October. Pink ribbons everywhere. She thought about this as she showered. They were always talking about how important monthly self breast exams were. When was the last time she had checked? Did it matter? It couldn't happen to her. But, slowly she reached up to touch her right breast. Holding her right arm over her head she tried to remember the numerous pictures of how to do this correctly. Everything felt fine so she moved on to the left. There she felt it. It felt like a grape, where there shouldn't be a grape. Her stomach clenched involuntarily. Panic. It couldn't be. She started to feel dizzy. Who had the bright idea of recommending women do this while standing in a slippery shower?

Calm down. It's probably nothing. Calm down. Turn off the water. Sit on the edge of the tub. Calm down. Do not be a drama queen. It's probably nothing.

All attempts to think of anything else failed. Work would help. It would give her something else to think about. Was it wrong to hope that someone had been raped so that she could have something else to focus on?

She arrived at work to find nothing but paperwork on her desk. Well, that's something.

She made it until 10:30 am, before the panic overtook her again. She went to Cragen, told him she wasn't feeling well and needed to go home. She needed to get this checked out. She needed to know, TODAY, that this was nothing. She needed to know NOW.

Back at her apartment, she put in a call to her doctor. They could get her in to see a nurse practitioner at two o'clock.

Relax. It's nothing.

"I found a lump." She actually said it out loud.

"Well, take a deep breath. Eighty-five percent of these things turn out to be nothing." the nurse practitioner explained. "Now lie back and I'll do an exam."

Maybe she wouldn't find anything. Maybe she had imagined it. How embarrassing.

But she lingered in the same place on her left breast. "It's probably just a cyst, could be inflamed. The skin feels a little warm." She smiled reassuringly. I want you to make an appointment for a mammogram just to be on the safe side. But I don't think there's anything to worry about.

Ah, a reprieve. No, not a reprieve. That would imply that this was just a delay. But the medical professional had told her not to worry. So, it wasn't a reprieve. But it wasn't an "all clear" either. She called from the waiting room to schedule the mammogram, thinking they could do it today. They couldn't see her until January. Well, that was another sign not to worry. If the nurse practitioner thought for a moment that this was serious she probably would have gotten her an appointment right away.

She learned over the next three months how to not think about it. But that word "reprieve" kept creeping into her head.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

She had never had a mammogram before, and felt a little guilty about it. She was well over the age of 40, and should probably done this already. And she felt a little nervous; she didn't know what to expect. But the whole procedure went off without a hitch. She asked the technician if she had seen anything, not realizing that she wasn't allowed to say anything.

"No, nothing jumps out at me."

So that's it. I've just been being silly, stressing out over nothing, she thought.

But, a week later, there was the message in her voice mail. "Hello, Ms. Benson. I'm calling from the woman's health center. The radiologist has reviewed your file and would like you to come in for a few additional images."