The Importance of Mammograms

Breast Cancer Awareness Month and the importance of mammograms were the catalysts for this second blog. I discuss my personal experiences with mammograms and my breasts. I do not compare my experience to anyone else; this is just my view. I would love to hear your comments and thoughts. Colleen

PLEASE SIGN UP FOR EMAIL NOTICES OF NEW BLOGS UNDER OUR CONTACT PAGE.

I FEAR MY BREASTS MORE THAN A MAMMOGRAM

I was 18 years old when I first discovered that I was afraid of my breasts. It was not during puberty or training bras but when our family doctor told my mom he felt something lumpy in my right breast.  I was thinking that the old man should not have been feeling me up in the first place but I dare not say that out loud.  My mom assured me it had to be nothing and I tried to forget the whole experience but the fear lingered.  It was a lot easier to become distracted in 1985, I was an 18 year old senior in high school and there was no WebMD to strike fear in my heart. Today, my lumpy breast would immediately red flag me for future mammograms or ultrasounds.  I would look up everything on the internet, convinced it was something horrible and my anxiety would likely explode . Younger women no longer have the gift of youthful ignorance when it comes to lumps or possible abnormal diagnoses, that makes me terribly sad for them.

The fear came around again in 2002 at age 35.  At the time, my daughters were 7 and 5 and I was trying to be supermom, every day in every way.  I noticed a lump in my left breast and figured it would go away.  After all, it had to be nothing! At least that’s what my mind said, my fear said something very different.  When it didn’t go away, I gave in and went to the doctor.  Thinking that he would say it was nothing, I was surprised when he felt it, then felt it again and said we needed a mammogram.  The panic soon set in and the doctor told me not to worry.  Does that really work on any women who has just been told she needs further examination?  Really?

I went for the mammogram and was then told I needed an ultrasound.  I went to the ultrasound which was inconclusive and I would need to see the doctor again.  The doctor ordered another ultrasound and by that point, I was terrified of these breasts that caused me such grief. I started to bargain with them but they didn’t want anything.  My stomach was in knots, my anxiety was off the charts and I kept thinking “I can’t be sick, I have babies that need me!”  

After the second ultrasound, the doctor reviewed the results and said “We can’t tell if it benign or not so you have 3 options: 1) Keep an eye on it and see if changes, 2) biopsy and hope it’s benign or 3) remove it.”  Thank goodness my husband, Randy was with me because I don’t remember much after the doctor said he couldn’t tell what it was. Randy asked the right questions and I looked at the doctor and said “get it out.”  If it wasn’t supposed to be there, then get it out of my body!  I didn’t really care that it would leave a scar, as the doctor warned me, nor did I care if I could no longer wear strapless clothes without the scar showing.  Was he serious about that?

The surgery was soon after and I remember having an out of body experience during most of the day.  I distinctly remember the pain when they placed a small wire into my breast to locate the lump and thinking how strange it was to have it sticking out of my skin.  Next thing I remember, my mom was sitting next to me telling me the lump was benign.  IT WAS BENIGN!  I do not take for granted how lucky I was that day, I know the gift I received and I am very grateful.

The experience put me at a higher risk so I’ve had yearly mammograms since age 35.  My breasts are dense so they often can’t see everything and I require an ultrasound.  A few years ago, they found a cyst in my right breast.  Testing has improved enough to see that it was a benign cyst but I required biyearly exams for a while after that.  It wasn’t the idea of the exam twice a year that scared me but I ruminated over what could be happening in my breasts during those 6 months in between appointments.

My breasts love to scare me so you can understand my fear of them.  Personal self exams find me talking to them asking to please be nice and not let me feel any unusual lumps.  They don’t always listen but I know now that I am prone to cysts and don’t panic quite as fast.  I acknowledge this fear and I accept that it’s not going away.  As scared as I am of these breasts, I have grown attached to them (so has my husband) so I would like to keep them healthy.

I do what I can to ease the fear of them by taking anxiety meds before I go to a doctor’s appointment. I try to make the appointments first thing in the morning so I don’t think about it all day.  Afterwards, I treat myself to something because bribery still works at my age.  What I won’t do is avoid the yearly mammogram!   I can’t stand uncertainty and I am a strong believer that knowledge and early detection is power.  

I would rather accept the fear of my breasts, then ignore them and the care they require.  If they play nice, so will I.