I needed to come back in because they had found something 'abnormal' in my right breast. But, she said, "you have young, dense breasts so it can be hard to diagnose"... wait, did she just compliment my boobs in the same sentence as telling me they were abnormal? Um, thanks, I think. Maybe I'll use that next time I'm trying to flirt with my husband: "Hey babe, get a load of my dense breasts." Hubba hubba.
This morning I went back to the imaging department to have more squooshing done. After the doc reviewed the images he determined that it was just normal breast tissue and no need for any further testing. Quite good news for my boobies. And good news for my husband too...since he has grown rather fond of them and I've always said that if they ever do find something serious I want them taken off. Really...I'm not attached to them. They have done their job: I caught myself a husband and they have fed three kids. Now their main goal is to just offset my hips and make me look somewhat proportional. Without them I strikingly resemblance a pear...or a raindrop...or something else that is much heavier on the bottom than the top.
So, it's all good for now. I'll keep up on the maintenance programs for all my lady bits and hope they don't all go defective at once. And even with the expired warranties, I still got flirted with at the grocery store on my way home today...well played, defective boobies, well played.
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