Last Friday, we decided to re-introduce the “no midnight feeds” policy to Ewan. Two months before I started work, we succeeded in coaxing him to sleep through the night but the stress from adapting to his new environment made him clingy. Nursing became the most comforting way to soothe him. I gave in and the vicious cycle began, again.
So I slept on the floor mattress while Hubby took on the graveyard shift of patting him back to sleep whenever he stirred. It was probably an overly drastic idea because the next night, I came down with fever and chills. A hard, painful lump formed on my left breast.
Then I remembered some stories about how breast cancer started from painful lumps too. So my imagination went really wild. I teared at the thought of dying before my time. I’m not afraid of death but rather, what happens to my child when I’m no longer around. The more I thought about it, the more disturbed I became. God (in my case, Buddha), it would be nice of You to let me live a healthy life, at least until Ewan finds a good wife. Best if I’m granted the wish to see my grandchildren (minus the wrinkles, sagging boobs and greying hair). I spent the afternoon away from Ewan, curled up and immersed myself in intoxicating thoughts. That day, I hugged and told him how much I love him, repeatedly.
Enough of the drama, I finally dragged myself to the hospital after the chills continued. Upon checking, the lady doctor diagnosed it as breast abscess. I asked, “So it’s not breast cancer?” She looked at me, chuckled and replied, “No laaaaa!” But still, she wanted me to get admitted. Honestly, all I could think of at that time was the assignments scheduled the next day. No time to stay in the hospital. Yes, shame and lame. I opted for oral antibiotics, booked an appointment to consult a correctal surgeon the next day and went home.
The next afternoon, I met this very friendly, too-funny-to-be-a-doctor surgeon who seemed more concerned about the lump on my right breast rather than the left. More lumps? Great, just what I needed to know! “You’ll be unlucky if these are dangerous,” he said when I tried to dig further. Deep. My brain didn’t need that.
After being fondled by two different men and undergoing an ultrasound to determine the contents of these lumps, the results were out. “Onset of mastitis,” wrote the radiologist. I was asked to continue my antibiotics and monitor my twins. The damage was RM360, where only a fraction can be claimed. Another disadvantage working for a small company (but I’m trying not to complain considering the big, important perk I’m getting).
And so, I’m living. Still going to continue harrassing you all by blogging in half-past-six English. Lucky youuuuu…. 🙂