I’ve never been the most patient of people and not knowing if this lump residing in me is a good lump or a bad lump is driving me loopy. I’ve detached myself from my breast already, afraid to touch it as if its offending me having this thing lurking in it, diseased, afraid to touch it for fear of it hurting as its gone bright yellow with a dark purple edge around the area where the biopsy was removed. This little 5mm slice that is a direct line to the possible life changer inside. The little 5mm slice that doesn’t want to stay closed, wants to gape like a teeny tiny red mouth that mouths the words “you’re going to die” if I look at it. Every time I remove the plaster then take my bra off it pulls open again gawping, taunting. (I must buy steri strips). I’ve taken to gagging it with a rectangular fabric plaster.
Every time my phone rings I jump, I’m just waiting, I figure if I don’t hear anything by Tuesday then the news is good. I had the biopsy Wednesday afternoon, so they would have gotten it to the lab on Thursday possibly tested it then, maybe Friday. They don’t give people bad news on a Friday because it would leave you hanging over the weekend so I’m guessing they would ring on Monday at the latest. Yes if I don’t hear anything by Tuesday I reckon it’s ok.
I’m distracting myself with food, this is not a good move for me, I totter on a binge event that will lead to self loathing & purging. I must not go down this route.
My husband is on edge, he has been a tight ball of anxiety since the hospital. But at least it’s distracting him from other things so he’s not red-zoned for a few days and that’s a bonus. Maybe I should have a cancer scare more often? No, that’s a terrible terrible joke.