Boob Tube

Two weeks ago I got the frightening news that a routine MRI (I'll explain its "routine-ness in a moment) revealed two spots on my right breast and one on my liver.

After the initial shock (which according to my Confused Cuban/Puerto Rican lasted a brief twenty minutes) my thoughts went to two places:

1) Double mastectomy with reconstruction. Bright side--I would get huge new, perky breasts, would not have to wear a bra, pitch myself to Playboy as the first "reconstructionist" to be a centerfold.

2) Planned my funeral. Having just read about Nora Ephron's well-executed funeral plans (she left a folder marked "EXIT") I decided what my final goodbye would look like. Two hours of open bar to be followed by open mic and then the last Alabama Championship played on a JumboTron screen.

Back to reality...

My strong family history of breast cancer forces me to have a mammogram and MRI every year. I never give it a second thought.

Ten days later I had a liver ultrasound and a MRI guided breast biopsy. Being claustrophobic I was loaded on some good meds. The biopsy was especially bad. In and out of that tube, face down, for over an hour.

The GREAT news is that the liver spot was a shadow on the film and the biopsy was nothing--just two tiny cysts.

So regardless of what you think about health care reform, go get whatever tests you need--including skin cancer screenings--every year. If this was the worst case scenario for me, it would have been caught very early and likely saved my life.

Oh and sorry Playboy.