A Black Hole (of Emptiness)

I have this numb feeling inside.  I feel like I’m not a real person right now, like it doesn’t matter what I say or how I feel.  I’m not really HERE.  The only way to explain my doctor’s appointments is that they looked through me, never at me.

I don’t know what to do, where to go.  I sat in a room for 45 minutes with a specialist and listened to her say over and over that the lumps were “normal” and “they have always been there”.  It didn’t matter how many times I said “NO, they haven’t ALWAYS been there, the first lump appeared in October and has grown.  The second lump appeared in March and has grown.”

I was told perhaps I was feeling my ribs – as if I’m a complete idiot.  Or perhaps I was feeling a milk duct…  I’ve nursed for 48 months of my life – I KNOW what a milk duct feels like, and if it’s feeling like THIS – then there is a problem with the milk duct.

She drew a picture of a breast for me, and I wanted to scream curse words at her.  I know what it looks like, and what it feels like.  I’ve been doing breast self-exams for 18 years.  I KNOW WHAT IS DIFFERENT.

Otto said she used the words “it’s NORMAL for you” over 10 times.  I cannot understand HOW someone who has touched me ONCE can say what is normal, isn’t that the reason that we (women) are suppose to give OURSELVES self-exams monthly?  So WE know what is normal and when something changes?

I have multiple friends who have had “small lumps of dense tissue” – much smaller than mine, and every single one of them have had a doctor say: “let’s just take it out and not worry about it, it’s safer and better that way.”  Meanwhile, I can’t get a specialist to take me seriously.  It’s like I’m a crazy person who they are just trying to pacify to get out of their office.

Otto sat with me in the lobby of University Midtown Hospital for almost 15 minutes, because I was crying so hard he was afraid to let me drive home (it’s not easy in Atlanta traffic on a GOOD day, much less at rush hour when the driver is in tears).  I am so thankful to BooSheep for talking to me the entire drive back to our apartment.

I am blessed, beyond measure, to have a wonderful Midwife at Emory OBGYN coordinating my care.  When I saw her the next day, she listened to what Otto and I had to say and gave us one last option.  It’s an out of network specialist (ie: very expensive), but someone the Midwife trusts explicitly – she worked in a practice that referred to this doctor as a “first opinion” before coming to Emory.  She also had a plan of attack – we measure for the next 2-3 months EVERYTHING about the lumps, and possibly have a second mammogram/ultrasound.  THEN we visit the new specialist with 4-5 months of measurable data.

I can’t say I’m happy, though.  I’m drained.  I don’t understand.  I hate that I feel like I am in a fight for a basic quality of care and a basic level of respect from the specialists.

So now we wait.  Otto and I feel pretty comfortable that it’s not cancer at this point, though the fact that no biopsy was done doesn’t help (and, as a side note – only 90% of breast cancer shows up in mammograms, the other 10% does not).  Otto has offered to biopsy me like the mice, but that just seems a little excessive, plus, since I don’t have a tail – I’m not sure he’d know how to hold me still.  😉

Seriously, however, I’m not comfortable with the waiting.  I trust the Midwife, but I’m not comfortable.  Just keep praying.  Last night, at GO’s preschool’s Mum Night, one of the women talked about her son being diagnosed with a rare disease, but she said “I knew it was the right time for GOD to reveal what was wrong with my son, and the doctor that touched him – she had never seen a case before, but she KNEW what my son had.”

I don’t think I have a rare disease, but I do feel like God is choosing not to reveal what the issue is right now.  I don’t know why, I’ve certainly never prayed for patience, mainly because I didn’t want God to actually try and teach it to me, but it looks like that’s what we’re in for right now.  So I’ll trust the Great Physician, even as I don’t really trust the ones here on earth.

~Mummy Butterfly  )i(


3 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Malenki on 20 04 12 at 7:13 pm

    Okay, after the last paragraph, I feel better. But I’m still really confused about why all of Emory seems to ignore all the patients in our family … It’s like we have invisible red ‘X’s’ on our foreheads or something, that tell them we’re just neurotic hypochondriacs who don’t know when something is wrong with our own bodies. Argh.

    As you can see, I am struggling with taking your offense. I am learning patience all over again with this situation – with my own, it seemed easier to learn to live with the symptoms my doctors refused to label, and in the end to live without doctors for the most part. This is harder, because watching you deal with it is more painful than going through it myself. I am confused, but I know that God knows, and that even if we never get an answer, He is good, and He withholds nothing of Himself from you because He loves you – infinitely more than I do.

    All that because – I know I was supposed to call you, but a friend took me up on MOM’s offer for me to take her Senior pictures with DAD’s camera (nice, eh? 🙂 ) and I now have a week’s worth of work to finish tonight … because I had strep most of the week and have been sleeping for oh, two days. Ha! God has a sense of humor, doesn’t He? Guess this is just His way of saying: I’m in control, and I give you the time and energy you need, whether you feel like it or not. 🙂

    Anyway … I love you and am praying for you constantly. Wish I could do something, something, something – but thankful you are in His loving hands!

    ❤ always, me


  2. Posted by cookie on 20 04 12 at 9:40 pm

    … just loving and praying and wishing that I had the words to say or knew what to do … always …


  3. praying for you friend…{{HUGS}}


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