That's Not How We Do This

So the other week, while the boys were at VBS, I took myself off for my annual mammogram, being in that age group of ladies who apparently need such things. (And we could argue about the "need" terminology if we wanted but I'm kind of meh about the whole thing. I'd as soon not die of breast cancer. I'm pro finding it early if it's there. And I've had enough friends who DID find it early b/c of screening that I don't mind. It's not really all that bad for all there are loudmouths out there who say it's awful. It's just not.)

Anyway. Since I hit 45, the way it has worked is thus:

1) I get the mammogram

2) They send me home with a smile

3) A few weeks later I get a letter in the mail saying "Hey! Your mammogram looked great. See you next year."

So to me, post-mammo doctor silence is golden.

This year I have a new GP. Said GP is the one who ordered the test. And I guess the GP and the radiologists didn't talk to one another about how it has ALWAYS gone down, because this week I got a message from my doctor while the phone was charging. "Hi this is doctor assistant from doctor's office, please call us."

Um. Okay?

I'm kind of of the opinion that messages like that are the medical equivalent of a boyfriend saying, "We need to talk."

Nothing good ever follows those words.

So. I call back. But said doctor's assistant is busy and will call me back. I'm like, can't you just look in my chart and see what she was going to say?

No. No they can't.

Great. So I wait. For like three more hours. At first I'm wondering why. Why did they call. Then I'm like oh. I had a mammogram last week. And my wheels start to whirl because THEY ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO CALL WHEN EVERYTHING IS FINE.

So panic and anxiety ensue until the lady calls back. 

To tell me everything was fine.

I managed to politely thank her all the while cursing her in my head. Because that is not how we do this!

But still. Yay.