A Breasty Situation

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“You will need to return for a sonogram” were words strung together and thrown at me. Me. Clearly she didn’t know who I was. I’m a doctor. I’m a warrior mom. And our type don’t get … nevermind.

Secretly, I’ve always thought that those multiple breast jabs and elbow stabs that I’ve endured from my dual-diagnoses, Autism/ADHD, son was bound to show up on a scan somewhere. He is relentless.

But true to my profession, I’ve ignored “self-care” and the phone call. Not to mention, it took nearly an act of Congress to get me to the Mammogram. My doctor sent me that prescription in all forms but a telegram. It eventually got done. And again, true to my profession, I strongly recommend you getting one.

But now they want me back. Oh for heaven’s. What for?

Alright. Let’s run the possibilities.

1)It’s fake. The results are fake news. Aka, artifact, aka scars (thank you, Nolan), aka plain-ole tissue density. Yea. Yipeee! All because I paid the extra $75 for 3-D imaging in search of every spec. And … thinking deeply … paying for that kind of test kinda means that I do want to know. Doesn’t it? Moving on.

2)It’s real. The results are truly news. Aka, not artifact. Aka, not scars. Aka not plain-ole breast tissue density. Alright. I’m breathing. Then what the heck is it?

Let me ask you a question? Have you ever taken a photo of a pond, through a screen door and then converted it to a black and white photo and then tried to determine what kind of bug was flying by as you snapped the shot? Neither have I.

But you would be close in saying that it was a flying insect as opposed to a leaping frog. I’m also sure that it would be challenging to say that it was a yellow jacket and not a bee.

To be certain, you would have had to be by the pond and notice the bee and the hive up close in person. In medicine – we would akin that to a tissue biopsy.

But the nice thing about imaging, whether it be a picture or a mammogram, is that it gives you a very good idea of what you are looking at. Aka, it’s a flying bug or it’s a mass that does not look like the surrounding tissue. The limitations, however, are such that it cannot be specific.

Yet, here I sit, tooled with knowledge, having not made that phone call.

Is it because 2 years ago, I went through the same and the follow-up sonogram was negative and now I’m complacent? Or is it because I’m a dual-diagnoses autism/ADHD mom and I have a plethora of annoyances that leaves me too drained to drive? Or is it that I’m using my love of blogging to procrastinate?

Yes.

Seated with you, in the office, hearing you rattle off the above, I would level with you and say “Stop making excuses.”

And would likely have gone on to saying something like “The sick you is of no good to the busy you or to your life’s priorities. So, make the call. Get your screening done. Complete your follow-up.”

Pausing for effect. And my own thoughts.

What’s my final action? Thanks for the talk. I’m ready now. My booth is waiting. I’m off to make that call. Cue the soundtrack to Super-Doctor-Mommy!

The Right Tools

Listening to my patients, with my ears, is often times much more accurate than with my stethoscope. The right tool makes a difference. Yet, there I was, writing my blog via my smart phone. What can I tell you, this autism mom has had soooo many devices destroyed, wrecked and ravaged by the bending, molding, twisting everything little fingers of my son such that I don’t own anything of worth any more. My phones are fortunate to survive the year and well, so are his teachers for that matter. But we digress.

I did noticed something, however. Despite having a quite capable smart phone and my will to write, I wasn’t. Of course I used the phone daily .. minutely. But, I was tied up. You know … neuro-typical daughter wants the mall. Neuro-divergent son wants … nothing to do with you. Then everyone wants dinner, daily and of course there’s the full-time career as the fun-loving, life saver. Yes. I’m tied up. But that was not my “WHY” for not writing.

The why was really my laptop meeting its untimely demise 4 years ago. It’s springy little letters were plucked from its very sockets without a thought of “how’s mommy going to type?” and its body losing the fight against gravity, the counter top and him! So I’ve been without my tool. And quite frankly, not willing to buy another one.

But as anyone will tell you, the right tool just makes any project easier. So although his little fingers are still super active, I’ve stepped out in hope! Hope that the past 4 years weren’t in vain. Hope that potty training has taught him more than potty training. Hope that his love for letters will now allow him to find mercy on the upper left hand Q, A and esc button. For surely he can control other body parts now too. (Yes, I’m looking at you … fingers).

So watch out world … doctorann.blog is back. Tool in hand.

Oh, and I’m still listening … with my ears 🙂 Tell me what you think. I love hearing your ideas of what to write about next!