I got a letter today from my GYN.
Normally I find fun little bills in these envelopes, and I opened it with some hesitation – my little trip to dreamland with Doc. Smith wasn’t exactly cheap, and I was pretty sure this envelope contained a reminder of that visit.
It didn’t.
It was another reminder.
It’s been six months, and I’m supposed to go have another exciting trip to mamography land.
Yay me.
Two things:
1) I know there is nothing there, I’m going to be fine and that this is simply a routine test.
2) I’m scared to death.
It’s likely because I don’t exactly enjoy the whole squishing what’s left of my lady parts in between two very hard, very cold and very out in the open pieces of plastic. It could also be because of that second little surprise we’ve been keeping our eye on since the surgery.
Either way, I suppose I better make the appointment. This is the second letter I’ve received about it (or at least that’s what the letter says, I honestly don’t remember the first.)
Here we go.
