Today I face everyone’s fear – age old disease. We kid ourselves that when we get older, we won’t be the ones to succumb to certain illnesses, or have wrinkles (we would fight them to the bitter end with a myriad of potions and lotions!) or show our grey hair. Well, I don’t have grey hairs yet and I’m heading for 40 at the end of this year. My teeth are in a reasonably good condition considering the apoplectic amount of sweets I consumed in my short life! Wrinkles don’t really concern me as I have no interest in swathing lotion over my face for the next forty years.
No, my great battle, though age defining, can occur in both the young and old. It is the feeling of something inside you that you can’t control. The knowledge of pains in the hands, stiff creaky joints when you wake up and the sudden rush to use the bathroom more frequently after a good laugh. All these I live with, sharpening my awareness that cod liver oil is necessary, thank goodness without the spoon full of sugar as modern medicine provides it in capsule form and vitamins are like mini lifesavers for sluggish bodies. These ailments don’t scare me though. It’s the hidden element, the one you hear about and discuss with your friends to seek their professional opinion before concerning the medical profession with your worries.
It’s the lump in the breast. My monster, the dark shadow following me around for the past few months that I though I could ignore with many bra changes, debates on how serious could it possibly be and the final act of allowing it to become a reality, consulting my doctor for a touch and feel. Yes, today is my appointment to be scanned and examined properly to see if I have the feared disease that can destroy a life in months, weeks or years of battle. I have to find out if I have an alien in my body hidden away in a growth, like a pod awaiting its grand opening and revealing the secret inside.
I could lie to you and say I’m not afraid, but I am. It’s only a scan. If it is anything, according to my knowledgeable friends, I would have to have an injection into the lump to either drain it if it’s a harmless cyst or a biopsy if it’s something more exciting. Do I sound like a chicken if I say today is the scariest day because it map routes the horror of my future? Would I be completely silly in reckoning that I’m going to be the lucky one and they will say, “Oh Mrs D, you ninny! These are just mammary glands and nothing more. Stop wasting our time.” Will I be the lucky one to walk out without a nightmarish scenario of needles and cuts and medicine in my future?
I will let you know how it turns out.