Regulation Thermography Testing

Let me tell you a story in the continuing adventures of my breasts. (Yeah, one of them was removed, but nevertheless I still feel that somehow I have two boobs. Weird, or what?) Okay, here it goes:

Last week I went off for some regulation thermography testing, which is screening based on body temperature – it essentially looks for areas of your body that are more hot or cold than would be expected, which could indicate an issue at play. Honestly there is debate on both sides of whether this is really effective screening. Some countries use it, others don’t, and I think recently thermography was studied as an alternative screening method to mammography (who by, I don’t remember, I read so many things) and wasn’t found significant enough with the results.

But frack all that, and you want to know why?

Because I’m down to yearly breast screenings. On top of this, no one seems to want to give me anything more than a mammogram. Forget that dense breasts don’t jive well with just mammogram screening – that’s only one point that really gets me frustrated. . . the even bigger annoyance is that this is radiation being shot repeatedly into an area of my body I already 100% know is vulnerable to cancer.

Boszky!

Sorry. I didn’t mean to go crazy, it’s just the lack of options – I mean good options that doctors are actually willing to prescribe without fear of it hurting the budget, are very limited.

Wow. I’m getting off track. Let’s try again. Last week I went for regulation thermography testing, because I wanted to peek in on the ladies and surrounding areas for an update. There’s a clinic in Carp that takes readings of your entire torso, and it’s quite interesting to see how the varying temperatures are interpreted.

What happens for this type of thermography testing? You don’t get light or heat shot through you, instead they take many, many, many temperature readings across many, many, many points on your body.

First, they get you cozy. I had a skirt on, so was given a blanket to wrap up in.

Then, they measure some points for temperature.

Next you take off your clothes and sit there in the cold. Well, you take off all your clothing minus some underwear. I borrowed Zsolt’s loose boxers for this occasion – they did the trick and didn’t cut off any circulation (since no tight clothes were allowed)

Once cooled, you temperature is taken again all over the place: point after point after point. I wonder if these correspond to acupuncture points?  Anyhow, once the test has finished, there’s a print out.

The technition said she needed to look at it in detail, but reviewing it quickly, she told me that my breast looks fine though it seems I’m having some kind of digestive reaction to something. Yeah, that just about sounds right, my GI has been messed up for a while and I’m still on the long road of fixing that up.

It was a good scan, and I’ll likely get it done again. I like that it’s non-invasive, not done in a hospital, and the lady was really compassionate. I like the results too – particularly that she noted my digestive issues. Now, of course, I’ll have to consider mammography, ultra sounds, MRIs etc in the future . . . but for now, I’m just glad to have been reviewed in a way that doesn’t leave a footprint on my body.

And that is the story of regulation thermography testing.

(P.S. It’s raining cats and dogs today, though my mom always points out that above the clouds the sun is shining, and we’re going to start packing our stuff tomorrow for next week’s move. We are getting outta my parent’s house. Happy days and exciting prospects ahead!)

(P.P.S. This entire post (and entire blog) is just a recounting of my personal experiences, not a recommendation of any kind for any sort of treatment, screening, whatever. I just wanted to share, is all. If you have questions, take them to a professional.)

(P.P.P.S I have a sense my storytelling was rather flat this post. Can we please blame that on the weather? Thanks.)

Breast Fest Travel Subsidy

Rethink Breast Cancer is this awesome Canadian organization that supports young women diagnosed with the disease, and stays very cool and fun while doing it. Okay, I know breast cancer isn’t fun, but this is a fantastic organization – they help in big ways.

ANYHOW. This coming November is the Breast Fest Film Festival in Toronto. Rethink has asked us to spread the word about their travel subsidies for new ‘young’ breast cancer survivors (if you don’t like that word, feel free to mentally replace with whatever adjective you choose). This is a really fantastic festival – it’s not a downer whatsoever. Zsolt and I went last year and had a wonderful time; it’s a great chance to connect with other women impacted by this crap called breast cancer, and find fun, strength and meaning from the films and discussions.

And guess what? They have a travel subsidy covered by Rethink and a portion by Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. Here’s the guidelines for who qualifies for free transportation, accommodation and entrance to the festival:

To be eligible you must be between the ages of 20-45 and have received a breast cancer diagnosis within the last 2 years. You must have never attended Breast Fest or received a subsidy from the CBCF. In addition, you agree to share your contact information with the CBCF.”

My two year window has thankfully passed (wooohooo!), but if you’re reading this and think you’re at a place where you’d like to connect with other young women and this amazing organization, don’t hesitate to get in touch with them and apply for the subsidy. The deadline is September 14th – so move fast! Believe me, they do things with class and style. It’s not a weekend to wallow in the misery of cancer, it’s about celebrating life and being open about this problem.

Here’s the link. http://www.breastfestfilmfest.com/index.shtm Happy viewing!

 

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The tragedy and the miracle

Two weeks ago around this time Zsolt and I were in New York visiting the September 11th memorial site. It’s an open-space with construction happening all around and tourists & New Yorkers dispersed between the two fountains where the towers once stood. It’s surreal in a way; I remember my first year of university and getting ready to go to class when I heard something on the radio about a plane crashing into a building in New York City. It didn’t sound right, it had to be a bad joke. I left the house. Rode the bus. Went to class. Sat in class. Found out it was real. Came home. Watched what happened over and over in replay.

Horrible. It’s hard to be reminded that life serves tragedies just as equally as it serves miracles.

The fountains that pour down in the memorial park evoke sadness. There’s such a sense of sadness. With the names of those who died rimming the fountain, the water slides away and tumbles downwards into the black pool, then again it falls into the ground, out of sight. It’s about falling . . . falling and remembering, falling and weeping . . . it’s about the lives that were pulled down into we-don’t-know-where. I’ve never seen a memorial that was so effective in evoking a remembrance of loss. Yet at the same time it’s beautiful to watch the water fall, to feel the spray lifted by the wind, to trace your fingers over the names.

I’m sorry for what happened on September 11th. I’m sorry for the people in Syria who are getting massacred. I’m sorry for people who are torn from their families. I’m sorry for people who get sick before they’re ready. I’m really just sorry for all of these hardships that can make life seem unbearable.

And I’m thankful for the compassion people can show to one another; thankful for their courage to be resilient against a tyrant; thankful for the bonds we form with total strangers; thankful for a smile given on the street; thankful for the moment that is peaceful, even if the world feels like it’s crumbling.

Anyhow. I meant to write about what’s been going on since we’ve gotten back from Europe . . . but then I look at the calendar and it’s September 11th, and this is a day that cannot be forgotten. I’m sure there are many days that cannot be forgotten for many people – both tragedies and miracles alike.

Today I’m thinking about those who know what it is to be helpless, and I’m hoping for as many as possible, they can find some peace despite the chaos.