More Tests I Can't Study For

Second verse, same as the first.  Another ultrasound (warm gel, this time -- you can always tell the finer establishments by their upgraded amenities), and another biopsy.  I had expected this biopsy to be done during a mammogram -- kind of a catch and release program -- but it was done under ultrasound, just like the last one.

It seems pretty evident that there's lots to look at under the magic wand -- other than the obvious, I mean.  And I'm told I'll be scheduled for an MRI to follow.  My research indicates that's all about lymph nodes;  it's hard to know whether they saw something they'd like to follow up on, or whether that's all about ruling things out.  Naturally, the docs (two radiologists, this time -- both broads) and technicians (only one of those) won't have a meaningful conversation with you.  When I asked what they were looking at so intently, the response was that they were deciding on the optimal location for the biopsy.  I refrained from a "well, duh" response, as the doc was the one with the needle in hand!

On the upside, they got what they were looking for;  there are definitely microcalcifications in the samples, this go-round. They put a rush on the analysis in the hope that The Dutchman will receive the results by the 17th -- our second date.  If that doesn't happen, I imagine there won't be much to talk about.  I hate those awkward silences.

So, I'm now the proud owner of two identical adjacent puncture wounds in my right boob. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was part of a soft core version of the Twilight saga.