This week marked the first anniversary of the day I was diagnosed with breast cancer. To celebrate I had a mammogram.
Woo hoo! Party!!
Ok, so maybe it wasn’t all fun and games. But while the mammogram equipment still resembles a medieval torture device, the vise like grip of the machine is nothing compared to the grip that fear had on my imagination while waiting for the results.
I think of myself as generally very optimistic but, in between thoughts of “all is well”, visions of cancerous lumps danced in my head. Those visions loomed even larger when the tech came into the waiting room and said that more pictures were needed.
Part of my brain was glad that the radiologist was being careful to get all the correct angles… Continue reading
