How to perform a proper breast self-exam?

You're right, electricdriver78—thanks for adding that bit.
It’s not just about finding soft tissue issues; it covers everything, including bone anomalies.
I'm pretty sure they have this tech in the States too—it’s really just a question of whether insurance actually covers it. Here, it's rare unless you've got a "special" case.

Exactly. It's used whenever there's a suspicion of any kind of anomaly. I actually had an MRI done at Mayo Clinic once—I’ll never forget the whole experience—though in my case, it wasn't breast issues they were looking for.

In America, insurance usually picks up the tab for it.

slyraven82 🙂

In America, you can technically cover any indicated medical exam through your health insurance. But if you follow the standard procedure—you know, getting a referral, showing your insurance card, checking in at the front desk—you’re looking at a wait time of over six months.

It is absolutely impossible to deal with.

darkviper5 said:Yeah, you're right, electricdriver78, thanks for clearing that up...
it isn't just about spotting soft tissue issues, but rather all kinds of anomalies, including bones too...
I'm sure they have this technology available here in the States as well, it's just a question of whether insurance covers it, because around here they usually only authorize it for "special" cases...😢

:

See, I didn't realize they used it for bones—because over here, if there's a suspicion of a bone issue, they typically send people for a bone scan instead...

It takes a bit longer than an MRI if you're doing the whole body, but the concept is pretty much the same...

Went to the hospital this morning. I thought I’d finally get the biopsy done today—get the tissue sampled and just be done with that whole chapter of my life. But the kid!

I need to schedule this during the first part of my cycle, when everything feels "empty" and it's easiest to accurately sample the exact tissue that looks suspicious.

I grilled the doctor with questions; he held his ground quite bravely.
And the more detailed he was, the more questions I seemed to have.
God, Dea!
He actually managed to endure my initial wall of arrogance—that mask I wear to hide the black void of fear, the tears, the clumsiness, the mental fog... all that frantic searching. He let me pull myself together and put back on my face: "I'm totally cool." And he didn't resort to those empty platitudes people usually use to escape a conversation. He didn't make promises. He stayed sober, composed, and present. He was 100% there with me in that exam room, dedicated to me and my entire situation—from my job to my family dynamics...

To make a long story short...

The hospital is the gold standard when it comes to physician competence, surgical expertise, and experience with this specific issue... in short, they are number one if I end up needing someone to hold the knife (I'm sticking with the hospital and Dr. Mark).

For diagnostics, he recommended Eljuga Clinic. It’s expensive, sure, but they perform the biopsy under the guidance of a specialized type of mammogram that tracks the needle placement and the sampling process in real-time. It minimizes the chance of error. (darkviper5, Betty Rivera14, thank you both so much for warning me about the possibility of missing the target or getting an insufficient sample. Truly, thank you!).

The odds of it being cancer aren't high. The mammogram showed no microcalcifications, which is a huge point in favor of it being a cyst.
But then there's the family history (both my mother and grandmother) and the way this thing "behaves"—this tiny, less-than-half-centimeter nuisance under my fingers. It isn't mobile like a cyst; it's hard. Even the ultrasound couldn't give a definitive answer. Aside from the typical "...hmmm... could be a cyst... I don't know... hmmm..."
It confirms the previous ultrasound findings: a 16mm cyst on the right, and a 5mm spot on the left that he isn't entirely sure is a cyst.

Since I had everyone's thoughts printed out and brought with me, I asked him about MRIs, genetic testing, and... everything else.🙂
He said the priority is the tissue biopsy, done in the most precise way possible. Once that's settled, we can look at other tests if necessary.

And damn it, as much as I praise the doc right now, and as much as I feel "softened" by how you all write to me and help me (thank you)—knowing I can come here to vent and dump everything I'm feeling, even the things I shouldn't... even the crying, the fantasizing, and the wide-eyed terror of this stigma that eats at me from the inside... and no matter how much I try to project a better version of myself in photos... through it all...

IT DOESN'T MATTER WHEN THE FEAR IS CONSTANT, dammit!

I wanted to say: screw staying without my "bits," as I call them. But it's not really like that.😢
Look, I would never tell anyone that those few ounces of flesh sitting above my lungs actually matter to me. Mark noticed them, felt them... artificial ones might be bigger or prettier, but honestly, I’d prefer my own small, silly, cheerful, round little bits...

Carol Grant33 tried to comfort me, saying her mom would give up some of hers in a heartbeat if mine were taken away. Carol, it feels like someone whispered to me that I won't have much material left for reconstruction if it comes to that. 🙂

It really hits home. 😢
That expression "it hits home"... it's pure acting. My acting, I mean.

Actually, you know what? I am 99% sure it's nothing. I truly am. When I calm down and look deep inside, I really believe it's nothing. How can that 1% drive this much drama over a 0.5cm piece of tissue before it's even confirmed?😲

You all know how a coordinate system works. Let's just look at the right side of the axis. Everything I’m feeling right now occupies this massive, rolling space in the positives... while there's this tiny area in the negatives, yet marked by these incredibly sharp, jagged spikes plunging deep, deep into the negative zone.
As I sit here typing, it feels like I can only touch those cresting waves in the positive territory and those piercing peaks in the negative. It's all actually quite superficial and disconnected. Don't judge me, but I honestly don't know how else to put it.

Truth be told, I know you understand me, and that I tend to write like this.
In some way, you've all either lived through something similar, or someone dear to you has, or perhaps you've just tried to take on life with both big and small spoons. Or maybe—and let's face it, you all are—you're just beings with a decent sense of empathy.

Well, now I'm starting to get a bit sentimental. 😎

Dammit, Dea, go do something productive! 🙂
For the record, I'm an honest person; usually, I'm quite the volunteer type, just a cheerful guy in my early forties.
I just need to make it to my next period, then I'll head in to get my blood drawn. Once that's done, I'm setting myself a challenge: I'll tell you twenty jokes, five pieces of gossip about myself, and maybe I'll even try a little lighthearted flirting with one of you... just being blunt... anything, really... as long as these next two or three weeks pass.

Thanks, Dea

Dea, I'm sending you so much strength and some positive vibes 🙂

It's totally okay to be scared—it's obvious you're incredibly strong 👍

Regarding the Magnetic Resonance Imaging—unfortunately, it's true that you might wait months for an appointment. I actually had a connection once; I was seen just two days after they decided I needed it. That was a few years back, but even then, people were using "blue envelopes"—meaning, if you wanted to skip the line (and really, who wouldn't want to avoid months of uncertainty? 😲 I spent one night in a coma myself), you paid up and were in for your scan within a week at most.
Back then, they had two machines that people would travel from all over the US to use (I assume things have improved since then). They kept those machines running day and night—even though they were supposed to shut them down per protocol—so the equipment started breaking down bit by bit.

The ones who paid usually got late-night slots, when there was less staff wandering the hallways.

The system is 👎 but I get it—when you're in a situation like this, everyone helps the best way they know how.

It’s a noble effort on your part—honestly, I’m quite the volunteer myself, just a cheerful girl in my early forties.

It shows, dear, don't you worry 🙂

Just keep posting here

Maybe your posts are giving strength to someone else reading this anonymously from their living room—someone sitting quietly behind a screen, too afraid to say a word.

slyraven82 said:I was trying to say: Damn, being left without my "little lady" is a real blow, even if it’s just my private little nickname for it. But honestly, it doesn't feel quite like that.😢
Look, I would never claim that those few ounces of flesh sitting above my lungs actually matter to me. Mark poked at them, felt them around... sure, artificial ones can be bigger and better... but damn it, I’d take my own small, low, silly, cheerful, round ones any day.

Oh, Dea... I totally get you.🙂

Take me, for example. Last summer I went through surgery, and during the process, they realized one of my ovaries was a lost cause and decided to remove it.

With that signature tactful touch only our American doctors seem to master🙄 they told me when I asked why all the other women were being sent home while I wasn't. They just said, "Well, we can't, because we took your ovary."☕

Listen, it's a part of your internal anatomy that isn't even visible, yet the realization that a piece of my body was just gone horrified me. It was nothingness... nothing left... I felt broken.

And the way they broke the news to me👎

slyraven82 said:That hospital is the gold standard when it comes to doctor competency, surgeon training, and sheer experience. They live and breathe this stuff... basically, they're #1. If I ever needed someone holding the scalpel, I’m picking that facility and Mark every single time.

...

The odds of it being cancer aren't even that high.

My mom actually saw Mark (the elder) privately, and everything was sorted out in five days flat, weekend included. As far as I know, those guys are the absolute authorities in their field, so you're making a killer choice.

Don't let it get to you, please—it ain't over till the fat lady sings! 🙂

Hang in there! Even if it turns out to be some crap, at least you caught it early. It's just a temporary setback; you'll fix this and move right along!
You're a fighter, and honestly, that's what matters most.

And we're all right here to back you up.🙂

Just thought I’d chime in with a few words...

Hmm... me, and just a few words. It's a struggle. 🙂

Work is absolutely crushing me lately. Honestly? It’s probably for the best. At least it keeps me from sitting around wallowing or overanalyzing my own life. I head out in the morning like I’m heading into a coal mine, and by the time I get home, I'm exhausted. My brain feels completely fried, just totally spent. I end up sitting there, staring blankly at the remnants of my own panic, fear, and sadness... watching them drift through my mind like spiderwebs.
The kid is at the beach, so I figured I’d better get everything squared away before my vacation hits.
You know what? I used to struggle with finding the right way to put it. How do you even describe that specific kind of avoidance? Was it "running away to work"? Or maybe "hiding out in some cave"? I'd tell myself they were just burying their head in their work like an ostrich in the sand. It’s hard to find the words sometimes, isn't it?

Just watch how quickly everyone turns tail and runs when things get real—when they face a fight they simply can't win by brute force alone. Where is all that supposed heroism then?

You can't exactly fight the fear head-on. You either deflect it or you let it dance around you—let it spin in circles, maybe even join in for a little bit just to satisfy its ego. Let it snatch whatever small thing it wants while your back is turned. Don't say a word to it. Honestly? I think that’s exactly how it feeds. It grows on the silence. It gets heavier, more bloated, by the minute. Maybe just offer a dry "good morning, you little jerk" or a "good night, you creep." Just enough to acknowledge it's there, circling me like it always does. But don't ever open the door. Not even an inch. Not a single crack.
Maybe I should just tell him: Look, I see you. They told me you were assigned to me. My god, you’re massive. But listen—you are THERE, and I am HERE, standing entirely on my own. You get that, Mr. Fear? We are separate entities, each with our own philosophy, our own needs, our own loves... and frankly, I have no desire for us to bleed into one another.

So, I say something to him, he says plenty back to me, and then I just swallow my pride and walk away. Just biting my tongue and getting out of there. Day by day, the deadline gets closer. For God's sake, who's even going to be there to meet him?
I can't stand waiting. Honestly, I hate it. The impatience gets under my skin—it’s actually painful. Sometimes, if I'm being truthful, I become downright unbearable. Is there anything more aggravating?
I know exactly what this is. It’s just those guys at the top with their beards deciding I need a little lesson in patience—or maybe waiting, or salvation... who knows? They’ve managed to stir up some serious panic in my head. Realistically, nothing's actually serious yet. So, what am I supposed to do? Just wait for Dea?
I can only imagine how much patience I’d need to pull that off. To actually stand there in some endless line at the DMV, just waiting my turn with a halo of zen-like calm around my head? Not happening. 🙂
Oh man, how can I even say this? Honestly, I'm actually embarrassed.

Then I’ll be working like a dog. This coming weekend? It’s all about skating and swimming until I drop. Next week is the real grind—getting the apartment ready for new windows, packing everything into boxes. And how many times will I find myself staring at some old rag, a chipped mug, or a stray screw and think, "No, I can't toss this"? Because we all know the drill: the second it hits the trash, it’ll be exactly what I need. Or I'll fall for that even bigger lie: "I'll just fix it myself." 🙂
I swear, I’ve tried everything to shake this feeling. It’s like I’m constantly twitching, just restless, you know? And then there's this sensation at the very top of my spine—just that tiny, millimeter-sized tip—it feels like a shard of ice is lodged right there. Is this just how it goes? 😢

Placidjackal97, I saw you’ve been doing a lot of digging lately... I really hope everything came back clear. I hope you're feeling alright now. And honestly, thanks for the encouragement and for checking in. It’s funny, isn't it? Some people just lurk. They watch from the sidelines. But even those who just read... they have questions. They carry that fear around. Please, feel free to reach out via DM or email if you need to talk. What's the harm? Whether you message someone privately or post here among the few of us... what does it really matter? 🙂 So, honestly? I’m just talking out of turn here...

Hannah Barnes24... thanks for letting me know your mom had such a good experience with Nol. Just one more bit of encouragement to add to the pile.
And then he said it to me: Even if things are at their absolute worst, it’s such a small thing compared to how much bigger you both are... And thanks for the push, dear.

Dear Betty Rivera14, I am truly sorry they took that part of you away. It’s a shame they didn't see it coming before the surgery—didn't give you any real time or space to process it. To be able to adjust, to accept... to find some strange way to say "goodbye" to a piece of yourself? They should have let you decide. You should have been the one to choose to undergo an oophorectomy in the name of your own health. Sending you a massive hug.

I keep thinking about it... we women have so much vulnerability built right in. Uteruses, ovaries, breasts... there are just so many sensitive spots where that "beast" can strike.
We’re out here plucking leg hairs, grooming everything from our bikini lines to our eyebrows...
Painting our hair, our nails, our lashes—basically coloring ourselves from head to toe...
And someone might look at all this and say, "Man, being a woman sounds exhausting."

Sure, it is. But would I trade it? Not a chance! 🙂

Hmm... though, just out of pure curiosity, maybe for 24 hours. Just to see what it’s actually like to have that thing tucked in your pants. How do they live? How do they walk or sit with that whole situation hanging between their legs? 😁
And of course, most of all, I want to know what it feels like for them when they shove it into us. 🙂

But then again, maybe that’s a conversation for a different thread, right?
Or maybe, despite everything, we should just talk about it right here, in our little "secret" corner away from the guys. 😁

Kisses to everyone, thanks for listening!

So you’re saying both your mom and grandma were affected... which really points toward there being some kind of hereditary component at play here... but I’d love to dig a little deeper into the timeline if you don't mind me asking... how old was your grandma when she first got sick, and how old was your mom when her symptoms started... also, did your grandma or your mom have any sisters, and if they did, did they deal with this too, and do you happen to have any sisters of your own?

.. Yeah, my grandmother was my mom's mother.

I don't know the exact years when my mom was diagnosed, but I know she had surgery on the right side first—a relatively conservative procedure—and then two years later, she had both breasts removed. She has implants now.

My grandmother was 68 when she underwent surgery (between her right breast and armpit), then the whole armpit area, and then it just spread... she passed away four months later.

Mom is still alive.

Since I never lived with her and we don't really have a relationship, she barely answers my questions. I'm basically relying on memory and what my grandmother used to tell me.

I have one sister on my dad's side, 12 years older, healthy.

And one sister on my mom's side, 14 years younger, also healthy.

Mamam didn't have any sisters.

Two of my grandmother's sisters are still alive. Three have passed away; I know one died from cancer. Mirjana, the youngest, as far as I know, doesn't have cancer, or at least didn't... you see, I'll call her!!!
Since I couldn't remember, she’s young enough to remember the family situation, or at least have a rough idea!

Flala Klara, you're a lifesaver!!!!!!
God, I'm such a klutz!
Thanks, again.

Look, I’ll try to lay this out simply... there are basically two ways breast cancer can run in a family... one type follows a "vertical" pattern... where you see it in your grandmother, then your mother, then the daughters, and so on... BUT... the catch is that in every subsequent generation, the disease tends to show up at an earlier age... 😢

With the second type of inheritance... you don't see that straight vertical line... instead, the affected relatives are just scattered throughout the family tree... though it still happens significantly more often than in other families...

I'm telling you all this because if we're looking at a hereditary form—especially that first kind—then your younger sister should probably go get some preventative screenings done...

By the way... has there been any ovarian cancer or similar nasty stuff in the family history?

Claire, are you actually certain about this?
From what I’ve been told—and I've heard plenty of conflicting things on this subject—the hereditary link for cancer isn't even 100% proven yet.

Sam Gonzalez67 said:Look, I’ll try to simplify this... there are two ways breast cancer can be hereditary. One follows a 'vertical' pattern—grandmother, mother, daughter, and so on. But with that type, the disease tends to strike at an earlier age in each subsequent generation... 😢

With the other type, you don't see that vertical line. Instead, affected family members are just scattered throughout the pedigree... though they still show up much more frequently than in unrelated families...

The reason I'm telling you this is because if we're looking at a hereditary form—especially that first kind—your younger sister should definitely be getting preventative screenings...

By the way... was there any ovarian cancer in the family, or anything similar?

Ugh. 😢

There's logic to it, I suppose...
My grandmother was already quite old when it actually started growing in her breast—when did it truly begin? Who knows. With older patients, the progression is usually much slower...
My mother was maybe my age, but I don't know for certain... I just know I was an adult by then. Around 38? Somewhere in that ballpark, probably...
Who the hell knows. 😢

Anyway, my younger sister (she's 14 years younger than me) is a nurse. She even told me herself that cancer is a "beast"... and that while we might carry the gene in our genome, having the gene doesn't guarantee the outcome, but it means it could come for us too.
That's why we've been so hyper-focused on screenings, tests, the whole thing...
But that's also why this irrational fear is hitting me so hard right now. 😢

No, as far as I know, there hasn't been any ovarian cancer.
Everyone else in the family has dealt with kidney issues (except me, apparently), hemorrhoids (not me either, not even during childbirth), and everyone has large breasts... unlike me, obviously. 😠

Sam, do you happen to know more about genetics?
Is it possible for cancer to be recessive, appearing only when two recessive genes meet in a chromosome pair? Or is it a dominant type where you're just screwed, to put it bluntly?

And I'll head over to the Eljuga Clinic soon, where they'll take what little peace I have left... and then the biopsy will tell me it's nothing.
But once they see me, I won't be able to handle that blow, too. It’s simple math: when you try to quantify life events, or map out your life through numbers... well, this nightmare just won't fit into the equation.
It simply won't fit; it's too crowded. It's like trying to merge onto the I-95 during rush hour in the middle of downtown Chicago. Not a chance. You're better off walking. The weather is nice; let them walk. And let me, stuck in the middle of rush hour, be left alone!

Actually, yesterday was such a beautiful day. 🙂

I’ve spent quite a bit of time working with genetics and diagnosing hereditary conditions, though my focus hasn't specifically been on breast cancer... and honestly, if I were to start diving into the weeds with you about how inheritance works or the specifics of the BRCA1 and BRCA2 mutations, we’d just be sitting here while I essentially repeat whatever you could find in a quick Google search... which is something you can easily look up yourself anyway...

What I really meant to suggest was that you should try to gather as much info as possible regarding any family history of illness... it’ll give you so much more to work with when you're actually sitting down to talk things through with your doctors...

Keep your chin up... 🙂

I truly believe everything is going to turn out fine...

slyraven82 said:Purely from a mathematical standpoint, when you try to assign a specific number to life events or different eras—trying to map out your whole existence through statistics—it just doesn't compute for me.
It’s like trying to squeeze into a packed elevator during rush hour in downtown Chicago; there’s just no room left.

Spot on, champ.😉

Sending back a hug that I once desperately needed, which I eventually received from you.

🙂

Dea, I really have to tell you, I just absolutely love the way you write... the way you express everything you're feeling and how you basically "paint pictures with words" 🙂
and I honestly think it’s such a good thing, you know? Just being able to get all those confusing thoughts and emotions out there like that 🙂
so, I actually went in for a checkup yesterday: an ultrasound for my armpit and internal organs
what can I even say... I mean, deep down I had this gut feeling that everything was going to be fine, but still, that old familiar friend ANXIETY decided to drop by and pretty much followed me around for a while
but luckily, the results came back totally normal👍
it felt like a massive weight was lifted off my shoulders, and right then and there, that fear retreated back into its little cave where it just sits and waits for its next chance to show up
I can feel it getting a little weaker and fainter with every visit, though I’m pretty sure it’ll be sticking around for a long time yet
so, I've decided I'm not even going to fight it anymore; instead, I'm just learning how to live alongside it 🙂
Anyway, dear Dea, I'm heading to the coast tomorrow, so I won't be around the forum for a bit
but I'll definitely be thinking of you🙂

Hey Dea, I’m sending you so much strength and honestly just all the luck in the world—I really hope everything turns out okay 🙂 🙂

I just went through these exact same nerve-wracking weeks myself—well, actually, I'm still dealing with it with my Mom (it's been five years since her surgery)—and for now, the results look fine, though we have to go back and redo them in a few weeks

It’s going to be alright, seriously, just stay strong Dea—we're all rooting for you 🙂

...heading out to tackle some heavy housework..
Gonna put my hands to work—lots of work—just to keep my brain from spiraling...

Actually, I don't even like what I wrote above...

It’s fighting me. Honestly, it is!!!

Forget it, it isn't even an argument. It feels like PMS is starting to take the wheel... if only that were true! Which would mean I'm heading in for egg retrieval soon.

I ate such a massive amount of food today that it's probably just PMS. Which means a desperate hunt for chocolate is imminent in a few hours 🙂

I'm heading to the Museum of Contemporary Art to look for a small wooden barrel. I've decided to try making my own clotted cream this weekend. Maybe it'll actually turn out better than the stuff from the local deli! I'll check back in a few days (give or take five days after the last batch).

And what does that have to do with breasts, for God's sake!!!!!!!
Rachel Jackson39, absolutely nothing... I'm just talking nonsense. Bear with me.

Nat, thanks for the hug... but honestly, I just froze while reading... do you realize how much time has passed since then? 😲
Man, how time flies...... when life turns on you like that. And when you're stuck waiting....

darkviper5, have a wonderful time on your anniversary trip. It was smart to get those exams done before the break. Now all that anxiety has retreated into a hole and stopped buzzing around in your head: *hoo-hoo*. You really handled that perfectly! 😁
Swim, soak up the sun, enjoy yourself. When you get back—and this place will be full of jokes, wit, and confetti once more... well, you'll see!! 😉

Sam Gonzalez67, thanks for the support. Are you still working in genetics? If so, you have a fascinating job. More of a calling, at least, from where I'm standing 🙂

Kimberly Chase54, I'm keeping everything crossed for Mom!
Actually, I'm keeping everything crossed for all of us 🙂
Pope

Sam Gonzalez67 said:I've spent plenty of time working with genetics and diagnosing hereditary conditions, though it wasn't specifically focused on breast cancer...

seriously whenever you get a free second please write up some stuff about what you studied because I am super curious and I know everyone else here is too.

Dea, sending you nothing but the best results and tons of strength and good vibes...🙂

swiftbison7 said:Whenever you have some free time, please write a bit about your research, because I’m really curious, and I know the others are too.

I don't really dive into genetics much anymore, since my Master's thesis was actually focused on specific gene mutations found in men dealing with poor sperm quality...

there is honestly quite a lot to say about that topic, and it could be pretty interesting, but believe me when I say that dealing with medicine and being around illness for eight or ten hours every single day... even on the weekends... just takes a lot out of you.

you know, when you have the opportunity to be incredibly sharp every single day, especially when people are coming to you directly for an opinion that basically dictates their life—their actual destiny—then, trust me, finding the energy to write more on a health forum would feel like a massive chore, and even just reading through the posts might feel a bit heavy.

I truly wish we were all perfectly healthy here... and most of us are... at least until I happen to wander over this way every now and then.😢