Being that my body is a creaking, stiff, overweight disaster area, you would think I would be rushing to see my GP to discover the root of all the ‘ugh.’ But I don’t go. Hardly.
And because people take one look at the is harassed looking middle aged woman with three kids they assume I don’t go much for that ‘self-care’ is due to having to take care of the kids. And that is partially true. I get really tired of doctors and dentists offices. Caity sees her ortho once a month and we are all over due for dental checkups. But we haven’t actually seen OUR doctors office in a while, mind you, we haven’t seen HIM in months. There was the medical leave (poor dude) that we weren’t informed about and then there is the general rule that you better still be sick in two and half weeks, because that is when you will actually SEE ANY doctor at our practice….that is the biggie that puts me off. Instead, I LOVE dragging my sick self or my sick kids to sit in some walk-in and wait for 3 hours.
That does put me off and make me take up witch craft to cure all ills.
But when I do decide to take action, I then realize why avoid ‘self-care.’ It is the having to tell the same story over and over again and have them mutter about self-care regardless of what detailed story I just gave them. PLUS the waiting. And the lab visits….oh my god…the wait at the lab visits.
So when I discovered a large and extremely painful lump on my left boob I was loathe to actually DO anything and the only thing that pushed me was it seriously hurt like a mo-fo. Seriously. Really hurt. Like couldn’t wear a bra hurt. Like walking around clutching it and hissing and not letting anyone else near it.
Days before the throbbing pain started we noticed a large and ugly yellow bruise on said boob. I back-tracked down memory lane and surmised ugly bruise was from chasing my ass-hole runaway dog. I also scraped my elbow. Anyway….the large lump in boob made me decide to call my doctor (just for shits n giggles) and was basically told that I had NO chance of seeing him in the near future but if could suffer a week, could see another doctor. I declined and away I went to the same walk-in clinic that son and I had dragged our flu-ridden bodies to last month on the hopes that they would take pity on my owie boob and also tell me that I did not have cancer.
This was where the long explanations came in about the large bruise and what had happened. Told him, he squeezed, promptly wrote note for ultra sound, and that was that. Called and was told to wait a week to get said ultra sound.
And home with owie boob I went. Hot bags of nuked rice were my only solace.
While waiting for the ultra sound I decided to also book my mammogram.
I did not realize it had been 5 years since my last one. My first and then second one that was RIGHT AFTER the first due to them seeing something that alarmed them, but then was just because I apparently have lumpy dense boob, now even more lumpy. That appointment was a week later and ironically at same place as ultra sound.
So at ultra sound and tell long winded dog story. She showed my a boob image that looked like I was keeping marbled in it. And that was that.
No panicked call from docs office, so figured a-okay. Boob pain slowly started to reduce and is almost gone now.
Back yesterday for the mammogram ( please really do go more than every 5 years) and telling story AGAIN about bruise and sore boob and why doesn’t anyone write this shit down so they can just read it. She didn’t seem terribly perturbed, just muttered something about ‘self-care’ because obviously I look very un-cared for these days and that was that.
I am assuming that if there is something terribly wrong with left-boob, they would actually call me. I will probably grit my teeth to see my own doctor to discuss further the lumpiness and again tell the story of the stupid dog and why I now tense up when someone mentions self-care. Because really, I have nothing better to do with my time than feel stupid about falling over a dog and my general unhealthy appearance.