Five years ago, after getting out of the shower and going through my daily ritual of moisturizing my body with body oil, I was looking at my reflection in the mirror and I could see where the impressions of my bra straps were starting to cut into my skin.
My first thought was, I needed to apply coco butter to this area in order to fade these markings.
While massaging the coco butter into my skin, as I reached my right underarm area; I felt a hard solid lump, about the size of a small robin’s egg. In order to feel this lump, my arm had to be extended backwards as if I were trying to reach behind me. In any other position I couldn’t feel it.
All my life from a very early age, I have been doing self-breast exams and I had never detected anything abnormal with my breast. As I was saying, in order to feel this solid mass, my arm had to be in an unusual position.
Immediately, I became alarmed. It was after 5 o’clock in the evening and the medical centers were already closed for the day. The first thing the following morning I went to see my family physician. After he examined me, he sent me to a surgeon at one of the local hospitals.
With the location of this mass, it was extremely hard to detect, so the surgeon sent me for an ultrasound. At the completion of my examination, my surgeon advised me that whatever it was, it needed to be removed. My biopsy was scheduled for the following week.
In the days prior to my surgery I talked to many people. Many women who assured me that it was probably nothing. Many of them had also had minor surgeries for cysts of the breast; so by the time my surgery date arrived I was feeling quite confident that it was nothing. They were going to remove the lump and everything was going to be alright.
When I checked into the hospital my family was with me. I remember laughing with them about how hungry I was since I couldn’t eat anything after midnight the night prior, and it was already after 12:30 pm the next day.
My surgeon, Dr. Matthews, was the absolute best. I felt so relaxed and comfortable in his care. After I was given my “happy medicine” the last thing I remember was him taking my hand and saying a prayer. When I came to, I was back in my private room surrounded by my family. I was starving to death and so ready to be discharged. I was mid-conversation with my mother when the doctor walked in— I saw the look on his face and I knew…
Chapter excerpt taken from “I Need Therapy”
Copyright (c) 2006 Glenda A. Wallace
The G-Spot! with Glenda A. Wallace 