@Raffs, thank you. No more birds, and for the most part, no fretting. I went back to the Pink Ribbon place yesterday for another mammogram. The tech seemed to be missing a few clues, as she sat me down and asked me to fill her in on the story so far. I did: "I had a routine screening, was referred for a sonogram because of an orb that was sighted. That was determined to be benign, but another area was sighted that was of concern, and they wanted a close-up of that. This is why I'm here."
She said she would be putting some markers on me, the first on the nipple, and then she asked me where the second should go. I was puzzled. The question struck me as being akin to, "Do you know how to fly this thing?" Then she asked me if I'd found a lump.
I said, "No, it turned up on the films."
"Well, I need some reference point to put this on there. It's so your doctor can tell what they're looking at."
Puzzled shrug.
"Then I can't put this on there." Sadly throws the second marker away.
Tit-in-a-wringer. Tight. "Stay there."
Seriously?
After several films, she tells me that I can get dressed, and will wait out in the waiting room while the radiographer reads the films. Okay. I'm behind the curtain of the tiny changing closet re-dressing, and she says, "No, you're supposed to wait out in the waiting room." I realize that either she thinks I'm really stupid, or communication is very challenging for her.
I explain that my dress has many tiny buttons, and I'll be out in a moment.
Once out, I ask how long this will take, and am told about 20 minutes. Forty minutes later, she comes out, calls me back, and explains that the radiologist has read the films and reported to my doctor, and I can get the results from her.
I call my doctor's office, which is closed, and call the alternate number they give. Doc says she's still in the operating room, but calls her office to see if anyone is still there and can give her the results. I get a call back in a few minutes and she says that the radiologist said everything was benign, but she's not convinced that they were looking at the right spot. I tell her that the tech was asking me where she was supposed to be taking pictures, and the doc said that she gave very detailed instructions about precisely where to shoot the pictures. She says she will go over to their office tomorrow (now today) and look at the films herself, and call me.
And I drive the rest of the way back to my office repeating, in varying volumes, emphases, and degrees of incredulity, "You've got to be kidding me." Out loud. Out-sometimes-very loud. Interspersed with, "You've got to be ___ kidding me."
So here we are. I still haven't made it back to PT. I fly out for my three-month check-up tomorrow, at which time I had hoped to be putting all medical adventures behind me. Nope. The drama continues.
I'm walking better, but the stiff-knee sensation continues. ROM continues to be a non-contender. I know that we're encouraged not to compare progress, but it's a bit like taking your dog to an obedience class and getting your niggling suspicions reinforced that much as you love your dog, it's a bit thick. And even when the instructor tries to reassure you that you shouldn't compare your dog to others, you wonder why it's you to whom the instructor is saying this. Except you really don't.
United States
