No, it’s not. It’s actually a little difficult to find. It’s on the south-west side of my breast. (Most lumps occur on the north-west side, or, the top of the breast, arm-side, extending upward toward the armpit.)
Breast tissue does feel a little lumpy. I’d describe it feeling almost like oatmeal cookie dough under the skin. But a lump stands out. When I felt mine, I immediately thought, “That’s not right.” Then I thought, “Oh, shit.”
The one I have is a pea-sized nodule. I wouldn’t call it hard, but it’s not squishy, either. As I said, I’m not really worried. I immediately went on the internet and started doing research to find out what I was facing. The statistics were somewhat reassuring, and my grandmother had a lump which turned out to be benign. That bit of family history leads me to believe that I might be succeptible to the same. In my grandmother’s case, they said it was better off left alone.
The sites I read said that with a younger woman, the doctors usually prefer to do an ultrasound rather than a mammorgram, (Breast density issues) but was rather vague about what my doctor would actually do.
I assume she will want to feel it to immediately rule out the possibility that what I’m feeling is normal, and I made a mistake in thinking it was a lump. Will she order an ultrasound or mammogram immediately? Or (shudder) try to draw fluid from it first?
When I first started seeing this doctor, she asked about all of my bumps, bruises and abrasions. After the exam, she set aside her clipboard and sat down in a chair across from me. She asked in a gentle voice if there was any physical abuse in my marriage. “Oh, no,” I said with a bit of a laugh. “I’m just really clumsy.”
She gave a small sigh, “You know that there are many resources for women who are being abused, and you can tell me anything, dont you? Anything.”
“Seriously,” I insisted. “I’m just really clumsy. Honestly. I mean, there’s an office pool on how soon I’ll fall down the stairs again.”
I don’t think she believed me. That is, until I was leaving her office and tripped over the chair on which she had been sitting. I lost my balance, stumbled into the wall, and conked myself on the head.
She never asked me about abuse again.