So I have had - not including direct family members - SEVEN people look closely at my boobs in the last little bit.
They looked past their unadorned surface and their dense fibrous peculiarities to gaze upon two little lumps smaller than a grain of rice. One left. One right. One up. One down.
I had my life a bit mapped in February.
I was organised enough to book my annual very close look at the possibility of my familial rite of passage visiting my life. Switched on enough to have even organised an RDO and make it a Friday so there was no pressure. The last Friday in February.
And then someone who was meant to make my work-life easier got a better offer and would be finishing up - on said RDO.
In January, there were floods that caused a great deal of grief and devastation to areas to the South of us, both sides of the highway that I travel to get said check. Both sides and right across.On the last Tuesday in February, Livio * said "buckle up, interesting weather ahead"
La Nina clicked her castanets and strummed the intro to her next song after the lament of Seth.
On the last Wednesday in February, I received a text, asking if I wanted to confirm my appointment. I thought about what Livio said - and I thought about what happened in January - and I thought "nah".
I rang and spoke to the receptionist, who hadn't even heard that it was going to rain. It would be such a pity to have a wet weekend - and we rebooked for 3 weeks later. The Thursday clinic.
The Clinic that I visit as annually as Covid allows is a well-kept secret.
Its open to certain people only. I qualified for membership thanks to my great-Aunt, my grandmother, my mother and my sister - and no doubt many other forbears whose lives are abbreviated in family folklore - all having been visited upon by Breast Cancer. The most impressive thing is that those women? Came from almost every branch of my family tree.
Apparently there are families who don't have such a heritage.
Its a double-edged sword.
There are some that think if you ignore such a threat, you will not be psychically-swayed to invite the beast in.
And then there is being vigilant and hopeful.
But every annual checkup there is that knowledge that you will either leave with a great deal of relief - or you will leave with a certainty of what was expected.
Another RDO was booked. Mid March. Three weeks hence.
I still took my last Friday in February RDO.
I stuffed around thinking about things that I should have been doing but didn't. I did collect my daughter from school. She told me many people had covid in her class.
We had our usual fish and chips.
She sneezed. Due to aforementioned "many people had covid in her class" and her saying "shouldn't you test me for Covid" she did a RAT test. (Is that like saying "ATM Machine"?)
It turned positive so quickly, I didn't believe it. I opened two more and tested both her and I. Hers again turned positive immediately. Mine was negative.
We were lucky. She had the sneeze, one day of headache and didn't feel like doing much. Actually, the latter state is probably a natural state, but it sounds more virtuous if associated with illness.
V and I both ducked and weaved enough to stay negative for a whole week.
I worked from home, we isolated and counted our lucky stars.
The car was serviced. New tyres were needed.
Eventually Thursday came.
I packed a thermos (I can't stand buying coffee these days - I like it how I like it, and it ain't what they got) and road snacks and clothing options and entertainment and projects and put on an audiobook and I drove as the sun rose and I drove as people got ready for school and I drove as people started their days work and I drove until I arrived four and a half hours later.
I went to the local shopping centre - and there were hawkers selling charity at the supermarket entry and the public toilet was inexplicably closed. So I went to the local bigger shopping centre. Its huge. Its the sort where you can visit one section and never see other bits. The sort where you can get lost easily. The sort where there are a lot of people - and I am very unused to a lot of people.
The toilets were clean - I will give them that.
I breathed deep and I bought some lunch and hightailed out to sit in the carpark of the clinic and eat sushi and listen to my audiobook and breathe and not drive.
1:30 came and I entered.
As always, I got the talk of how I am aged out of the initial program, I am allowed to stay close to home and get adequate care and hope that whoever looks at my lumps and bumps can look past their unadorned surface and their dense fibrous peculiarities and see that my girls aren't the squeeze and photograph variety.
They are the lube me up and rub an electric wand over closely version.
But apparently there are magic words you have to say else Medicare says "sucks to be you" and hangs you out on the cost. And you have to hope that the wizard with the wand knows how to wave it very, very well.
I like this place, though. At this place, they have both options in one spot, know the magic words and the wizards are very, very, VERY good.
After the talk, I got the obligatory squeeze and photograph session, where they found dense fibrous peculiarities hid the possibility of monsters.
Then I got taken to a room down at the end of the hall by a wizard, who had warmed gel to lube me.
You tend not to chat too much during the rub an electric wand section of the day, as the wizards concentrate quite hard.
This wizard was concentrating very, very, VERY hard.
The lady whose job it was to tell me I didn't need to always come down to see such special wizards at the beginning also got the job to tell me that they wanted to have a really close look at my boobs again. And maybe just grab some little cells to make sure they know what they are looking at.
They used a special doo-dad that goes in and grabs these little cells - it sort of punches you - and they need to do so a few times at a few different angles - at two places. One left. One right. One up. One down.
Every annual checkup there is that knowledge that you will either leave with a great deal of relief - or you will leave with a certainty of what was expected.
The six finally came up this year.
They wanted me to come back down - next week - because they might have something to tell me.
"Its four and a half freaking hours EACH WAY" I explained. "Is there no way that we can Teams it?" but I was advised that, unless we were in isolation due to Covid, they needed the flesh and blood variety of me.
And I drove and I drove and I drove home.
So its not meant to be a look at me statement, its more this is not a secret.
TO BE CONTINUED.
* If you are from Regional Queensland, odds are you know Livio.
