2016 sucks

So.  Here I am.  Back at the blog again, but for a much different reason this time.  I'm still running and all that.  In fact, I'm signed up for a shit ton of stuff this year.  Just ran the Millinocket Half Marathon the other weekend and honestly, that deserves a blog post of its own, but will wait on that for now.

About 2-3 months ago I noticed that I had a dent in my boob.  Well, I noticed that my nipple was pointing a different way.  Nothing major.  My boobs are old, you know.  I'm 46 and breastfed 3 kiddos so you know that takes a toll on the girls.  I thought, well, that's weird.  But that was it really.  I guess this is what my boobs are going to look like now.  And didn't really think much of it.

I don't often see myself without clothes but each time I did, I just kinda thought "oh, well.  Poor boob looks weird now" and that was that.

Last Thursday, for whatever reason, I thought differently.  My mind finally had a rational thought and realized--uh, no.  This is not just old boobs.  Dumbass.  Maybe, just maybe, you should get a mammogram.

So I called the doctor on Friday.  Got an appointment (which was an adventure in itself, but not the point of this story so I'll leave it out) and went that afternoon.  Of course, he thought it was weird and of course, he agreed that I should have a mammogram.

Monday--mammogram scheduled at 1:00.  Should be about a half hour they said so I moved my schedule around so I could come back to see patients around 1:45.  yeah, nope.  Multiple pictures and then an ultrasound and shit was getting serious.  Biopsy scheduled the next morning 7:15.  I am all about doing it now and getting it over with.  Who wants to wait around for that shit?  Not me.

The biopsy was not really a big deal, 5 samples with a hole punch like needle thing and that's that.  Hurry up and wait for the pathology report.  I tried to talk myself into believing it was just a fibrous clump or some boring nothing thing like that, but deep down I had a feeling it wasn't going to be nothing.

The doctor called me yesterday and confirmed that I have a ductal cell carcinoma.  Low grade.  Which is guess is "better".  Whatever that means.  Off to the cancer care center I go.  Merry fucking Christmas to me.

I laugh at the irony of this since I don't smoke, I don't drink, I exercise almost daily, eat pretty decently and I am not overweight.  But yet, I get this.  Hardly seems fair.  And you know what, I don't have time for any of this shit.  I don't.  I don't even have time to wrap the fucking christmas presents and now I have to find time for surgery and radiation and god knows what else.

2016 has sucked balls and I am so done with it.  Fuck you 2016.  I'm pretty sure I don't deserve any of this stuff I've had to deal with this year.  But yet, here I am.

I hope 2016 treated you better than it treated me.