Ghetto Healthcare

OK, I'm being harsh.  I chose my radiology place for their close proximity to my work.  They are OK, not great.  Case in point, the tv was playing T.MZ.. Hour when I walked in and the other patients were apparently very amused by the crude humor.  While tempted to ask them to change the channel, I just tried to block my concentration on the show.  The receptionist wanted to see my insurance cards again and have me fill out another health questionnaire.  I protested that saying I was just here six months ago and NOTHING in my life had changed; health, insurance, or otherwise.  I did cave to the copies of the insurance cards thinking I was getting dangerously close to becoming the belligerent, wise-ass bitch.    She also wanted me to fill out a form asking about my periods and other gynecological health stuff.  I looked closer and it was for pelvic/transvag ultrasounds.  I remind her that this was for my breast.  Oh yeah.

The tech was running a half hour behind schedule and thought my appointment was a follow-up to the last cyst we found last year.  Had to correct her too, that this was a brand spanking new lump and she should have the doctor's order since I confirmed they received it on Friday.  Yes, she did have it and we would be looking at my left breast instead of the right.  There was a young woman in the room with us and figured she was an ultrasound tech student.  Indeed she was but they didn't ask me beforehand if this was alright with me.  For a split second, I was tempted to order her out of the room but I calmed down a bit and figured, no harm no foul.

The lump was easily palpable and came up almost immediately.  Yes, another fluid filled cyst.  I'm getting good at this self-diagnosis stuff.  The tech found a "friend", another cyst right next to it.  And this is when it got real ghetto, she called me "the cyst queen."  I rolled my eyes just thanking God for some sort of healthcare that required only an hour off work, a half hour if they'd been on time, but nevertheless.

Dr. Elizabeth called and left a message yesterday saying the report showed "just a simple little cyst."  I think when I do actually find a tumor, I'll call everybody on this childish, pedantic language.  I'm not asking anybody to drop everything when it comes to my breast health, but a little, tiny bit of respect would sure be appreciated.

I've been binging on all types of food the last three days, just yesterday I had a bag of peanut M&Ms, and two cupcakes.  I haven't exercised in a week.  And I feel great.  We're keeping our arguments to a minimum, that is our Lenten commitment and I owe it all to my husband who is steady as a rock lately.