Put what...where?

The doctor said he wanted to perform a ductogram to get a better look at the duct.  So after some VA finagling and more stalking I was able to get an appointment in 12 days (this has to be a VA record).

After much researching and googling I was ready for the ductogram. 

I will start by saying can't blame the doctor but wow I wanted to hit him. After signing a release form (this should have been my first clue, that this wasn't a "simple" procedure).  He proceeded to insert a tube into a REALLY small opening on my nipple while injecting contrast dye into the duct gland...I couldn't even see the hole but he found it with no problem.  As he injected the dye slowly it started to BURN like nothing I had experienced before!  This was nothing like what I read on the internet, and I know the internet never lies.  After I finished clenching and squirming around like a big baby we went back to the futuristic-looking machine, that beckoned for me... 


After a few pictures he came back and said the contrast dye did this...Periductal Contrast Extravasation...I had to google it. Oh I really need to stay off the internet...

I get to go back in two weeks and do it all over again.  He says it won't hurt next time.  I don't believe him.

I read this on Google: Extravasation is normally the result of forceful (He didn't force, he didn't even use all the dye) contrast material administration or wall perforation, as the result of overzealous cannula insertion. On occasion, the destruction of ductal integrity by a carcinoma (insert bad word here) can also lead to extravasation. When extravasation occurs as the result of an underlying ductal lesion, the patient does not experience pain during cannulation, or burning (IT BURNED) when contrast material is injected. Ductography should, in such cases, be rescheduled for 7-14 days after the initial extravasation (Oh Fun, fun), and the lesion should be considered suspicious in cases in which extravasation is repeatedly detected at the same foci, in the absence of traumatic cannulation.

Squish, Squash...

My drive to the women’s diagnostic imaging center was a experience in itself.  I had to leave my house by 6:30 a.m. so I could sit in Houston traffic for almost two hours just to drive 28 miles.  After arriving I’m greeted by an extremely chipper woman (she must live close to the office) who offers me a complimentary beverage and equips me with a clipboard and a weeks worth of paperwork.  I play on my phone for about fifteen minutes before I'm escorted into the changing room where she leaves me to decipher how to wrap a one-size-fits-all, triangular piece of pink fabric around my body.  After a lengthy bit, I manage to fashion it into a modest top, secured in back...sorta.  I then proceed to the locker room/waiting area where I find other women just as uncomfortable as I am in the pink triangle.  We all acted immensely interested in our magazine articles but I doubt one of us registered 1/10th of what we were looking at.

Knowing it’s my first time, the radiology tech is kind and explains the procedure to me as I began to look around the dimly lit room.  The tech’s computer and viewing station is to the right, and a large, futuristic-looking machine looms in front of me, beckoning me to come closer…

The three-minute mammogram itself is quick but not entirely painless.  Reminds me of a rusty, hand-cranked vice that holds wood in place - only this time, it’s made of cold plastic, and the amount of tension is controlled by the tech - operated foot pedals.  My body was then contorted and compressed into odd positions, one with my nose oddly pressed against plexiglass, and the other with my arm configured into some sort of right angle.  I won’t lie.  It’s a little uncomfortable, but the pressure lasts for just a few seconds. On the pain scale of 1 to 10, I’d give it a 3.  I’d choose a mammogram over a dentist visit any day of the week.  (If anyone at my dental office is reading this...that doesn't mean I need to come in for the cleaning I cancelled two months ago).

The left side is over quickly, but the tech seems to hesitate for a second after looking on the computer.  I can’t see a thing and her delay makes me slightly apprehensive.  She finally takes the last picture and then it’s all over.  I didn't think anything about it at the time but given I was only having an issue with the left breast, that's all they wanted pictures of.  My right breast may never get the experience.

The Doctor came in and told me he also wanted to do an ultrasound.  This was no big deal to me, as long as he used warm gel.  The room was already freezing.  Now the frustrating part for me was, I couldn't see what he was looking at.  I know most patients don't care or even want to see but that's not me.  After a few minutes of squirming around trying see he realized and moved the screen so I can see.  I couldn't tell what I was looking at but I felt better.  

Drum roll please...

He got straight to the point.  There is a mass blocking the duct gland but he didn't know what it was or how big it was.  The discharge tested positive for blood and the smear showed abnormal cells.  More testing would be needed.  

Fears aside, my first mammogram was as pleasant as the unnatural compression of body parts can be.