Update on My Guts (With a Guest Appearance by my Boobs)

I saw a colon specialist today regarding my diverticulitis.  I just wanted to get a second opinion since my “regular” doctor is a general surgeon and may not deal with colons that often.  I figured I’d see someone who dealt with colons every day.  Make sense, right?

When they brought me back to the examination room, the nurse commented that I was so young, and that most diverticulitis patients are senior citizens.  Yes, I have the colon of a 70 year-old.  I don’t know what I did to make that happen.  It could have been that for years, I ate Imodium like candy because I had IBS issues.  Maybe.  Who knows.

Anyway.  The Dr. came in, and did a brief exam.  When he read through the CT Scan results from the past 6 months, he asked if I had a mammogram.  I thought it was an odd question, but said that I hadn’t.  He looked confused, and brought the February CT Scan report to me.

On the February report, one of the items listed stated that they saw a mass in my breast and recommended that I have a mammogram ASAP.

My doctor, the surgeon, never told me about it.  We never talked about my boobs.

I let that sink in for a moment while the Dr. ranted a bit about the facility and doctor who’d been “caring” for me.  He gave me the name of the best breast oncologist in the area, and told me to make an appointment ASAP.  Because, you know, I could have cancer.

Then we moved on to my diverticulitis.  Long story short, I have to have surgery.  There’s no avoiding it.  Because I just started a new semester, and can’t miss a month of work, I begged to put it off until the end of December during my winter break.  He said that’s fine, but if I have another attack, they’re doing surgery no matter what.  So, yay.  I get to have surgery over my holiday break.

I also asked him how pregnancy would/could affect the diverticulitis.  If I get pregnant prior to surgery, and have an attack (i.e. my colon perforates, and fluid [poop] leaks into my abdomen, they couldn’t treat me with antibiotics.  And I’d lose the baby (unless I was so far along that it could survive an early delivery).  I could wait until after surgery (IF I decide I want a second child), but surgery will lead to a decrease in my fertility.  So…yeah, lots to think about.

I left the appointment more concerned about my boobs.  I complain about them a lot (they’re huge), but I kind of like them.  I called The Hubs and gave him the news.  I called my sister and ranted.  I texted Colleen.  I planned my funeral.  All while driving home (though, not the texting — I did that while I stopped at the grocery store).

Then I realized that they did a ton of bloodwork on me when I was in the hospital in August.  And if I had cancer, the bloodwork would have shown something amiss, right??  Right.  That’s what I’m going with.  But I’m calling the boob Dr. first thing in the morning.

I’m so angry with the Dr. who didn’t tell me about CT Scan findings.  Even if he thought it was nothing, he still should have told me that they saw something.  I’m not sure how I’m going to handle this.  I want him to know that he did something wrong.

Ugh.  So many serious things to think about.  Not good.

I will leave you with The Kid’s current favorite song.  It’s a happy one.



About JessieB

Just a 30-something girl trying to figure it all out. I write about weight loss, books, motherhood, life, and whatever is on my mind.
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9 Responses to Update on My Guts (With a Guest Appearance by my Boobs)

  1. Jaemie says:

    1. I’m glad that your guts are OK enough to wait until December for surgery.

    2. Please give me the name and address of the doctor who reviewed your CT scans so that I can punch him in the face.

    3. If the issue was your colon/intestines/guts, why/how did your chest get scanned? Suspected fluid up there? I is confuzzed.

    4. If the mass is something (it won’t be), I *think* you have grounds for a lawsuit. I think it’s called “failure to diagnose.” But don’t worry about it until you’re told to worry about it. (Remember Leroy?) My mom had something show up in a mammogram and it turned out to be a mole … but they didn’t figure that out until two mammograms and a breast utrasound later.

    • I would love to see you kick that Dr’s ass! He’s the head of surgery at the local hospital. I do want to talk to him about what he did (or didn’t) do, but I’m too angry at the moment.

      I’m not quite sure how my chest got scanned. In February, I had fluid around my diaphragm, so maybe when they scanned that, my boobs were in the picture? They’re huge, and ruin every picture, I swear!

      I’m calling the boob Dr. tomorrow, and I’ll try to get in there ASAP. I’m not too worried about it because I’m sure that my bloodwork over the past few months would have shown something amiss if I had cancer. I think. Ugh.

  2. Seriously take care and don’t stress. So easy to say! I just think that the stress is bad for your tummy, and I’m as good a doctor as the one who didn’t tell you to get a mammogram so listen to me.

  3. Laura says:

    Honestly, if it was me I would be freaking out, but thats how I roll.

    I know you dont want surgery, but if it fixes the problem, thats all that matters.

    I wish I had something better to say 😦 I’m here if you want to talk!

    • Thanks, Laura! I’ve come to terms with the surgery, for the most part. That section of my colon is so weak that there’s just no way I’ll live the rest of my life without an other attack. I’m just hoping that it holds out until winter break. I can’t afford time off from work right now.

      Just knowing that you’re there for support is wonderful! 🙂

  4. ragemichelle says:

    I know it’s hard, but TRY to no worry until you know what is actually wrong, if anything.

    My husband would laugh his ass off if he read this. 🙂

    I am thinking about you and really want to know what the doctor says about your boobies..

  5. ragemichelle says:

    errr..when I say my husband would laugh..I meant he would laugh at me telling you to NOT worry. He would NOT however, laugh at your post.

    I’m a worrier.

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