Put on your big girl pants

Like most mums, I’m busy. I feel like I run from work, to school for pick up, to home, all the while keeping on top of washing and keeping small people fed with food they won’t disregard immediately. If something comes up that is outside my normal plan, I tend to ignore it or make a note to deal with it later when its more convenient, if that’s possible. I can only keep so many balls up in the air at once.

When something recently came up that I was not expecting, my first thought was, I can’t deal with this right now. I’ll get around to it later. But then I remembered something that made me stop, and pick up the phone to make an appointment. I was scared, but thought it’s probably not a great idea to be an ostrich about this and stick my head in the sand, pretending that all is ok.

My doctor removed what she thought was a basal cell carcinoma, a rather scary sounding name for a skin cancer. As a fair-skinned redhead, who has actually gotten sunburnt INDOORS when running on a treadmill next to a window, the thought of skin cancer terrifies me. Cancer, full stop, terrifies me.

Thankfully, the little bastard was removed, she checked a whole bunch of freckles and moles and gave me the all clear. All was good. We got it all. I took a deep breath and got back on the hamster wheel, with a new little scar on my collarbone. Looks kind of like a vampire tried to bite me, but couldn’t quite coordinate and get the location right.

Then I found a lump.

In my breast.

I stuck my head in the sand for about a couple of weeks. I didn’t want to think about what that could be. Who the fuck wants to entertain ideas of what that could be?

One conversation with the “c” word in it with from your doctor is enough.

But I put on my big girl pants and called my doctor and got it checked. She said, “we don’t take chances with breasts. If there’s a lump, we get it checked. No arguments. Call the clinic today and make an appointment”.

So now I’m playing the waiting game.

I’ve had the ultrasound. I’ve had the biopsy. I’m trying to not think about it until the results come back. Fingers crossed its away from the scary end of the scale. I don’t want to hear the word “cancer” come out of my GP’s mouth ever again.

So do me a favour, and check your boobs. Check your moles and freckles. If something doesn’t seem right, get it checked by your doctor.

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