Monday, March 21, 2005

All This Fuss Over Cottage Cheese?

This past Friday, I had an excision biopsy of a mass in my right breast.

Was it a malignant tumor? No.

Was it a benign tumor? No.

A cyst? A fibroid? A calcification?

No.

It was a big nasty lump of dried milk, created when an overzealous radiologist did a punch biopsy on my poor lactating breast six months ago. She thought I had cancer. I had mastitis.

Am I dying? No.

Have I just taken it up the butt from the medical establishment? Yes.

Next time I feel a lump in my breast, Scott is going to have to knock me over the head and carry my unconscious body in to the doctor's office, because I don't see how any rational person could voluntarily put themselves through such a clusterfuck again. I am going to be disfigured for life. Just call me Frankentit.

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