The fun thing about writing your own blog, in addition to amusing the world with your witty discourse and poorly taken photos, is that you can also see how many visitors have come to your site, and from where. Thankfully having such an obscure blog name means your friends can also type "Heffalumps and Happy Times" in to Google from most places in the world and it usually pops up as the first entry - no fancy SEO techniques needed!
The downside of this, is that anyone can read your blog, and you can also see what keywords people have searched for. The
charity haircut was quite popular, as well as searches for
Korean toilets, however one of my blog's most
popular posts was found through key words such as: flashing breasts, boobs, and open window. Ah, my first day at university in Martinique. The searchers must have been sorely disappointed.
So, given the popularity of breasts on this blog, and also the amount of comfort I received from reading other women's blogs and comments on the subject, I felt it would be cathartic to write about my own experience of a surgical biopsy in China, and to also act as a reminder to myself that I have an adverse reaction to both steri-strips and a certain kind of antibiotics. I might even get a few more page views from creepy people for good measure.
1. The Discovery
Lumps are never a good thing for a woman to find in the chest area, except for the occasional time an errant chocolate chip is inadvertently caught between bra and breast following a Netflix binge (or so I've heard from a friend...). Mine had popped up a few years ago, and after being practically frog marched to the hospital by Andrew and a friend visiting at the time, and several scans and pokes later, I was told it was all benign and I just need to have it checked every 6 months. Which, thanks to health insurance and several reminders, I did.
I therefore expected this last hospital visit to be much of the same: cold, sticky gel, blurry ultrasounds and free polo mints before you're sent home with a "see you in 6 months". Which was fine, until the sonographer and doctor started discussing their findings.
"Yes, quite large. Actually there's two, possibly more."
"Possibly surgery...".
"Um... hello? I can understand Mandarin!"
As my poor baby boy had previously had on operation on his back to have two tumors removed, my Chinese vocabulary in this area was pretty specialised. And whilst I was a tiny bit proud of my comprehension skills, I didn't like what I was hearing.
Now the doctors in China are not particularly known for their bedside manner, and although the doctor I had was fairly gentle, the news was still delivered rather bluntly. He explained (in English) that several lumps had grown rather quickly over the last 12 months, and given my family history with the big C, he wanted to cut them out and test. "Just to be on the safe side, as it's very likely you'll get cancer during your lifetime". It's always lovely to receive such encouraging words. "Could [I] come in after Spring Festival next week?" The surgeon was only having a few days off for Chinese New Year, but as my brother was due to arrive in a few days, I managed to book an appointment after his flight home. Blood tests were drawn, surgical knives were sterilised (hopefully), and several forms signed. It's times like this that I'm thankful for my faith, an excellent insurance plan and a sympathetic mother.
"Oh Ems, it'll be reet."
Reet, indeed.
And in case you needed a reminder, check your boobs. This story ends well, but as Dr B. said, it's better to be safe than sorry!