Get to know your girls

Yesterday was an interesting day, and since we all know I like to outdo myself, today I decided to top it by locking myself out of my house. When I had a conference call starting in 10 minutes. And in the midst of my sweat-ridden panic realized I hadn't put deoderant on yet.

I eventually got in the house thanks to an accidental spare key in the garage and did also eventually put on some deoderant. You're welcome.


But back to yesterday. This picture provides a bit of explanation. Let's just say it did not involve buying a new watch (though she is pretty- thanks, honey!), but instead a nice little hospital-issued wristband and baring my girls for complete strangers. I think you know what girls I'm talking about. They're the two that are attached to you at all times. That unless you're prone to adult films or wet t-shirt contests you'd prefer NOT to bare for the general public.

This post is probably TMI but whatever. If you can't bare your thoughts (about your chest no less) to a blog-community full of strangers who can you talk to? :)

About 10 days ago I noticed a lump that caused a bit of concern. 48 hours later I was at my OBGYN where they confirmed said lump, killing any hope I had that it was a complete hallucination. One week later (yesterday) I was at the women's radiology clinic for an ultrasound to try and figure out what this new visitor was. Turns out we think he's a fibroadenoma which is nothing more than a benign tumor. Apparently very common in "women my age".

Typically when these are small they recommend you come in 6 months later and monitor it closely to make sure it doesn't grow/evolve in any way. When they're large they suggest a biopsy to run some further tests. Mine is right in the middle, which means they're leaving it up to me. Seems like an easy decision. I mean, avoiding needles and knives is usually the prefered route in any major decision making process. But I come from a family of worriers. And let's be honest, since the birth of the monkey I've been known to worry from time to time. Manically even, which is why it's so surprising I'm not the least bit worried about this.

So, it looks like I'll be going under the knife. I figure it's worth the peace of mind. And a day off work.

The moral of this story is- check your girls. You never know what you might find.