X Marked the Lump on My Breast

X Marked the Lump on My Breast

WHAT IS THIS? My fingers felt a grape size lump under my right breast. Is this a lump on my breast? My heart skipped a beat. What does it look like? I asked Daniel, my future husband, to describe it to me. "It looks like a pimple. Maybe."

Okay. So maybe it is a pimple and my skin is reacting to it. To be on the safe side I'll make an appointment on Monday.

The "what if it's not" kept my mind racing for hours. It took all of my willpower to not get into bed and cry. It took all of strength to not freak out. If I did freak out then this finding was real.


Image: Melissa Ford

I don't know how I got through the rest of Saturday. I can't even tell you what I did. It's all a blur. I remember going to Sports Authority with Daniel and my nieces to find Ariana a tennis racquet. I walked into the store and ran towards the bathroom. I knew the tears were trying to burst through in the car ride to Norwalk, and I didn't want them to see me cry. Hold on, where's my tissue. I did use the bathroom and I did cry. I didn't for long though. I wouldn't let myself.

It's just a pimple. Its just a pimple. Its just a pimple. itsjustapimpleitsjustapimpleitsjustapimple...

I don't know how many times I said that before I finally calmed myself down enough to go out and find the family. As I walked towards them, the racquet was already selected. I had wanted to take pictures and notes on the whole shopping process, but I had missed the whole thing.

The rest of the evening was better. I didn't cry again until Sunday morning. I woke up to my mom telling me Analis hadn't come home from her friend's party on Saturday night. I was at a loss for words. I had hoped that she had stayed at her friend's house. I called her cell. No answer. I sent out calls to her, her friend and her boyfriend. No answer. An hour later, I was ready to drive to her friend's house when Analis walked into my bedroom. Sorry Titi, my phone was on silent.

I let Daniel know that I had found her. She'd been home the whole time. She had been asleep in the spare bedroom, a mere 10 feet away from me. The tears burst through at that moment. I was tired. I wasn't sure if I could wait another day to make an appointment. But I wiped my face and headed off to church. After all, it was just a pimple.

Being in Mass though, I seemed to cry even more. The tears kept coming down as I said silent prayers to my Lord Jesus Christ. I apologized for complaining about all the unexpectedness that had moved into my life as of late. I listened to the sermon talk about how we're going to live on forever, after our body is gone. Yes, our spirit lives on. I just didn't want to leave so soon. Daniel hugged me. I completely forgot he was there. I didn't want him to see me crying. After all, it was just a pimple.  I put on a happy face, and it really helped in tricking my mind to enjoy the rest of Sunday.

On Monday morning, I brought my niece to school and made it to work on time. Before I called the doctor's office, I found myself in the bathroom at work taking a picture of my breast. To see if the pimple was still there. It was and so was the lump.


I called the Women's Health office. The receptionist asked what was the reason for my appointment. I lowered my voice and spoke slowly. She let me know that my doctor's next available appointment was a week away. She listed the other doctors that were available. But I took the appointment a week away. It was a pimple. There isn't a rush for that right?

As soon as I hung up the phone I regretted it, but I couldn't find the strength to call back. If I did, I would be admitting that it was not a pimple. God must have known I'd have a nervous breakdown between Monday and next Tuesday because the receptionist called back with 3 cancellations for the next morning. I took the earliest of the 3.

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