It’s November!! In so many ways, October feels like the "hump month" out of the school season, doesn’t it?
October also marked my two-year anniversary of being (visibly) skin-cancer free. At my bi-annual check-up, I didn’t even have to have a biopsy, which made me ridiculously happy. Those puppies take forever to heal. While there were no moles to remove, I do have an anomaly of pigmentation on my lower lip that has been documented and photographed for future reference. It’s a "freckle" now, but since it has not always been there, it garners very close monitoring. I told the dermatologist that I had no desire to have it biopsied until such time it warranted serious consideration because simply, I am vain. If in the future it does have to be removed, I want to be able to have them enhanced into the finest pair of duck lips Facebook has ever seen.
October also ended up breaking my five year streak of going without a mammogram. My last one was in 2007, and it was required by the RE since I was then 40 and they didn’t want to help me get pregnant with a donor baby if I was going to end up screwing myself up by getting breast cancer in the middle of the well-intended plans. Or something like that. Unfortunately, my mammogram wasn’t because I was being a responsible woman in my 40s and it was Pink Month. Instead, my exam was diagnostic in nature and not preventative.
Sometime during the 3rd week of my cycle (and this is relevant when it came to trying to diagnose me), I suddenly had sharp and excruciating pain in my left breast. How excruciating? I described it to my gynecologist’s PA as, "It’s like Freddy Kruger was scraping his knifey nails on the inside of my boob trying to get out" kind of pain. It started on a Friday evening. I thought it was a fluke as Aitch had been leaning against that side of me while we were watching TV. The next morning while I was taking a shower, I realized it was no fluke when I raised my arms to wash my hair. The searing pain was enough for me to go around for the next three days cupping my breast in my hand to immobolize it. I was totally sexy.
It was then I had my appointment with the PA who went through a physical examination and question and answer period, but we were no closer to solving they why. We didn’t think it was hormonal (see previous paragraph), and she didn’t think it was cancer, but that’s when I was ordered to get a diagnostic mammo for confirmation. During the following weeks, I was still cupping if I leaned over and I was washing my hair in the shower with one hand. If you don’t think that’s difficult, try it once. My period came and went, and eventually the pain just went as well. I’ve had a full cycle since and not a twinge has returned. The pain is unexplained, but my mammo came back normal.
As I mentioned at the beginning, Hump Month is over with school. Doodicus is settling into his routines, but it has not been without tears, tantrums or defiance. We are meeting with the school counselor, psychologist and his teachers in a couple of weeks and at that time I am certain they will announce that his ADHD disability does not qualify him for an IEP. Instead we will shoot for a 504 Plan. His home room teacher is wonderful, but the supporting staff for his grade are evading my requests for informal accommodations. Bringing the hammer down with the phrase "as required by law" makes me uncomfortable, but that’s what it has come down to. Doodicus continues to meet with the psychologist two hours away on a monthly basis, and I continue to have a mom-crush on him. Even the psychiatrist redeemed himself in an email when he all but called the people at my insurance company who I’m battling with over some prescription coverage, assholes. (I’m looking at you, Coventry Healthcare of Nebraska (Coventry = Asshole)).
Finally, you can rest easy: I will not be participating in NaBloWriMo. Frequency of any upcoming posts may be only related to a funk finally dispersing.