Squashed

Perhaps it was unwise of me to schedule a mammogram for so close to the end of The Task; a bit more mental preparation time would have been helpful. Or perhaps it was actually good timing, as I had limited opportunity to contemplate the various unlikely-yet-terrible possibilities. Either way, it needed to be done, as I was slightly past the six-month mark for reevaluation. 

The mammogram itself is Old Hat at this point; slightly disagreeable, but certainly tolerable in its brevity. The ultrasound is a bit more problematic, for it is lengthy and the physical pressure is really rather uncomfortable. Plus there is the difficulty of where to put my eyes: I can look at the little screen of the machine as the technician presses, types, clicks and clicks, and labels the images; or I can look away, lest the foggy black-and-white view give me a premature or false suggestion that there may in fact be a Problem.

I chose to look away. I will find out the results in a few days -- no need to guess at what I do not yet know.

Fingers crossed, that all is stable once more.