Skip to main content

What to do with the boobs...

Had my appointment today. It went as well as I could expect. There weren't any changes in the lump I have and he did find another one in my right breast. We discussed genetic testing and removing my breasts all together. I really like my doctor. He will answer my questions and take time with me to help me understand what is going on and could happen. I've set up an appointment for another mammogram on March 8th but I will also be meeting with another doctor for genetic counseling. Dr. Monson wants me to look at all paths before even considering mastectomies. He did mention tamoxofin but I want to do some research on that before I start taking more meds. I'm already on estropipate which is a hormone.

This whole thing has me a bit freaked out. I teared up abit while driving back to Sherri's but regained my composure. I don't want to lose it yet. I don't want to lose it at all. I need to be strong throughout all of this. This is my life and I've become so strong in the past couple of years. I can't fail myself now. Dr. Monson fully understands my worries though seeing how we don't know my entire family history. I'm a high risk with having a birth mother who was premenopausal breast cancer but I'm even higher without the knowledge of my grandmother or aunts medical history. I only know my birth mothers. I know nothing of my birth fathers history. To be perfectly honest...I will listen to the genetic doctor. I will ask a million questions but I have to be honest with myself. Do I want to take a medicine that could have some serious adverse effects on me or do I just want to have my breasts removed and alleviate the fears? I have another 3 weeks to wait before I know. In the meantime...I will do all the research I can. At this point...it's all I can do.

Popular posts from this blog

love

It's a struggle knowing he didn't love me and never did.  To find out the things he does now for his wife?  The woman who is bigger than I ever was, the woman who has been married multiple times, the woman who is tatted up and he hated tats, the woman who shows jealousy, the woman he won't keep secrets from but kept them from me, the woman who is everything he said he hated in me.  Knowing all of this has made me hate him.  I know it does nothing to him.  It will only eat away at me but that has been happening to me for almost 20 years.  I can only now admit that I hate this man with every fiber of my being.    When I met him, I was in a good place.  I was happy with myself, I had friends, I loved sex and I believed in love.  In the almost 2 years I was with him, he destroyed every last bit of me.  I know it was only 2 years but in 2 years, he obliterated every bit of who I was.  Not a day went by where he didn't mentally or em...

Too much...

 There are days I enjoy living my life.  There are days I thoroughly hate it.  Yesterday, while grocery shopping, I almost had a breakdown.  Standing there in the aisle, I had to fight, with everything in me, to not start crying.   Too much has been hitting me this month and I think I'm at the end of my rope.   Beginning of the month, D's new wife sent me a text telling me to lose his number, email and address because I already had my chance with him. I laughed at the absurdity of everything she said in that text as it sounded like something a teenaged girl would write. I haven't wanted that man in almost 20 years, so, she is either highly jealous of his past and any woman he used to be interested in or is extremely insecure with herself and her relationship.  Regardless of her mental state, I told her I was just catching up on life with him, but I will respect her request and not talk to him again.  I've been told she has been married 4...

A lifetime

 I have been mentally ill for as long as I can remember.  I honestly don't remember a time when I thought I was worth loving or even being allowed to live.  I've been suicidal, I've had a catatonic moment, I've been severely depressed.  In essence, I've been a mental mess.  I didn't know why.  I just was.  Doctors put me on medication but they barely touched my illness.  The demons were still there.  When I went off of the medication, those voices were loud and strong.   They controlled me.  The problem was...I didn't mind it.  It was a comfort for me.  It was my safe space.  I embraced their words. I know that sounds twisted but mental illness doesn't make sense. One year ago I decided I had enough.  I wanted to be happy.  I wanted to live my life, not just exist in it.  I went back on medication.  It helped...for a while.  Then those voices started coming back.  "You aren't worth i...