Grown and Worried

Sadly, this may be a repetitive theme on my blog but I have to say it again: I am surprised by the amount of fear associated with getting older. I know that many people associate youth with freedom and to an extent, I do too. At 20, I remember feeling really free speeding through New Orleans in Workman's SUV, him a little drunk and me with no fear that we could crash. At the same time, the last 20 years of my life have been stuffed with anxiety around money and success and goals and love and so on. For some reason, I believed I'd feel more fearless as I got older. I'm finding the opposite to be true. It seems like everyday presents something new to be fearful about. 

Tonight's fear de jure comes from anxiety around my mammogram. The mammogram itself was such a nightmare that I'm fearful about my results. At 41, shouldn't I be planning a girl's trip or doing something else that a middle-aged woman secure in her existence should be doing? I guess not because it's midnight and I'm unnerved, blogging in the dark about my mammogram. And if it weren't the mammogram it would be something else. I'm ready for the footloose and fancy free period of my life. I am all cried out and all worried out. Where is the grown woman happy and fun? Let's get to it already. PLEASE. 

That is all. 

Not The Gram pt. 2

I had my second mammogram today, and I should have known that it was going to be a doozy when I didn't have any anxiety around it. I had one last year, so I knew how the show was supposed to go. With that being said, I still ended up anxious, panicked, and in tears. 

The woman who did my mammogram last year had just left before I checked in, which was a shame because, even though I panicked last year as well, she was a nice island lady. She gave me a hug and told me to walk more. Needless to say, this new lady was not her. She asked me my weight, and I told her it's a lot, but I have lost a little because I am on a GLP-1. She then began to tell me this horrifying story about the people she has heard of who have taken GLP-1s and gone blind! 

"I heard about one guy who went completely blind," she said nonchalantly. "Then a patient told me she knew one lady that lost one of her eyes."

This comment woke my anxiety up immediately, and it only got worse as she roughly contorted my boobs into that machine. I didn't remember the last one hurting like this one did. It was like she was trying to get my whole collar in the shot. Then she pinched me with the machine, and I screamed! She apologized, but then proceeded to pull on my arm all weird. I eventually needed a break to sit down and cry hysterically, a little something I do when my anxiety hits the roof. 

Once the mammogram was finally over, she said that I would hear something in a week and I would get a letter in the mail. 

"I didn't get a letter last year," I said, suspiciously. 

"Yeah, they will send you a letter. Some older people need a letter and don't look online."

This statement made my anxiety feel like it was shooting out of the top of my head and through the ceiling! On top of this, the lady from last year looked at my images and said that they looked good. This lady didn't do that. I can't tell if it is because they didn't look good and she didn't want to be the one to tell me, or because she had no desire to put my mind at ease. 

After this mammogram, my body was sore like I had been in a fight. My aunt offered to take me to get food, but my shoulder locked up and felt so bad from when she pulled on my arm that she had to bring me home! As I lay here typing this, everything aches. I haven't even had time to go into full hysterical mode over my results. I am just lying here, trying not to make things worse. 

As horrible as this was, I have to remind you all that mammograms are super serious and part of the whole lady experience. You have to go get them done. Hopefully, next year, I won't have to undergo a beating to get one. 

Not the Gram!

When I was a little girl, I used to literally kick and scream when my grandma would try to press my hair. This was also my reaction when I had to go with my aunty to her Saturday morning aerobics classes. My aunty and grandma saw the obesity train coming and tried to turn it around, but this would involve me squeezing my kiddie, frumpy, round body into a leotard that was two sizes too small. Anyway, I say all this to say that at 41, I find myself kicking and screaming every time I realize that I have yet again put off scheduling my mammogram. My first time was last year. It was okay. But I don't want to get another one right now. I just don't want to! 

And yes, I know that it is essential preventative care. Coffee's good friend just died of breast cancer that spread to her bones. She had to go into hospice care, and her power of attorney didn't waste any time cutting the treatment meds and unplugging stuff. He let me know that she had passed on, and it reminded me that I still have to schedule my mammogram. I was supposed to have gotten it done in the spring. I don't know. I'm very stressed out, and I am not in the mental place to take on any more bad news, should there be any. I don't want to deal with it. 

This AKA who went to college with me died of breast cancer, and her friends throw a fundraiser in her name every year. In the promo pictures they use, she looks so young because she died young. I didn't even know her, and I find those pics to be heartbreaking. I try to quickly scroll past them. She has been an annual reminder that I have to get this stuff done since before I was even old enough to be screened. 

Sigh. Obviously, after taking this time to complain, I have to schedule my mammogram today. I don't want to. I will just get it done like I get everything else I want to get done, done: kicking and screaming. 

Mammogram Part 2

The day of my mammogram, I prayed that God decrease my anxiety so I could go, get it done, and not reschedule. I was feeling antsy seeing that I'd had a weird dream that I was afraid could be a foreshadowing. I dreamed that me and my grandma were at the park and I was telling her how I was afraid of my mammogram results. She then reached over, squeezed my left breast, and a thick, red, waxy material came out of it. I woke up, not believing that could be a good sign. 

As the time rolled around to go to my appointment, I felt oddly calm. I credit this to my aunty and nephew coming with me, even though they stayed in the car. The doctor's office was oddly quiet. It was towards the end of the day. I was apprehensive, but my anxiety was at bay. 

Let me just say thank you to the sweet Jamaican woman who performed my mammogram. She was patient and kind to me as my anxiety eventually showed up and took over the show. With my left breast awkwardly compressed in the mammogram machine, I started crying and had the urge to rip my boob out of the machine (which would have been painful and possibly would have left me maimed) and run. 

Once it was over, I was told my results would be available in a week. So I was shocked to get an email the next day saying my results were available online. I immediately rolled over and called my gyno office. 

"I can interpret your results, but moving forward,  we probably aren't the appropriate place to call to get your mammogram results," a doctor who wasn't my doctor said before putting me on hold. Uh, okay. After about 30 seconds she popped back on the line and told me everything was fine and to get a mammogram again in a year. That's when I started crying. 

You want to talk about literal tears of joy?! I was so grateful to God. I truly didn't have the bandwidth to deal with more bad news or another health issue. I'm already overwhelmed trying to lose weight and keep my marbles.

A few moments later,  I dried my eyes and took a deep breath. Another fine crisis avoided to be readdressed next year. 

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Bye-Bye Bra

After getting out of the pool at the gym I tried something that I have not done since I was in the second grade: I didn't put on a bra.
I know, I know. For a woman of my age and size this is a definite no-no. I would not suggest if you are anything above a B cup that you try this at home. I didn't plan on leaving the gym without my bra, but I have to say, I just DID NOT feel like putting it on. I was still damp, I was ready to go home, and on mistake, I had walked out of the shower without putting it on, and I didn't want to expose innocent bystanders to my boobs in the locker area.
I have to say, I was truly surprised with the end result. In my black summer dress, my boobs almost looked perky. Without hard nipples, you could not even tell that they were pointing south!
Walking into the grocery store after the gym, I felt liberated. That bra burning nonsense of the 60s actually made sense to me as I tossed a package of chicken legs in my cart. I liked the way it felt to have my boobs jiggling freely in public. I actually felt more confident than I do in the super support bras that a woman of my...stature is forced to wear.
So that day I decided: no more bras! I kicked myself for having bought a $40 bra the day before from Lane Bryant. I packed my gym bag, minus the bra, and proudly pranced to the pool. Afterward, I put on my gray summer dress, looked in the mirror, and had to stop myself from screaming. In gray, my boobs were a totally different story. I'd say an honest one. The girls dangled lifelessly from my chest like two half-empty two liters.
In shame, I exited the gym and headed to the store, feeling like EVERYONE was staring at me.
Needless to say, my bra is securely packed in my gym bag. I've learned my lesson.