Biopsy

 The morning of the 25th, I headed to the breast center for my biopsy.  This appointment was actually interesting to me.  The way the equipment was positioned relative to me, the tech, and the radiologist, I could view the ultrasound screen and watch the needle snap out for every sample taken from the mass.  The mass appeared on the ultrasound screen like a tiny ill-defined ghost shaped blip just casually hanging out next to my breast implant.  Every time the radiologist took a sample, the edges of the mass seemed to disappear.  Because the mass was not very defined and was fairly vague on the screen, the radiologist took over 10 sample to be sure he got a good sample from the mass.  By the end of the biopsy, the mass was even harder to identify on the screen.  I was given an ice pack and a compression top and sent home.

When I arrived home, I sat down to finish up some grading I needed to get done for my kids' homeschool courses.  I hadn't been sitting there long when my phone rang.  It was my mom.

I hadn't told my parents about the mass the MRI had identified and I had just got biopsied because my dad had been doctoring for health issues and I didn't want to worry my parents needlessly.  When I saw it was my mom calling, I was hoping she was calling with good news about the testing my dad had done the previous week.  When I heard my mom's voice, I knew good news was not what she had.  My dad had aggressive late-stage incurable lung cancer.  Now was not the time to let them know I'd had a biopsy that morning.  Heart-broken and exhausted, I couldn't dwell on my pending biopsy results.