Paris and more

Paris was amazing. Of course it was. It's Paris. Sharing a video here which says more about the trip than I ever could, even though I'm supposed to be good at words. 

The words I want to share are something that went with me to paris, though I didn't really want to pack them. 

On March 6th, a few days after the book came out, I had a mammogram. My first. Don't judge, at least I got there. The next day, I got a message that I needed to schedule a follow-up. Now the tech had told me that was likely to happen, because they didn't have a baseline to compare my images to, but here I was, thinking I was special.

I called, and the first available appointment they had was the day I got back from Paris. So I pushed it to Friday, just in case there were delays. I did think that if they'd seen something they considered serious, they would have got me in immediately, but you never know. The woman at the clinic told me to put it out of my mind and enjoy my vacation, which would have been easier if the University of Penn healthcare system didn't text me every single day to remind me of my upcoming mammogram and ultrasound appointments. 

I managed to enjoy my vacation, but my problematic boobs were never off my mind. 

We got back Wednesday evening, and on Friday morning, I met up with one of my best friends - who's been through this rodeo - and had my follow-ups. It was the kind of appointment where they evaluate your results immediately and move on to the next thing, which at least takes the suspense out of it, and when I scheduled the appointment, even though I was told it was probably nothing, if it was something, I wouldn't leave the office without a follow-up appointment and to treatment plan. So there was that. 

Long story still somewhat long, the right breast was fine, and there is something in the left that they believe is still not a problem. They gave me the option of following up in 6 months or a needle biopsy, and when I asked the doctor if she was really concerned would my only option have been the biopsy, she said yes. So now I'm willing to kick it down the road for 6 months, knowing that if they had even a vague suspicion that it was bad, they wouldn't let me. 

So, a huge exhale. Remember how, in my last post, I said I didn't talk about Paris because I was afraid of jinxing it? I didn't mention this for the same reason. 

I'll pop back over the weekend, if I can, with more Paris photos. Otherwise, that's a lot to look forward to next week.