Monday

I had just started a blog post when my doctor's office called me back.  This is at 530 pm.

"You need to be scheduled for a diagnostic mammogram."

I think I had that last Thursday.  But I don't know, for sure, because I let the HCP take care of me.  Apparently I should have ASKED what I was having my breasts squeezed for, as the radiology department hasn't told my doctor office yet.  I was told it was a diagnostic mammogram--that's what the piece of paper said-and an ultra sound.

Meanwhile, Ann from the Radiology department, had called, and I had went back in for some more views via the ultra sound. 

My doctor's office didn't know anything about this.

I have only had ONE FUCKING apppointment and two departments can't communicate with each other.

OK.  I have learned.  I will ASK and get IN WRITING whatever the hell it is they are doing to me.  I don't know "for sure" whether it was a FUCKING diagnostic mammogram or a "regular" mammogram. 

SO.  I still KNOW NOTHING.  Yes, I am shouting.  I was trying not to shout at the doctor office person.  She is to call the radiology department, in the morning, and clarify, DID I have the diagnostic mammogram last Thursday?

WHY IS THIS SUCH A FUSTER CLUCK???????????????????????????

Other than this situation, cleverly situated to the dinner hour and ruining my appetite for the lovely dinner my husband made, I had a good day off.

Ran my 10K around the block in 1.19.
Found a spot for my slackline and the husband helped install it.

Need to gather my clothing and gear for the 50 mile race this weekend.

At this rate, I don't see any additional testing happening this week.  So another week marches on.

I know the same thing I did, on Sunday August 5.  Absolutely fucking nothing.