After making myself hysterical with fear - although woke up this morning and said: "Whatever happens I will deal with it" (does one have a choice, really?) - I did not have to have a mammogram or scan after all.
When The Tango Man had asked me when my last mammogram was, I said "October", forgetting that when I found the lump below my armpit on Christmas Eve last year, I then had a mammogram plus a scan in January (there were no doctors in town to do one before).
So when I went there today, was called in to my appointment and then told that it was too early. It either had to be a year since my last one and now was three months too early, or six months since I finished radiotherapy. Now no clue when I finished that but do know, cos I checked via this blog yesterday, that I finished chemo on April 14, that is, six months ago so it's a far shorter time since I had radiation.
The woman who was gonna do the mammogram said she had had breast cancer 23 years ago and had had a masetcomy. By the same surgeon I had seen but who had decided not to operate on me.
"Didn't you have surgery?' she must have asked me about three times. And I explained that I did not have a primary tumour.