The ultrasound has the doctor sending me to a specialist. The tone of his voice says not to worry but the content is another story:
"The fibrous mass has changed in shape. Though it is not any larger, it is difficult to diagnose the nature of the growth without further investigation."
"I'll order another MRI and send you to so and so...."
The conversation droned into the background. I'm not 50 yet. There are not supposed to be things wrong internally. I feel fine. Except for not sleeping.
I hate surgery. In fact, in my Book of Rules, "optional surgery" is classed as an oxymoron.
I had surgery once. Gall bladder. All that lovely fried German food growing up.
I suppose I could try to look on the bright side. If they remove the growth and the ovary, I should at least lose some weight, wouldn't ya think?