I usually try to keep this blog's material to that of my kids, hence the name. Max and Madeleine are the most important people in my life (along with my husband), they are my writing inspiration. As I have become busier with life my blog writing time has fallen to the wayside. Max and Madeleine are still making crazy strides in development but it is not so obviously quick, not the light-speed changes that happen when they were babies. So, I have not written in months, and life has continued. Max and Madeleine have started their second year of preschool and love it. I have gone back to public school teaching and am getting use to it. Michael and I continue to make progress toward having the house and home that we envisioned all along.
Here is where I divert my attention from my children and let you in on a little secret about me.
My breasts can write their own story. From the minute I understood the power of them until now; they have their own tale. I have to admit I have grown quite attached to these symbols of feminine. When was the last time you thought about your breasts? Thinking of the milestones.... first bra, first bikini bathing suit (mine was red and purple flowers and I thought it was awesome!), pregnancy changes (that was a shock), first time my children fed from my own breasts (amazing!), and finally, my first mammogram.
Usually we get our first mammogram when we are 40 years old. At my last OB appointment my doctor recommended one based on her breast exam. I am 38. I wasn't looking forward to it. The suspicious area turned into nothing of concern, however, on the other side they found some calcifications. I know, I didn't know what that meant either and I'm not entirely sure that I still do. What I do know now is that they asked me to go in for a biopsy, which I did and it sucked. I waited 3 days to get the results.
When the office called with the results I knew it was bad because the radiologist called and not the nurse. The news was ambiguous. Although there is not a clear sign of cancer there are suspicious cells. I have been diagnosed with Atypical Lobular Hyperplasia. What I can figure out is that they really don't know and in order for them to know they have to take out a bunch of tissue and look at it under the microscope. I don't know what they will find but I fear that this is just the tip of the iceberg.
My breasts have taken on a new identity, one that is completely unexpected.
