Last Friday I went for my first mammogram. Yesterday I got a letter in the mail stating that they noticed something suspicious and to please call the office.
I knew my self-righteous, cavalier attitude last week would end up biting me in the ass.
I'm healthy! I eat blueberries! I breast-fed! I never smoked! I quit drinking almost 10 years ago! I'm normal weight! No family history!
So, as an obsessively anxious person by nature, I am not happy that I have to wait all weekend to schedule another mammogram.
My husband says, "oh it's probably nothing - they have to re-do these all the time." What the hell does he know? I'm already planning my funeral.
It probably is "just nothing". But if the John Robshaw queen sheets (that are 1/2 off) don't sell today - I'm taking them home.