Diagnosed


I am now officially discharged from the breast clinic; at my visit yesterday the plastic covering was peeled off and I got the results of the biopsy of the lump taken out. The plastic covering was steadily peeled off by the nurse and this was much less of an issue that I thought it would be – it wasn’t particularly painful with only a small bleed from the scar around my areola. You can barely see the scar, especially when compared to the dark bruising of my nipple and the red rash i’ve picked up from the Tegaderm covering. Nice…

My consultant poked around a bit to check how things were healing internally – now this was fucking sore! My poor boob was very painful for the rest of the day and it’s only today that things seem to have calmed down. Anyway, the official verdict on what I had – “Chronic inflammation with a touch of mastitis.” Yes, something different from what I was told before; at least it’s out now and so I will know if anything else pops up that it’s not that. I asked whether it would be likely to reoccur – yes, possibly, but not necessarily in the same place.

I don’t quite understand how I can have mastitis without breastfeeding or a piercing; the “chronic inflammation” I guess is the fibrocystic breast changes I had read about before. It’s all rather confusing.

Anyway, post-boob poke I went into town with Leia Ewok Village and had an awesome evening drinking to excess and making fun of drunken fools stupid enough to try and approach me. I wore the sequinned shorts and was amused to see that wherever I moved about many eyes would follow. Of course, the one you want to notice you never does…

So New Years- I am spending it alone and inside away from the freeeezing weather. I’ve bought myself steak which I will have medium rare with fried potatoes and salad; I plan to do this however my sense of taste and smell is decidedly ropey post-boozing, so I may lay off the steak and have fried eggs instead. Whatever I eat i’m going to drink lots of juice and watch Cleopatra and marvel at Elizabeth Taylor and the awesome costumes. I will not be crying in the corner or staring wistfully into the distance. Hooray.

Here’s to a better year…

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