In the Beginning...
It was a normal Friday in Kosovo. The schizophrenic weather couldn't damper my already foul mood. I hadn't eaten in two days per the doctor's instructions and was ready to get these tests over with. There is a history of colon cancer in my family so I don't really mind the whole colonoscopy process. I can't say that I enjoy it, but you do what you have to do.
Since I was driving to Macedonia anyway I scheduled my annual mammogram at the same time and headed out.
Not to be overly personal, but I hit menopause super early. Which, when you aren't having to worry about monthly hormonal nightmares and breast swelling makes having mammograms a breeze!
Easy breezy, lemon squeezy.
When she finished, the nurse sent me into the ultrasound room - she told me this is the normal procedure in Macedonia. No big deal. I waited on the table for yhe doctor to secretly dip her hands into ice water so she could complete the exam.
And that's when she showed me the mass.
Wait, what?
I've been so obsessed about the colonoscopy it never crossed my mind that I might have breast cancer. But there it was.
"I won't name it until after the biopsy, which we need to schedule right away. Words have power and J don't want you to panic. Don't worry about it."
I'm 95% certain this is cancer, but don't worry about it.
A few days later I am back sitting in the hospital for an MRI and a biopsy. Not worrying about it, because I am 100% in denial despite the fact that you can feel the mass. It's surreal. And I casually try to convince myself it's nothing even though the doctor's face betrays her comforting words.
Doctors should be required to take acting classes.
I am going to lose my house if I can't work full time. Everything I have is invested in that house.
Maybe I should get a second opinion. Nah, too soon.
Will Tricare cover this? Where am I gonna find the money for the co-pay?
Why on earth are you worrying about money? Money isn't what's important.
I wonder if it's possible to get good lasagna in Macedonia.
The doctor tells me again, with the same lack of believability, not to worry. To wait for the results. She sends me on my way and moves on to the next patient - a grandma surrounded by about 30 of her friends and relatives. I have no idea who she is or what she's facing, but I envy her just a tiny bit for all the love that surrounds her.
And then I get in the car and head out in search of lasagna.
It was a normal Friday in Kosovo. The schizophrenic weather couldn't damper my already foul mood. I hadn't eaten in two days per the doctor's instructions and was ready to get these tests over with. There is a history of colon cancer in my family so I don't really mind the whole colonoscopy process. I can't say that I enjoy it, but you do what you have to do.
Since I was driving to Macedonia anyway I scheduled my annual mammogram at the same time and headed out.
Not to be overly personal, but I hit menopause super early. Which, when you aren't having to worry about monthly hormonal nightmares and breast swelling makes having mammograms a breeze!
Easy breezy, lemon squeezy.
When she finished, the nurse sent me into the ultrasound room - she told me this is the normal procedure in Macedonia. No big deal. I waited on the table for yhe doctor to secretly dip her hands into ice water so she could complete the exam.
And that's when she showed me the mass.
Wait, what?
I've been so obsessed about the colonoscopy it never crossed my mind that I might have breast cancer. But there it was.
"I won't name it until after the biopsy, which we need to schedule right away. Words have power and J don't want you to panic. Don't worry about it."
I'm 95% certain this is cancer, but don't worry about it.
A few days later I am back sitting in the hospital for an MRI and a biopsy. Not worrying about it, because I am 100% in denial despite the fact that you can feel the mass. It's surreal. And I casually try to convince myself it's nothing even though the doctor's face betrays her comforting words.
Doctors should be required to take acting classes.
I am going to lose my house if I can't work full time. Everything I have is invested in that house.
Maybe I should get a second opinion. Nah, too soon.
Will Tricare cover this? Where am I gonna find the money for the co-pay?
Why on earth are you worrying about money? Money isn't what's important.
I wonder if it's possible to get good lasagna in Macedonia.
The doctor tells me again, with the same lack of believability, not to worry. To wait for the results. She sends me on my way and moves on to the next patient - a grandma surrounded by about 30 of her friends and relatives. I have no idea who she is or what she's facing, but I envy her just a tiny bit for all the love that surrounds her.
And then I get in the car and head out in search of lasagna.
I am praying for you Knikki. You are not facing cancer alone.
ReplyDeleteWell if you need someone to talk to get ahold of Tammy, cause she just went threw the surgery and now is going threw the chemo. Love ya and we are here if you need us 💞
ReplyDelete