Every year we women have the great...ok not great...and probably not every year.....opportunity to visit the doctor for what we hope to be "you are doing great see you next year visit."
Yesterday I showed up at my doctor's office and met my mom, who took all four of my children, so I could enjoy this experience in peace, enjoy is probably not the correct adjective but you know what I mean.
So I sat in peace in the waiting room, taking in deep breaths, so my blood pressure will be normal, not my normal but normal normal. I didn't wait long until my name was called back.
"Hop on the scale." Not too bad, not the number I'd like to see but not the numbers I fear to see either.
"Sit, lets see how your blood pressure is doing, I will prick your finger while we are waiting to check your iron." Ok not too bad.
"Lets go to the office." All the standard questions are asked. I answer, laughing and joking like I normally do.
Doctor comes in, we talk. I tell her a bit of my history. Mention to her that for some reason my body keeps producing lumps. She and I talk about that. Then she has me assume the position. I look up and low and behold staring above me John Stockton...what the heck? So I mentioned to the doctor that I have never had a professional ball player in the room for this. I am trying to make light conversation and joke while I hold back the tears of uncomfortableness.
"Does this hurt."
"I will stop."
She then hands me a box of tissue. Ok thanks I guess.
"We need to do a belly scan, I feel a large mass."
"It couldn't be a baby could it?"
"No, its too hard." Relief flooded over me. I am not sure if that is the right response, a mass is more comforting to me than a baby right now?
I went to the sonogram room, and lay down on the table, and asked her if I could get a DVD...I laughed, and she said "Well if it is a baby I will turn it on for you."
"Thanks, I really hope its not a baby, I guess there could be worse things."
The screen fills with black and grey blobs and she is clicking and measuring, and at the bottom of the screen I see "mass" and measurements.
I asked "do you see what she felt?"
"Yes there is a tumor."
So here I sit, with no John Stockton passing to Malone to look at, and wonder what the heck is going on in my body. First the chest than my face and now my uterus. She wants me to call my insurance and see if they will pay for a CT Scan.
Honestly, is my fourth quarter of problems up yet?? Can I pass the ball to someone? I feel like a ball player holding the ball and being guarded by the whole other team and no one to pass the ball to...I am about to double dribble here.