The First of What Will Be Many Procedures

I arrived at 7:15am at the Breast Center at Methodist in Katy.  It was the day after Christmas, and my brain was having trouble switching from festivities to medical mode.

The mammogram was first.  I was given a warm gown ("undress from the waist up") and a warm robe to wear.  I had thought ahead and was wearing comfy sweatpants and some thick socks so I could stay as warm as possible through the two procedures.

The mammogram, I thought, would be uncomfortable.  I had heard they squish your breasts in the machine, and since my right side was sore already, I assumed it would be a little more uncomfortable than usual.  It was worse than expected.  It took a very, very long time, and the tech used ever-decreasing sizes of plates, which put more and more pressure on my poor, sore breast.  When she finally finished, she left the room to show the images to the doctor before she moved me to the ultrasound room.

After a few minutes she came back into the room and didn't quite meet my eyes as she cheerfully said, "The doctor just wants a few more images, and then we'll be finished."

Uh-oh.  That didn't sound so routine.

After the mammogram, she took me to the ultrasound room.  As I got "comfortable" on the table, the tech explained that she would get the scans needed, and then the doctor would come in to talk to me and then we'd be finished.

After a long time, she somewhat cheerfully explained that she was going to go get the doctor, who "would do her own scans, as well," and then we'd go on from there.

Uh-oh.  That REALLY didn't sound routine.  

At this point, I was pretty sure that Dr. Patel's "90%" didn't apply to me.