A little over a month ago, my daughter texted me saying that she needed to speak with me as soon as possible. I called her immediately, and the first thing she said was, “Mom, can you make me an appointment for a mammogram?” There was silence, then I laughed. I responded, “Britt, you do know that normally you don’t get a mammogram until you’re about 40. What’s wrong?” She told me someone was talking about mammograms so she did a breast self-exam and she felt something. I then asked her about 5000 questions and told her I would immediately get her an appointment with a specialist.
I called my mom who was seeing a specialist because she was having issues so I took my daughter to her, since this doctor knows our family history. The doctor did an ultrasound and saw two large masses. She stated it was not a cyst, but it could be easily removed with a needle. She had something that requires surgery to remove. It could be done now or we could wait and watch it to see if it grows. It ultimately has to come out or she will have problems and risk it turning into cancer.
We left the appointment with my baby, my daughter, stating, “I do not want surgery right now. Let’s watch it.” Everyone she called and told begged her to have surgery, including me. I was depressed and sad and was crying. “Why my baby…she’s only 17,” I kept asking myself. I thank the Lord every day that I have not had the problems that my mother has had, but it really hits me hard when my baby is being told she could have fibroadenoma, but would know more once it’s removed. Two days later she called me and said that she had decided to do surgery. Mind you, I am still recovering from my surgery and, financially I don’t know how I am going to do this because her father isn’t going to help financially.
I scheduled everything, and this past Thursday they removed not only the two lumps seen in the ultrasound but a third mass that was hidden. They were the size of a golf ball :/. We are still awaiting the biopsy results but I am praying that whatever it is, it doesn’t come back cancerous.
The informational content of this article is intended to convey a personal experience and, because every person’s experience is unique, should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional healthcare advice.
This story is intended to convey a personal experience and, because every person’s experience is unique, should not be relied upon as a substitute for professional healthcare advice.