St. Baldrick’s Foundation

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Women's Writes: the lady doctor and cysts at 18.

So, today is the 5th of the month, and on this FABULOUS blog, called Shine that I stumbled upon, they have created Women's Writes. So, every 5th of the month, they have a post that links a whole lot of people to eachother and they write about... you got it, women's rights. Creative, eh?

So, today, I am taking part. And I am just saying... I have been to the ob/gyn a LOT in my 23 years.

And it's something that everyone should be doing. Once a year, if not more (and trust me, right now, thank you pap smears, it's definitely more). I actually prefer to be going to the ob/gyn vs. my primary care dr. Strange? Some people say yes. And I, say absolutely not.

Because my lady dr is a rockstar. And he is a HE. Which I never thought I would do, ever. But I am. You know, having a male as a lady doctor. He is more concerned with making sure that the rest of me is working before dealing with his area. Because if the rest of me isn't working, then his area is definitely not going to be working. He sends me for blood tests, and tells me to get my butt to the gym, and explains lab values. Like I said. Rock. Star.

So, a couple of years ago, my first lady dr found a mass in my breast. She watched it, sent me to a breast clinic (which at the age of 17 is the SCARIEST place ever. There's all these women there, and you're thinking, holy cow, my boobs are going to not be quite like they are right now for the rest of my life, what the heck?! And holy cow, there's people here with cancer and I'm only 17 and I can't have cancer, and OMG).
Anyways. So she sends me to a breast clinic. And after 2 years, the mass/cyst had grown enough slash had grown a LOT over a 6 month period that the breast doctor people decided to take it out.

Which means, surgery. And taped up boobs for a week. And no heavy lifting (yes, I did use that to my advantage for a while as I was serving at a restaurant. Thanks to all who carried my trays).

What this means is that after every single doctor, med student, ultrasound tech, breast surgeon, plastic surgeon and anyone else who wanted to, saw my breasts, felt them, and whatever else, I am comfortable.

I am not comfortable with pre-op nurses who decide that at the age of 18, before they wheel you into surgery, should tell you that, "Don't worry, they have made great progress in the world of breast cancer..." After every single doctor has told you "not to worry, it's not cancer."

So, ladies, speak up. Don't let someone who doesn't really know anything about your history tell you something that is 1) not applicable to you, and 2) totally freak you out.

But, make sure you are checking yourself. And going to the lady Dr.. And making sure that you maintain a great relationship with that office, the nurse practitioner, and the physician assistants. And seriously, speak up for yourself. Which can be hard to do when someone is playing around inside of you with metal tools, but honestly, it's the most important part. Because wouldn't you rather know what was going on with the inside of you, especially when it came to the lady parts? I know I would. So, I do.

3 comments:

  1. Good post. Your making me feel totally guily! Due to school and not working full time I am lacking insurance and have not gone to the doc since I have been with Martin. You just made me feel increadibly guilty not doing so. I will make an appointment as soon as I get hired! Ps do you know of any great openings at the med??

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  2. Ooooh Cass, it's ok. You just gotta make sure that nothing goes wrong, and since I had that scare at 17/18.. you can best believe that I am LOVING my lady doctor at least twice a year

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  3. I love it! Making my appt is what saved my life. :)

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