Saturday, March 27, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Got my mammogram results today and all is well. No signs of cancer detected. Phew!!! The twins recovered nicely from their squashing, although they have requested that I don't do it to them again any time soon. And now I can assure them that so long as they stay healthy we won't have to repeat the experience for another 2 years.
I did want to touch on the whole ultrasound thing that came up in the comments from that post. Mammograms are a screening tool, which means they need to be used on a high volume of women at the lowest possible cost. They are not a diagnostic tool - that is what surgery and biopsies are for. An ultrasound can also be used as a screening tool, but anyone who has ever had an ultrasound knows they take time. My mammogram was over in 30 minutes - that included an extra set of pictures to make sure the lower parts of the twins were properly captured and explaining everything to me as it was my first one. I don't know exactly how long a proper ultrasound of a pair of breasts would take, but I imagine it would be a lot longer than half an hour. It just wouldn't be feasible, which means they would not be able to screen as many women as they currently do.
Mammograms have come a long way in the past few years:
The image on the right is the old film-style mammogram, the one on the left is the new digital mammogram. What a difference! The tech was good enough to show me mine on the screen after she took them and I was pretty blown away by the detail. Looking at the old ones I wonder how the hell the radiologists ever saw anything that wasn't bleeding obvious. The digital films will allow even smaller cancers to be found, saving lives.
So ladies, while mammograms will remain our own private few minutes of torture - or not so private if you have a blog such as this - please have them done on a regular basis. The life you save could be your own.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Bet you thought it was gone for good, didn't ya? Silly you.
I do have some new readers who believe I am a fine and upstanding person and aren't fully acquainted with the Skinfest, so indulge me for a moment while I explain. Now I am a fine and upstanding person who also has an appreciation for the male physique, and particularly for the male physique of rugby league players. The Skinfest is my weekly indulgence of said appreciation. As a nod to my male readers I offer a slice of cheesecake at the end, usually served with some commentary that is laced with equal parts scorn and envy.
Since the 2010 NRL season kicked off last week, what better time to bring back the Skinfest! What's that? You say last week would've been good? Shut up.
Oh and newbies? We're (meaning me) not very subtle here with the Skinfest where we feature stuff like this:
Still with me? Cool. More skin next week - same bat-time, same bat-blog.
Another one of Clive:
And this is where we're off to in about 45 minutes. He's been moved up recently and is quite unhappy about it as it means a different area of the pool. Clive does not cope with change very well and since he's never been an enthusiastic swimmer it's not going well. Wish us luck!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
That was my Facebook status this afternoon, and if you are my Facebook friend and caught the earlier status update you know why. If you're a little late to the party, this is why:
Doesn't that look like fun? That's not me, in case you are someone who is completely unfamiliar with my appearance. It was that position that made me go "OW" instead of merely "Ouch". Not so much because my boobs were compressed from the width of a typical paperback to what felt like the width of a community newspaper, but because my shoulder had to be pinned down as well. She's not smiling, she's biting her lip to keep from shouting, "Fuck me, that hurts!"
The twins were not happy at such treatment, I assure you.
But let's put things into perspective. "I'm sorry, I know this is very uncomfortable," apologized the nice tech as she assisted with the positioning of the girls into just the right position to be squashed.
"Yeah, well so is cancer," I answered through gritted teeth.
Because really, what's worse? Having one's tits compressed to the point of pain repeatedly for a few seconds only or dying of breast cancer? Sometimes it comes down to making it that simple.
Although I do think if guys had to have their bits squashed like that on a regular basis they'd have come up with something better. And don't even TALK to me about prostate exams, okay? Because if you bring that up I will be forced to mention Pap smears and declare us equal on that score.
I should get my results in a couple of weeks. I'm not particularly concerned, as my risk factors are low, but of course one never knows. Which, of course, is why I took the Queensland Government up on its offer for my first ever mammogram. How thoughtful of them to get me a present on my 40th birthday!
So ladies, if your doctor recommends it just go and get the mammogram, okay? It really could save your life.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Okay, what is it?
Well it's a hexagon of course. But it's on Saturn. You know, the planet with the pretty rings. It's a cloud formation on the North Pole of Saturn. In the shape of a hexagon. That's been there for at least 20 years. No, I'm not making it up.
A rotating cloud formation in the shape of a hexagon. That is so freaking cool and totally mind blowing.
The universe is just awesome.
Monday, March 08, 2010
I know you don't know me very well, but this ain't my first rodeo. I'm not a brand new, wet-behind-the-ears nurse who doesn't know how to speak to doctors. I know I seemed unprepared this morning but to be fair we didn't have a lot of information about the lumbar puncture (LP) and we don't often do diagnostic LPs in our unit. So when I asked you this morning if the chemo orders had been written and you got snappy with me, telling me we couldn't go ahead with the treatment until the results of the LP were back, I accepted that. I later thanked you when you told me you had, indeed, written the chemo orders and I clarified that we were not to proceed until we got your go ahead. You agreed with that statement and I again said I would wait for your clearance. Just to be clear. Because you're not the first doctor I've ever dealt with.
So when you forget you're supposed to contact me, do not go and tell my team leader I confused your orders and that you told me I could go ahead. Do not try and paint me in a bad light to cover your own ass. First of all, my team leader today knows me well enough to know I know the value of time in our unit and would not waste nearly 5 hours waiting if I didn't have to. Secondly, your reputation proceeds you. I am not the first person you've done something like this to, apparently. When the team leader told me what you had told her and I called bullshit, she was not surprised. Do you think just because you're the doctor you can say what you like and no one will question it?
Next time you give me orders, I will be sure to get clarification in front of another nurse. I wonder if you'll be game to blame two of us for "misunderstanding" you then.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
OK, so the other guy is a tire (or tyre if I speak native Aussie, but this is one of those words I refuse to change) and it really isn't damaged at all. Really, it didn't even blink. Course that may be because it's, well, a tire.
The Hermit drove Miss Thing (no,she still doesn't have a licence but then again she has nothing to drive... don't get me started) to work in my 4WD on Saturday and when he got home the back left tire was leaking air. Naturally Clive wanted to be in on the action and was outside with Dad during the tire change. Naturally I wanted nothing to do with the testosterone exercize that is tire changing and was inside. Some time later I heard a loud scream, a shout and footsteps. Next thing I know Clive is being thrust at me with blood pouring down his face.
Good thing I got over my childhood fear of blood, hey Momma Mooselet?
Turns out Clive just couldn't keep his hands off the tire and tipped it over... right onto his lip. Thankfully he didn't need stitches, just lots of ice and TLC.
The boy is going to be the death of me...