Breasts Examinations: An Educational Post
Some people might think that with all the blogging and on-line lurking, I don’t study anymore and I probably don’t know anything about medicine. Excuse me lang, ha? Nag-aaral kaya ako! Hence, to prove that I do know a few medically-related things, every week I’ll try to provide my readers – They’re, like, so many. Kaka. Three sila actually. LOL - with educational posts such as this, so, that I can say I’ve been productive and I did my part in imparting my medical knowledge to general public.
I thank you.
————————————-
Question: An asymptomatic 35 year old female comes to you for routine exam. She has no family history of breast cancer. Based on the existing guidelines for early detection of breast cancer, this patient at standard risk should be advised to do which of the following?
- Perform breast self-examination monthly
- Obtain physician performed breast examination annually
- Begin yearly mammograms
- Obtain genetic testing
- Wait until age 40 to begin cancer screening
Answer: A. Breast self examinations should be done at the age of 20 and above. Physician performed breast examinations should be done every 3 years from ages 20-40 then annually. Yearly mammograms are for those 40 years old and above with high risk such as family history of breast cancer in the family.
DocM: So, do you girls do your monthly self-breast examinations?
Girls in class: Yes, doc.
JaneDoe: Ikaw, [Mistress]? Do you regularly perform self-breast examinations?
Mistress: My boyfriend does it for me regularly… LOL. Joke!
Badly In Need of Listerine
TheRider and I knew each other from the same hospital where I used to work. He was a friend of HotVolunteer. Despite the fact that we have seen each other occasionally around the hospital, he had never approached me personally, except for the occasional “Hi, doc” at the Dietary. He started out as JaneDoe’s textmate and when she obviously wasn’t into him, as boys were in the popular custom of passing cellphone numbers of cute girls they knew, my cellphone number was passed from HotVolunteer to ShyVolunteer then finally, into the hands of TheRider.
He didn’t have HotNurse’s hotness nor flirting charisma. In fact, TheRider was a very shy guy, quiet most of the time, and he was one of those guys who were into constant texting, the type who goes:
Hav u eaten? Iv eatn alredy. Dis rice & fish s gud. Im dun eating. How bout u? WUD? How bout now, wud? Im toking w frends. U? Wud? Im hir @ d 2nd flor of d hospi. Now Im hir @ d 3rd flor of d hosp. Now Im in d 4th flor. Wat bout u, WUD? [Mistress]? R u bz? Its 7 pm, hav u eaten alrdy? Im havin chcken. Im dun now. WUD? Wat bout now, wud?
I had just gotten out of a severely confusing and unrewarding relationship and found him to be the most convenient rebound guy. Hence, when he started courting me, I went for it, thinking, Hey, what the hell. He seems like a nice guy. I know he’ll treat me well.
As all nice guys go, it takes some time for them to be comfortable enough around girls. I was in the throes of another new love so I looked very much forward to that first kiss with him. I remembered one particular time when I wanted him to kiss me but I ended up annoyed with him, looking up at the sky instead and watching the clouds change colors, as he was not making his moves. AT ALL.
Until one day, I finally told him that it’s about time that he should start kissing me.
The dam broke.
As he slowly brought his head down to mine and his lips finally parted, I sensed that something was off. It wasn’t his technique. It wasn’t the way he rolled his tongue. It wasn’t the way he lapped on my lower lips. It was something else.
Out of all the five senses, it was that of my olfactory that was viciously waving the red flag.
He had HALITOSIS.
Now, as a doctor, I know that most people who have bad breath do not realize that they suffer from this disease because the stench most frequently originates from the back of one’s throat. A simple round of brushing cannot eliminate the offensive odor easily since this is usually a result of a combination of decaying teeth and chronic neglect of deep gargling as well as brushing at the frequently neglected posterior and undersides of one’s tongue.
I, at first, thought that maybe it was me. And was I mortified!
So, I immediately headed to my dentist, had my teeth cleaned and my aching molars removed, regularly gargled and brushed my teeth, including all sides and crevices of my tongue. Thousands of pesos later, I was finally confident that there was no way that the kissing offense was going to happen.
Until of course, I ended up making out again with TheRider.
It was HIM alright.
He was the one who had bad breath. He was the one who was making me gag as I pretended to be seriously enjoying the Frenchkissing. He was the one who didn’t brush his teeth or gargled often enough.
After the said incident, I started noticing small things about TheRider which used to be insignificant enough for me to take notice, like how he never brushes his teeth after a meal even when we’re at his own house and we just had a meal together, or how he wasn’t conscious about his breath even after we’ve just spent two hours not speaking to each other during a movie at a cinemahouse, or that sometimes, there’d be actual food stuck in his teeth.
The stupid things we ignore when we’re inlove.
When he decided that he wanted to break up because of certain reasons that had nothing to do with me (he apparently wanted to save me from being involved in some scandal he was involved in), I simply let him.
No regrets, no drama, no crying nor pleading infront of him.
I was finally free of him.
I was just relieved that I can finally enjoy breathing fresh air again.
*** UPDATE – TheRider did try to get back with me but halitosis aside, a guy who thinks he’s being a hero by dumping you to save you from the rumors? That’s just being cowardly. I want a man who can stand up for me. Throughout our relationship, I felt like I was settling for something less than I deserved simply because I was afraid of growing old alone. Besides, how long will I be able to stand kissing him before I end up telling him that I wasn’t enjoying the bad breath all? I mean, seriously, guys. Brush your teeth regularly and use mouthwash, for God’s sake!
She’s Not My Girlfriend. She’s Just a Friend.
TheDancer and I were hanging out at the mall together after I had asked him to go to the big city for a date with me. After watching a movie I had paid for (Did I mention that TheDancer can be such a cheapskate sometimes?), we were having dinner at the food court and catching up on each other’s life.
“So, what reason did you tell your Mom as to why you had to go to the big city?”
He shrugged. “I told her I needed to get something from ClosetKing.”
“She believed that?”
“Well, she didn’t really mind. She was kind of busy since my uncle just arrived from Saudi and was asking the relatives to drop by their house.”
“Oh.”
We proceeded finishing our dinner, in between talks of other more mundane things. After an hour or so, we decided to leave since he still had to catch a bus for the long ride back to his town. As we passed by a couple of tables, someone called him.
“TheDancer!”
He turned towards the sound of the person calling his name and mumbled under his breath, “S**t! It’s my uncle.”
I turned to look at the group of people walking towards us. “Who are all those people with him?”
“My cousins.”
Hmmm… so I was finally meeting the relatives, I thought. Because TheDancer lived quite a distance from the big city, I never had the opportunity to meet anyone in his family. We had been dating for five months and the most connection to his family that I got was occasionally talking to his mother on the phone and asking her if I could talk to his son.
As was the custom for most Filipino families, he took his uncle’s hand and lifted it to his forehead as a sign of respect.
“Uncle.”
“What are you doing here?” his uncle asked, looking at me, and then at TheDancer, and then me, again. His uncle looked like the typical rich OFW, with the unbuttoned shirt halfway through his chest and a huge gold medallion on his neck. Add the carrier suitcase with wheels and the airport cart and he could be the poster child for Duty Free.
“We watched a movie and had dinner.”
“Who are you with?” he asked. I could feel his cousins staring at me from head to foot, sizing me up.
He pointed to me. “My friend.”
It was as if a thousand daggers miraculously came out of nowhere and flew straight into my chest. I ignored it and smiled at his uncle, albeit, a little uncomfortably.
“How’s your mom?” he asked.
“She’s at home. She said she was going to drop by your house today.”
“We must not have been able to catch her arrival.”
“Yeah, maybe… Listen, uncle, we’ll go ahead,” said TheDancer to his uncle, briefly patting his uncle’s arm.
His uncle nodded. “Oh, okay. You guys take care.”
One of his cousins decided to choose that moment to tease TheDancer. “Hey, bro. Is she your girlfriend?” he asked, as he nodded towards my direction.
TheDancer looked at me briefly and then turned to me. “No, she’s just a friend.”
I felt like another thousand daggers had stabbed my chest.
“Oh, come on. She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?” his cousin taunted, grinning at TheDancer mischievously.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.”
Another thousand daggers pierced through my chest.
TheDancer patted his cousin’s arm. “Hey, we have to go. I’ll see you guys later.”
I smiled briefly at his uncle and his cousins as I followed behind TheDancer. As we finally left them, walking away from the food court, I slowly tried to remove the three thousand daggers sticking out of my chest and cursed him in my mind.
It was a given that he definitely didn’t get any from me that night.
