Just the other day, I had a very rare experience. I had a chance to do something few men get the chance to experience. And I am blessed to know that through this opportunity I am better off than I might have been without it.
I had a mammogram – or as I like to call it, a man-o-gram.
The impetus for this came about very suddenly. On the day before my 75th birthday, I noticed a pain in my left boob. (It’s okay to say ‘boob’, right?) I patted my shirt pocket lightly looking for something and felt a sharp sort of ouch. There was a small lump there.
I researched with Dr. Google and decided to wait a week to see if it would change, and when it didn’t get better (or worse) I went to see my doctor. As soon as he examined me and asked a few questions, he said he had a pretty good idea that the blood pressure medicine I have been taking – something called spironolactone – had likely caused a condition by the name of gynecomastia as a side-effect. At least, he was 90 percent sure it was that.
Gynecomastia is a swelling of parts of a guy’s chest where there usually is no swelling. (Dare I say ‘boob’ again?) It’s not dangerous and can happen in older men and in boys going through puberty. It’s not serious in the medical sense, but it shouldn’t be overlooked, because I guess being 90 percent sure that that’s what the problem is means there is a 10 percent possibility that it could be something else.
That 10 percent possibility of it being something else (read: cancer) sent me to the Women’s Center for a look-see. I was more than glad to seek a definitive diagnosis. I had a cancer battle about 10 years ago with a small nevus in my left eye, which left me blind in that eye, and I have been on the spy for any other possible strikes since then.
The people at the Women’s Center were all very nice and did not bat an eye as I sheepishly went through the process. (Sidenote: I asked my doc how many guys he sends off for a manogram, and he said about two or three a year.)
Now, I’ve heard that this scan is a rather uncomfortable procedure. I concur. At times, it felt a bit as if I was in a wrestling match with some sort of giant Scanner-Transformer that wanted to bite my chest off. And during the ‘fight,’ I was supposed to stand very still, and hang on tight, and stay relaxed, and hold my breath while the monster clamped onto me. To make things even more of a challenge, they took pics on both sides, though I was only worried about the left one. Just being thorough, I guess.
So I did the hopefully reassuring scans and they proved to be just that. Before I even left the clinic I got the all clear – it’s a just case of gynecomastia – which will pass in time, especially since I will be changing BP meds.
Lesson learned – and one I hope to convey: get those tests and scans done whenever there is any doubt about what might be the cause of your medical circumstance. It’s better to know for sure that it’s nothing than to merely hope that it is. Screening saves lives.