Last night I removed the gauze from the biopsy site and my breast didn’t look too bad. Big bruise and old blood, but no ooze. Took my first post-biopsy shower this morning and was feeling pretty good about things when the doctor called with the results.
The didn’t find cancer, but I do have atypical ductal hyperplasia, which is defined as a “premalignant lesions of the breast ducts.” The doctor described it as a suspicious proliferation of normal cells that could become cancerous.
Since I’m childless, my breast ducts have never been called upon to do a damn thing, and THIS is how they repay me. It wasn’t enough to be cursed with freakishly large breasts that prohibit me from buttoning blouses, wearing belts, and having men look me in the eye.
So the next step is to have those “cells gone wild” removed and hope to God the doctor doesn’t find anything else.
I’m waiting to hear when I’m scheduled for outpatient surgery, which I expect to be some time next week. At least the doctor’s going to let me sleep through this round and the stitches will be internal.
And on another positive note, I’m feeling less murderous toward the doctor who first evaluated my mammograms and started me down this horribly scary path. If I manage to avoid breast cancer, I just may have to thank him for saving my life.