I left healthcare about four years ago, but I was proud to be the pediatric nurse that I had become. I did home health visits in the final few years of my patient care days. I didn’t sit back and do my charting during my patient’s infusions; I would read them one of their favorite books. I believed in the personal touch. Listening to my HMO’s commercial, you would think that they did too.
So, you can imagine how appalled I was to open the postcard type memo regarding most recent mammogram. I almost didn’t even read it right away, but then wondered what appointment I had forgotten. Mixed in with the junk mail and bills was a little note to tell me that there was a “finding” that required “further studies” to be done. What ever happened to you doctor calling you up to explain your lab, or other test, results? To top it off I had to wait three weeks for these additional tests to be done.
The past three weeks has allowed for a lot of reflection, introspection, and loss of sleep. I live such a healthy life. I exercise for periods greater than 1 hour on six, of the seven days, each week. I take the stairs, and eat pretty healthy. I drive safe, wearing my seatbelt, and following the rules. So, how could I possibly be cancer? My kids need me! But, you just never know…
Today, I had my breast mashed in many directions. The Radiology Tech kept asking if I was okay. What did it matter; she was required to compress the tissue that hard to get a good picture. Actually, it was five good pictures. I can take the pain. After the radiologist read those shots, I then had an ultrasound. At least they were being thorough. And finally, with relief I headed out the door and drove to the track.
I put my hair up and did a warm up mile and began a Yasso 800. I ran two glorious laps around the track as quick as I could do them, followed by a recovery lap of jogging. I repeated this combination three times and then walked around the track to cool-down. Each of the three Yasso 800s was like one of those sleepless, worry filled weeks. It was painful but necessary. I am now in the cool-down phase and finally able to rest and recover. At least I sure hope I will sleep.