Christmas Eve didn't gel with me (ha, ha)
The next morning was my boob ultrasound appointment. I still wasn't very nervous about anything -- I really was just filled with a calm feeling, no panic at all. And for someone as anxiety-ridden as I am, I was grateful for that!
I was the youngest person at the clinic by about 30 years. I think the staff didn't know quite how to treat me...they were very awkward. I stripped down into another flimsy paper gown (opening in the front for easy boob access. Which also means easy access elsewhere. I was suddenly regretting my choice not to wear granny panties) and hoisted myself up on to the table/bed/thing.
The gel they squirted on me was surprising--it was really warm. It looked and felt a little like thick Purell (hand sanitizer). The ultrasound tech smeared it all over my boob and went lump huntin'. She didn't say anything at all but snapped a few pictures and called it a day. I didn't think she was very thorough, but she said she got what she needed, so I didn't push for anything.
After conferring with the ultrasound expert (not sure of his official position), the ultrasound tech came back in and told me everything looked okay -- the lump was really too small to see much, but what they could see didn't look suspicious. They said they'd let my gyno know the results and that I was free to go.
The next week I got a call from my gynecologist's nurse. She was glad the ultrasound looked okay, but wanted me to get a second opinion with a breast surgeon. I called and was able to get an appointment for Jan. 12.
Part IV to be continued...
P.S. Thanks for all your sweet comments, tweets and e-mails for D. She's doing better today, and so am I. We've talked a LOT and have figured out various ways to still see each other even from far away! There's one more Ivy League school she's waiting to hear from that's IN DreamSchool City, so there's always the hope for that.