It's Just Bob Spelled With Two O's

I've been going back and forth on whether I should post about the following topic. As much as I share on this blog, I tend to keep most issues an arm's length away. Not only is it for our own safety, but there's something to be said about boundaries, and I don't like the idea of some stranger knowing the intimate details of our life. What if you and I met in the cake aisle of Wal-Mart and you mentioned a specific detail of our bedroom? Talk about awkward!

But! I've decided to share a pretty intimate detail of my life (on my blog only) for two reasons.

1. I covet your prayers.
2. Knowledge is power. (Or however that silly quote goes.) (Cue that NBC shooting star music.)

Warning! The next few paragraphs contain the words "boob" and "boobal region." If either offend you, get a life. No I'm kidding. But seriously.

Sometime last year I noticed a pretty large lump in the boob. It was extremely painful and I'd never had anything like it. No one in my family has ever had breast cancer so I was more than a little confused. I went to the doctor and had her check it out. She assured me that cancer does not hurt (knowledge is power, lesson #1) and sent me on my way. Fast forward 8 months and the damn thing was still there. I pointed it out to my obgyn a few weeks ago and she said I needed to have an ultrasound. (Now you understand why I was so nervous leaving her office. Or maybe it really was the needles...)

I went to the radiologist where I was felt up like nobody's bidness. I was watching the screen and suddenly this big black THING showed up. Worse than any movie villain. She told me it was most likely a fibroadenoma--a harmless tumor--but due to its size she recommended having it removed and the sooner the better. I had two questions for her: Is this outpatient surgery? Yes. Will I be knocked the hell out? Yes.

I waited to hear recommendations from the doctor. She gave me two: a man and a woman, which brought on a huge dilemma. A woman has boobs. A man appreciates boobs. Do I go with the one who has dealt with them since she was 12 (or 17, but that's neither here nor there) or do I go with the one who spent most of his life staring at them? Let's face it, the boobal region is man's land and I'm not one to step in the way of that. I did some research on both and decided I'd go with the man.

Here's hoping he's straight. :)

So that's my story. I go in tomorrow for surgery at 4:30p and I'd be lying if I said I'm not scared. I am. But I also trust that I'm in good hands, and I'm not referring to my doctor. I ask that you say a little prayer for me, for my doctor, for Michael, and for my family. It's been a tense few weeks and I'm looking forward to it being over!

As I mentioned earlier, this post is for two reasons. Prayer for me (please and thank you), and a public service announcement to all of the ladies out there. Just because you're 27.9 and healthy doesn't mean you're invincible. If something isn't right--get it checked out!

And then blog about it so I'll feel better about sharing so much.