Late last week, I noticed a bulge in my armpit, but for some reason it didn't register. I mean, I remember thinking it looked odd, but other than that, I just totally forgot about it. I noticed it again yesterday, and I mentioned it to a friend. She told me to get in immediately and get it checked out. Or. Else.
Of course, I started looking up what a bulge in the armpit could mean, and of course (like any sane person) started fretting. The big BC word came immediately to mind, because most all women fear the diagnosis of BC. I mean..it's only natural, right? I wasn't feeling well in the first place, because of the whole bronchitis thingy, so I went to bed somewhat early. Well, 11pm, but that was early considering the situation. You know?
I did a self breast exam, and I found a small lump. It's small. It's not on my breast as much as it's on my chest to the side of my breast. So I know it can't be a gland. It's a lump for sure. I fell asleep praying, and I slept really hard until 3am when I woke up to use the potty room. I went back to bed, but I couldn't seem to fall asleep. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:17. The alarm went off at 5:30 to get up and get the girls ready for school. They left around 7:00, and I decided to try to get a little bit of sleep until I had to call the doctor's office at 8:00.
The alarm sounded foggy and foreign and odd when it went off, so I must have fallen asleep pretty hard. Fearing what my friend's Or. Else. might mean along with the lump and the feeling I had a marshmallow in my armpit might indicate, I made an appointment to see my doctor at 2:00. I then brought the phones to bed with me and tried to get a little more shut eye. It didn't come easily, but I was able to sleep a little longer until the phone rang. I got up and got ready for my appointment and made a couple of phone calls.
One of the calls I'd made is to a friend of mine who survived breast cancer. She said I sounded like a horse when I answered the phone, because the bronchitisy stuff has caused a change in my voice. We laughed. I asked her different questions. She gave me answers. She said that I sounded like I was taking things well. I reminded her that I have a problem with stuffing my feelings, that I was actually pretty nervous. She understood. She's been there. She'll be praying for me. Talking to her really helped.
My hubby went with me to the doctor's office. He has my back. He held my hand. He offered support. He helped without saying a word. We waited a bit nervously in the waiting room. I was called back almost immediately.
The doctor did a breast exam. After I pointed the lump out to her, she could feel it, but she didn't feel it during the exam. She palpated my armpit. Said that it's not my lymph nodes. It's something else. She said it felt fleshy. I maintain if feels marshamallowy. She seemed a bit perplexed. She's seen this in pregnant and nursing women, but she seemed surprised to see it in me, since I'm neither. She ordered a mammogram and an ultrasound. I go in on Friday. I felt much better after seeing her though.
Needless to say, (although I obviously feel a need to say it, or I wouldn't be typing this), I didn't get anything done today on the house. I'm hoping to get something accomplished before Friday and after Friday, but I'm not too concerned, if I don't get very far with things this week. Life happens. And I am going to have to deal with life as it happens, and when it does, the dehoarding will be put on the back burner.
Such is life.
Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder that is just beginning to be understood. As a hoarder, I have acquired things over the years with a specific purpose in mind at the time of the acquisition, used some of those items for their intended purposes, forgotten the goal for different objects, but now that I find that they have outlived their purpose in my life I am struggling to rid myself of those same things.
You can read the start of my journey here.