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Basic health care for women, and just one example of how it is specific to female human parents (you may colloquially know us as “mothers”). A thread.
Last week I noticed that one of my armpits was visibly puffy compared to the other one. The breast on that side has been quite tender and lumpy.
I've been paying attention to my breasts over the past year since coming to the end of 11 years pregnant or breastfeeding aged 25-37. This reduces my cancer risk but also means I don’t know what “normal” feels like for my boobs.
I can’t understate how unnerving it is to find someone to look after your preschool aged 4th child while you go to the GP and have a suspicious spot on your breast looked at.
My GP was able to fit me in that day, but I had to pay $85 up front (with later medicare rebate) for the appointment. She agreed it needed investigation and gave me a referral for scans
The first available radiology was 2 days later, at 3:45 pm. At the exact half hour window in which I have to manage 4 kids school pickup, preschool pickup, and sport. Husband couldn’t do it and no way can I ask another mum!
Next appointment is 5 days later. “Are you comfortable with a male radiologist”? “When’s the next appointment with a female one?” “A week later” “…ok I had better take the soonest appointment”.
Then needed to do the ring around to ask who could take 4yo. Good luck keeping your personal medical details private when you need to explain to others why you need them to take your kid. Also good luck trying not to cry while asking.
Scan day today. School morning insanity and drop off, swimming lesson (poolside meal planning), grocery shopping, after making sure everyone else had food etc finally was able to shove food in my own face at 12:30 while driving 4yo to lovely friend’s house.
Get to appointment. “Oh sorry your GP has put ultrasound +/- mammography but we only have you booked in for ultrasound. Your 30 minute appointment is now 1 hr and we will need to discuss the additional payment”
Frantically sort out longer appointment with friend who now has an extra child (needing a booster seat) for her own school pick up. She doesn’t have enough seats but can walk because she got advance notice. I should still be able to scrape in to collect my kids. Phew
Called in. Had forgotten to expect a male radiographer. He’s very professional and I am not on principle opposed to having male practitioners but still… I was already feeling so vulnerable. Exposing my breasts and belly to a strange bloke’s hands is more than I needed.
Ultrasound seems ok but my age determines I’m a candidate for mammogram to be thorough. Very relieved when I’m handed over to a female radiographer for this. It’s extremely unpleasant but she is gentle and kind. I should email to the practice to give her praise.
Meanwhile office manager has decided that the receptionist is at fault (uh-oh) for not taking details of my referral correctly and so will bulk bill both scans. HUGE relief as cost of the mammogram would have means using the money set aside this month to pay (state) school fees
Dash home. At the school gate with seconds to spare. Friend drops 4yo home (having left her kids in the care of her oldest and the TV while making her own dash to me). She can’t ask how I am because of course I haven’t told the kids anything. We try for meaningful looks.
I spend the next 2 hours clearing the kitchen bench (previous night + breakfast + post school = apocalypse) and immediately move on to making dinner. Lying on the ultrasound table is the longest period of rest I’ve had all day.
Husband is out tonight and the next 2 nights. I’ll be putting kids to bed until 9:30pm. I’d wanted to serve dinner at 5:30pm to try and start heading off the late bedtime habit but it didn’t happen. Somehow feel like I have failed.
Will get results in 2 days or so.
Will get results in 2 days or so.
For me, it's likely mastitis or perimenopausal breast change. I expect a very relieving discussion with my GP. But can we please be clear. This barely skims the surface of what life in a female, mother's body is like. I am not an identity or a choice. This is reality.
