thoughts from leanne

a few thoughts from leanne who loves moya and her breasts but not just for her breasts :)

i get anxious and sad and nervous and fearful about *s-u-r-g-e-r-y* (such an ominous word though it seems like it’ll be such a minor event) for biopsy and anxious about the results and glad that there’s something being done to better define the calcifications. isn’t it ironic that they’re called “calcifications” and the thing my bones lack are enough calcium and here moya has extra calcifications. okay so calcium for bones isn’t the same as calcifications.

i hear from and talk with all these people who think it’s not that big of a deal to have your breast sliced into in two places and it’s oh-so-common and happens all the time and you go back to work the next day and … well … never happened to me before so it feels oh-so-uncommon to me and i think it’s a big deal. i feel like i’m having some overly dramatic emotional reaction. i’m struck by something to do with loss. perhaps the loss of a few grams of body tissue? or the loss of certainty of health (not that certainty really exists)? that we’re healthy until proven otherwise.

i’m also grossed out by the description in dr susan love’s breast book of making an incision and digging through tissue to get the calcifications out and all those stitches (and, oy, the picture of pulling tissue out makes me nauseous — and i don’t need any more nausea these days).

i know the anxiety is not at all rational and logical and doesn’t take into account the facts and information about the probable results of the biopsy — that dr grissom is extremely talented and experienced; and that it’s fabulous these are found early and can be removed instead of waiting for lumps and bumps; and it happens to 20% of gals; and “they” (the experts) know a lot about what to do even with uncertainty about what to do; and, being a stats geek, i know that 90% benign is really superduper high odds, and, anyways, i get weepy over the thought of a surgeon slicing pieces out of moya.