Monday, January 31, 2011

Run and tell that!

It’s official. My Guy and I moved into our new house this weekend.

Well, more like we started camping at our new house. Since we’re keeping both of our other houses staged, our new house has a bed, a futon, and a ratty old loveseat that the labradoodles use as a chew toy. In addition, there’s a dead squirrel in our front yard.

We are totally Those Neighbors.

But we’re in, and the kitchen is almost fully equipped. There are towels and toilet paper in the bathroom – even if we rigged up a curtain with clothespins and a beach towel. Stay classy, noodleroux.

I’ve been wildly vascillating between a total freakout of the “holy shit, we’ll never get everything done / clean / moved / not crappy” variety and a Zen feeling that we will look back on this time fondly. Also? The move and frantic packing and cleaning have helped divert my attention and provide a calm that only comes with exhaustion.

A few days after the first of the year, in the midst of the new house cleaning and painting, during the most stressful time of the year at Corporate Behemoth, I ran into something. Or, to be more exact, my forearm rammed into a huge lump in my breast. I had a cyst the size of a golf ball. While I am given to exaggeration, I am completely serious here. Golf. Ball.

I had a mammogram. And an ultrasound. And oh, by the way, did I know I had an even bigger cyst right next to the golf ball? A cyst that’s three inches long? Or what about that weird, unidentified mass in the other boob? Had I felt that?

I’m moving. I’m getting married. I don’t have time to deal with these boobie traps.

I had the golf ball aspirated last week, and it refilled. On Wednesday, I’m having both of the cysts – which My Guy and I have named El Cysto and El Nino – aspirated with the help of an ultrasound. And the mystery mass? His name is Kevin, but he prefers to go by Antoine. Like this guy.

Antoine will get a core biopsy, where they take like three chunks out of him, then leave in a piece of titanium so they can track him via mammogram. I wanted to know if this would make airport metal detectors go off, but sadly, the word on the street is a big fat no.

I’ve been really, really angry. This is wholly unfair. I take good care of my body. I’m getting married – I shouldn’t have to explain to the lady doing my dress alterations that the bust might change. I have already filled my shit quota.

And I’ve been scared. I’ve had cysts aspirated before, and it’s truly No Big Deal. It’s sort of like watching a video game, actually – you watch the cyst on the ultrasound and you can see the needle going in. But Antoine, The Mystery Mass? While the specialist thinks he’s either a collapsed cyst or a fibroadenoma, my overactive imagination has taken me to some dark places, where Antoine is armed and dangerous, and not an Internet sensation at all.

But right now? Right now, I’m just looking forward to my left boob not being all cystacular and misshapen from its unwelcome occupants. And I’m glad to be in our house, even if we are camping. We’re about to get three feet of snow, and things could be a lot worse.

But if you would send me good vibes on Wednesday? I’d really appreciate it.


  1. Great news about the new house and moving in and stuff (hope there'll be some "after" photos up soon!).
    And of course I'll be sending good vibes on Wednesday...

  2. I am not waiting till Wednesday. You getting all the good vibes I've got right now. Hang in there and remember to keep breathing.

  3. Cha cha. I had no idea. Praying for you. Hoping you are ready for a great party this weekend!!!!

    Also, I'm sure your serene, yet unfurnished home will be nice, but if you need to escape during the blizard to a house full of kids and crazyness you are welcome! Seriously neighbor if you guys need anything during this storm, don't hesitate to ask!!!!

  4. Sending all sorts of good thoughts your way. Core biopsies are not on my fave list of things to do (from personal experience). Mine all led to having the bumps removed, but ended up all were harmless little buggers.

    Here's hoping Kevin aka Antoine is as harmless, wishing you some more zen, but feeling your anger.

  5. Been lurking (started grad school and got stupid busy) and keeping up. I had to take time for a comment today though. So sorry you're scared and that you even have to go through this. I'll absolutely be thinking of you, homegirl!

  6. Thinking of you...praying and sending good vibes.

    (Billy Idol's playing in the radio..."come on, it's a nice day for a White's a nice day to STAAAART AGAAAAAIIINN! Ow!)

  7. Sending good thoughts your way. Keep a positive thought and focus on all the good things in your life - and there are many.

  8. Good vibes coming your way now and on Wednesday..... best of luck...

  9. I will be praying for you, dearest Cha Cha.

  10. Cha Cha: excite for you that you are now in the new house! One step closer to making your new house a home :)

    Sending every good vibe Ive got and any more I can round up along the way. Cause really? I would ike to take your cyst/Kevin/Antoine out back and shoot him cause we got your back girl true hood style!

  11. Dear Cha Cha,

    I prayed for a snow day ALL DAY yesterday. I feel that God and I are really communicating with each other right now. Since I got my SNOW DAY I am completely available for prayer today. So be prepared, if you start feeling kind of funny squishy it is just cause I am concentrating so hard. I'm not getting fresh, promise.

    xoxo, the Diva

  12. Oh, wait. Today is Tuesday. Well, that's ok, they are pre-Wednesday virtual love hugs. Enjoy. I'll make all my editors help pray tomorrow. Unless it is another snow day that it will just be me full on concentrating.

    P.S. my "I'm a real human" word this time is tomater. Like, you are a good tomater and it will be ok. : )

  13. I am praying. Peace, sister.
    And congrats on moving in. I know you won't be "those neighbors" for long. Besides, with winter, who's going to notice?

  14. Good thoughts coming your way. I'll be thinking of you now and until you post the outcome. Just breathe.

  15. Cysts SUCK. I never named mine, if it ever comes back I will!