breaking the very thin thread
Nothing can start off a week like a biopsy. Well, except maybe a biopsy combined with bad news at work. Biopsies? Not a barrel of laughs but not as terrible as one would imagine. (Which I find is the worst thing...what one imagines.) I got to the doctor's office and decided to skip the vicodin. The Fiance seemed surprised when I told him I really can get a grip on my anxiety and calm myself down physically so that part wasn't a big deal. So you get to lie down on a massage-type table but instead of hanging your head through the hole, you hang your boob. Awesome. I think it's better that you can't see what's going on down there. I got more details from the technician when we were done. They deaden your skin and actual boob (which burns a little, I won't lie). And then they basically jam a straw through your skin and suck out specimens. But, you know, instead of an actual straw it's a big, fancy, expensive machine. I had about 6 taken out and they