Because we don’t have a primary care doctor yet in Vermont (we are on a waiting list), my only doctor so far is my gynecologist. I have been listing her as primary care. So there was some confusion as to who was going to tell me the results of my test.

The Breast Health Navigator when I talked to her on the Eve of the Air Compressor wasn’t sure if she was going to be called down from the deck of H.M.S. Boobyvise to call me with the news, or if the task would go to my gyno, who is not affiliated with the hospital in Bennington.

As I was leaving the biopsy room, the support lady asked me who I wanted to deliver the results when they found out in three days or so,  my doctor or the BHN. Again, hushed tones and virtual hand patting. They must have known the jist, I maintain. I didn’t care who gave me the news. I just wanted the news ASAP. I replied “I just want the news as soon as they get it, I don’t care if they hire”-here, I paused, as my ginger ale addled blood sugar allowed my brain to riffle through 48 years of pop culture and celebrity names for a real humdinger, the only name that popped into my head was “David Niven to call me”.  David Niven? I don’t know what dusty attic in my brain coughed that name up, and besides, he died when I was twelve, so the likelihood of SVMC hiring him to call me with my breast biopsy report seemed very slim. The support lady gave me the side-eye, and said that they would either have my doctor or the BHN call me ASAP, since she was pretty sure David Niven wouldn’t be available.

Three days later, my gyno called with the news. I have a DCIS, Ductal Carcinoma In Situ, abnormal cells inside a milk duct, considered the earliest form of breast cancer. It is non-invasive and has a low risk of becoming invasive. To simplify, the way I see it, some calcifications got together and formed a gang, hiding out in a dark duct, to talk about maybe invading or how cool it would be to invade but ultimately hanging around and settling down and maybe farming, like the Anglo Saxons in England. Praise Odin I didn’t get the Viking cells, they get around.

So, I would have to have a lumpectomy (possibly the ugliest word ever besides maybe crampon). My gyno picked the surgeon, and said I would be getting a call to schedule seeing the surgeon, which I did, (still not David Niven calling).

Find out what the consultation was like in the next post!

Blog Reprobation witch's tit #breastcancer #mammoram #dcis #davidniven #witchstit #biopsy