I also drool uncontrollably if you ring a bell.

This morning I woke up almost totally on time. The nice thing about the kids having to be to school at 9am is that if you can't do it (and you only have two kids and you work at home) you really are an asshole. So I've arranged my morning routine so that I can perfectly get breakfast made, lunches ready to go and make sure the kids are dressed and brushed and washed up and then to school on time.

The only part of the getting everyone ready in the morning that's missing is me who generally doesn't like to get dressed in the morning. I like to work in our bedroom with the beautiful sun that blows into our bedroom all day, well when there is sun anyway.

So this morning, having to be out the door with the kids for my appointment threw a little kink in my plans and I was feeling a little frantic and, because I was frantic, I didn't worry very much about the "mass" in my breast.

Until I got in the car to go to the appointment and I realized I hadn't spent a lot of the weekend worrying like I planned to. I planned to worry a lot but when I looked up information on Google, usually the perfect Panic Tool, right? No, words like, "Overwhelmingly Benign" kept coming up in reference to smooth edged masses in one's breast.

Thanks a lot Dr. Google, I was trying to freak out over here.

So instead I tried to pack in as much hyperventilating and worry as I could on the drive over and while in the waiting room. A friend suggested I picture the "mass" as a spider egg, ready to explode. That was shockingly effective at raising my heartbeat and getting me in the correct mindset for a such a momentous occasion.

I was called in to get more detailed shots of my left breast and Ouchie Waa-Waa. I don't think Bea, my technician, actually has breasts of her own because she tried to pull mine off with that machine.

Maggie mentioned that when she's working out and it's difficult she may do a "crazed hyena whimper-laugh", well I think that's the noise I made while Bea tried to rip my left breast from my body with a tiny piece of plastic clamped down on a machine. Except my giggling was punctuated with "Wow! Hey....Wow!" because I couldn't believe she wanted to put my boob through this and wanted me to hold my breath while she did it.

Also Bea was wearing a chainmail ensemble. Is that normal?

Seeing the actual part they were looking at on my mammogram ramped the worry a great deal, so that was good.  I wish I could share the mammogram with you....I tried to subtly snap a picture...if I did you would see why I'm not ready to say "good bye" to my breasts. They're really lovely even with a small mass in the upper left quadrant of one.

When I finally got into the ultrasound room I couldn't seem to get over the fact that they were using the ultrasound wand on my boob. And when I looked at the screen, I kept thinking how I should be waiting to see a baby, which is absurd, because a baby in your boob? That's definitely worse than cancer.

And that got me going with the crazed hyena laugh again.

But then I could see the "mass" and I knew it was supposed to be clear...so black...and a couple of times it did not look black it looked white. For a few moments I contemplated what it would mean to go home and call Logan and tell him I had cancer. I thought about how I'd sit the kids down and tell them that cancer isn't that big a deal! It's better than a poke in the eye!

And my heart was racing and I felt the power of the Internet worrying with me and it was a beautiful crescendo of worry!

THANK GOD WE DID THAT! Because then the nurse said, "It looks like you have a small cyst and one of your lymph nodes has migrated from under your arm to your breast and they're very close together."

Bluh???

My Lymph Node Migrated? It didn't like the weather? Wanted to be closer to family? Wanted more loving attention from my husband? Needed a shorter commute?

Apparently your Lymph Node seeking out a nice vacation spot in the South of Your Boob (There must a be a great beach and amazing antiquing!) is not necessarily a problem because all parties agreed this situation is benign.

(Handy note for those of you who haven't spent the last 3 days frantically reading up on cancer: Benign = Annoying But Nothing. Malignant = A God Damn Motherfucker. )

So all is well, I go back once a year from now until I die and every year we all commit to worrying with the same amount of vigor. Deal? Ha ha....ha.......ha....

I always thought I'd feel a lump in my breast if there was one, that I didn't feel this one is probably a good thing in the long run: I'll never miss a mammogram appointment!

But generally it's shaken me a little. It's scary what can be growing in your body that you aren't aware of. I honestly thought if I felt myself up enough I'd know. Now this means I can't grope myself at the grocery store for medical reasons. And it means that you can't catch these things on your own, and I'm a little sad about that.

Luckily, I know how to worry the shit out of things.

A few people tried to explain to me how worrying, or not worrying really doesn't change reality. And all I heard was "Mwah mwahh maa maaah."

You know how dogs bark at passersby, and the mailman and the (really hot) UPS guy? And people struggle to train their dogs not to do that because it is intensely annoying and disruptive to every day life because, guess what? The mailman keeps coming and people keep walking by and the UPS guy is going somewhere on your street almost all the time.

In your dog's tiny brain, he believes his barking kept those people away. Your dog is all,
"Phew! The mailman walked up....and then he walked away when he heard me barking."
"The brown truck? Terrified of my barking!"
"That human, walking down the street, kept right on going because I barked. Hey! When's dinner?"

I realized at some point Sunday I am no different than a dog. Maybe a little different but I appear to have the same neuron paths.

You will never convince me my worrying doesn't control the universe, or at least my itty bitty universe and today just reinforced all of that.

Also if you walk by my house tonight, I'll bark until you keep right on going. And if you're a squirrel in my yard? Man you picked the wrong house buddy.

Comments

[kris]

i went for a re-squeeze today too. mine was for what appeared to be 'benign calcification' also in the left boob... i had that once before and had to go in for one of those REALLY unpleasant core needle biopsy things so i was not looking forward to hearing i had to do that again but ...surpirse!!! just a couple extra pictures and i was free to go. thank you jesus or whoever the patron saint of boobs happens to be.

[Laura]

Oh, Melissa: the great collective internet has done it again! We grouped together and scared even the AURA of cancer away from you with our tremendous powers of worry!

We gud protective dawg? We can haz cheeezburger?

[tonya]

Yay! I've been waiting all day to read your update. I was so hoping that my ostrich-head-in-the-sand approach that I last commented about would work for you. Looks like the collective worrying and my completely blowing it off worked. ;) heh heh.

I am so glad. Yay!

[Suzanne]

Yay! So glad to hear that you are "clear for a year!"

[cjh]

Oh, good! Now we just need to worry for me. Turn 32 on Thursday and have made it through a Pap scare last month only to need my first mammogram next Thursday. I also didn't notice anything but The Fiance did. In both breasts. Woohoo. Oh, and I woke up freakishly early this morning with a UTI. Life? Not so fun right now.

[Calypso]

Funniest post ever - love the dog-talk. And I'm glad you haven't got cancer.

[Joceline]

Great news! I too am convinced that the only thing that stands between me and utter chaos is my ability to worry. Sure it's a bit stressful living in a near constant state of unrelenting low-level anxiety, but with great power comes great responsibility!

Joking aside, if I'm able to raise my daughter to worry 50% less than I do it will feel like a big achievement. Would really like to not pass these super powers down another generation.

[HouseofJules]

So glad all our worrying helped out and that you're okay!

That "baby in your boob" line is going to make me laugh to myself all day long at work, so thanks in advance for making me look crazy! :)
Jules
House of Jules

[madge]

I think you might need to trademark The Power of Worry and take that sh*t on the road.

I'd go to that seminar.

[madge]

Oh, also? YAY! No cancer!!!

[Lauren]

Arf! I'm so glad everything was just fine, was worrying for you all weekend. Really, yeah! :)

[Kristin]

I hardly ever comment, but wanted you to know that I read your blog everyday and I was worrying for you. So glad things are right with the universe. I don't like barking so I promise not to come near your house.

[Sharon]

I'm glad everything is ok!

[Krys]

SOOO know where you're coming from.
Once I had "seepage" from the boob on the right (NOT referring to dear hubby this time!). So at 35 was in for my 1st mammogram. Thankfully okay although I was convinced for two weeks I had breast cancer and was dying.
Then switched OB/GYNs after, oh, 10 years and the new guy says the fibroid tumors look fine.
WTF?????????????????????????????????????
WHAT.FIBROID.TUMORS?????????????????????
No mention of fibroids, tumors, OR fibroid tumors by previous OB/GYN, who by the way, up 'til then was ranted and raved about for years.
All of a sudden there are tumors in my uterus, one of which is the size of a baseball?
I'm completely without any symptoms, so we're just leaving them there, checking on them once a year (started out with ultrasounds twice a year, but we're down to one annually), and blaming them, not my lack of exercise and sedentary lifestyle, on my protruding belly which makes me look a little pregnant...
Oh, and I almost forgot the calcifications in my breasts. Diagnosis: lumpy breasts. (And that was the technical term!)

[Jean]

I was totally worrying for you because, like you, I really believe that if I worry like crazy, everything will be ok.

[Elizabeth]

Hi I read most days - missed the possible cancer news. I had to comment though on the worrying thing. I think as a mother you always live with a little fear in the back of your brain. I'm a happy optimist and I'm generally on top of things but I quietly worry about dying fairly often. My dad died five years ago and my mom is in poor health so I think that spurs my subtle hypochondria. I'm very glad that you don't have cancer and I think you should find a different mammogram tech. It shouldn't hurt that much! Have a great day!

[Hayley]

I am so glad it turned out ok. My aunt has breast cancer and I've had another die from it, so I've seen how bad it can get.

BTW- My old Lab Bear, who belongs to my bastard ex-husband, used to bark at everyone. But once, it saved my life. So there you go. It's okay to bark.

[joaaanna]

I too am just waiting for the day when my breast cancer appears. My great-grandmother, grandmother, aunt died from breast cancer and my mom had a double mastectomy last year. So yeah, I know it's coming. I would like to add to your statement that you figured you'd feel a lump. None of my relatives had a lump. My great-grandmother and aunt had something that looked like a bruise and my grandmother and mom had indentations, not lumps. So ladies, keep feeling yourselves up - but also take a look in the mirror and go to your doctor.

On another note - I was told I could get DNA tests done to see if I would get breast cancer, but if I did... when I actually DID get the boob cancer, it would be considered a pre-exisiting condition. Love those insurance folks!

I'm so, so glad to hear that you and your boobs are okay.

[Bibliomama]

I don't even know why we have to discuss worrying -- in my mind it's a proven scientific fact that nothing you take the time to worry about actually happens. You were just being responsible.
Thank goodness. I know it's lame, but my life would suck without your blog.

[Lynn]

Yeah!!! So happy for you! And ouch, I swear that half my boobs are on under my armpit. It HURTS when they squeeze it there.

[Heidi]

Great news for you! I'm glad everything turned out fine. My Mom is a breast cancer survivor - she just passed the 5-year mark.

And I am so with you on the worrying thing! Every time I get into a car, I have the conscious thought that I might get into an accident on this trip. Every time, of course, except the one day that I DID get into an accident. Also on that day? I hadn't showered yet and I wasn't wearing a bra.

This is my first comment ever, by the way. I really enjoy reading your blog. :)

[Emmy]

I am SOOO glad your boobs are okay! I can't imagine the type of nervous laughter that would come out of me in such a situation. I'd probably have to have a large drink before going to the appointment... is that medically sound?
P.S. does all this dog talk mean you're going to get one? I know, I sound like Madison...

[Marisa]

You're hilarious. I'm delurking to tell you that I want to hug you and buy you a big glass of wine, then get all of our girlfriends together to make inappropriate jokes.

Does that seem weird? It was meant to be friendly. Ha.

[Lyndsay]

That will be $19.95 for my share of the worry.

Perhaps one of the only times a migrating lymph node would be a welcomed occurance?

[Meredith]

I completely subscribe to the power of worry. I don't leave home without it.

So glad everything turned out alright.

[Stephanie]

So relieved for you - congratulations!

[Lily]

I am subconsciously feeling myself up right now. Except I'm not at the grocery store, I'm at work sitting out in the open at my desk. I can't help myself, and I don't mean that in any sexual sense whatsoever.

I'm so relieved to hear it turned out to be a vacationing lymph node.

You worry, I do the equivalent of plugging my ears and saying "Can't heeeaaar youuuu"

[Jennifer]

Happy news.
But now I am going to worry about a baby in my boob.

[Jenn @ Juggling Life]

What a relief.

[sarah]

phew! If it helped, I thought about your situation over the weekend (and I don't even know you) and worried. I have enjoyed your blog so much, and I was going to be extremely pissed off at the universe if you were sick.

I had to have a breast ultrasound two years ago and I agree that it was the weirdest thing ever. I didn't even know they DID that.

[Linda]

Keep getting those mammies! I have had one every year since I turned 40. No history of breast cancer in my family. Number 14 showed a small (less than 2cm) mass. Yep! Cancer! The radiologist ran the wand over it and said, "I see it but I can't feel it." I would not have found it on my own nor would my very attentive husband. Lumpectomy, removal of sentinal nodes, radiation and I am as good as new. The scars help with my pirate costume. Moral: get those mammies!

[Jen]

I am glad to hear things went well. I found out yesterday that I also have a "LUMP" situation and have to go visit the boob doctor on Thursday. I am going to worry like a fiend until then.

[Sunny]

So glad to hear that you are doing well!

My aunt had a very similar experience, minus the migrating node, and was cleared on Monday with her ultrasound.

I'm glad all the worrying paid off in your favor.

[HomeSlice]

good to know you got the all clear, and hopefully your lymphnode is enjoying the new digs.

[SarahA]

I am so, so glad to hear benign! Wooooot! Also, I like the idea of a Patron Saint for Boobs.

[Sheila]

My favorite part about Worrying is the giant "Phew!" that comes after.

So glad you got your "Phew!".

[Mary]

I'm so glad you are ok. I worried for you all weekend.

[Ashland Avenue]

*WHEW.* I'm so glad for you, Melissa! I'm 42 and have already had breast cancer twice - the second time, I had a double mastectomy with reconstruction. (How scary does that sound?) There must be some good boobie mojo floating around the Midwest; I just saw my plastic surgeon today for a check-up after my final surgery a week ago (tissue expanders taken out, implants put in). Despite some past complications, my new boobs look way better than we hoped possible! Not as good as the originals, of course, but I'm past that stage of mourning. Next step, tattooing on of the nipples. Why yes, you did read that correctly.

[KYouell]

Congrats to you on no baby in the boob and the benign migrating lymph node!

And those people who think that worrying doesn't help are the people I worry about. If they are so left-brained and logical that they can't imagine a reality where worry (or prayer or anything else right-brained) works, then I am worried that their right hemisphere has atrophied and they cannot do ANYTHING creative. Like enjoy art. Or a good blog. Poor things.

[Deidre]

Melissa, I am so glad that it was benign!

I am less of a worrier more of "if i get stressed out enough everything will be fine" person - its a very subtle difference.

[amy]

good news!!!

[~T]

Your excellent news made my day =)

[Andrea]

So glad to hear everything is OK!

Now back to our regularly-scheduled neuroses...

[Jennifer]

I'm really happy that everything turned out okay. I prayed that it would. My favorite sentence in the whole post is "The nice thing about the kids having to be to school at 9am is that if you can't do it (and you only have two kids and you work at home) you really are an asshole." That is hysterically funny and so true!

[Michelle]

Congrats on the good news - worrying is one of those personal choices - someone cannot tell you to stop doing it and expect that it will happen (unless that someone has evidence that the worrying is no longer necessary - such as by showing you that a vacationing lymph node is not a problem).

The part about the baby in the boob made me laugh out loud - my toddler spent a small part of my second pregnancy patting my breasts on occassion and saying, "Baby Jack in there."

[aimee]

So so glad for you. And, I'm totally with you on the worrying. Between you, me and my sister (also a big worrier) I think we could save the world if we worked together to combine the power of our worry!

[beyond]

glad all is well.
(isn't it weird -and wonderful- how breasts go back to their regular shape after that torture?)

[getsheila]

Awesome! Happy boob rebirth day!

[lorrie]

You know, I have also found this theory to be true. And it's a lot easier to put into effect that the "just think pleasant thoughts and you'll be a zillionaire" theory.

[Carolyn]

I know what you mean about the technician trying to pull your boob off with the machine. Each time I go, I'm stunned that someone is really doing that to me. It's so horrendous I forget to worry about the results, I just want it to be over. That machine had to have been invented by a man. And yes, I know we have to do it, but I will stop complaining about it as soon as they invent a similar device for annual testicular cancer screening.

[Valerie]

I'm so glad everything turned out ok.

I am fully convinced that as long as I sufficiently worry about stressful/scary situations that the universe will, in turn, bestow bad luck upon some unsuspecting fool.

[Eva]

God...you are funny.
Thanks for reminding me that I better get another boob-squeeze...you know, from a professional.

[lieben]

Interessante Informationen.

[emdub]

Yay, glad the boobs are fine!

I have fibrous breasts that are always lumpy anyhow, so it's a treat to do a breast exam, I tell ya. I had a few mammograms 2 years ago just to put my (and my gyn's) mind at ease, and spent practicaly the week before feeling myself up every spare moment!

I agree with the Power of Worry. Do you know I can fly an airplane with my worry? I think the only reason airplanes stay in the sky are the 12 or so worriers on the plane, keeping it aloft with their minds!

I remember reading about "Sully" landing the plane in the Hudson- he said he didn't have time to pray, but was pretty sure everyone in the back was praying enough to cover him while he landed the plane.