I really, really miss Dr. Baker.
Dr. Charin, (pronounced Sharon) a female, did the breast exam. She was calm, cold fingered, and seemed competent (and a huge relief not to have a strange man fondling my breasts, even if it WAS 1) painful, 2) necessary.)
She got out as much puss as possible from the lump and instructed me to continue with the hot water treatments twice a day, as hot as I could stand, and to squeeze as hard as possible from many different angles. When I awoke this morning, I had to get a kleenex and dab away the effluence. Yuck. What a way to awake.
I also had her examine underneath the left breast where two "liver spots" have developed a raised, irregular feel to them since last year, showing her the biopsy and removal scars from much smaller, similar areas on my hands, which were caused by exposure to the sun. She could feel what I was talking about, attributing them to "friction" (possible...)
I looked at her serious expression, then said, "I'm certainly not the type to suntan the underneath side of my breasts. Ever so sexy, you know."
Now, Dr. Baker would have cracked up. She obviously thought I had. Oh, well, at least the medical advice seemed sensible and in keeping with what Dr. Baker had me do last time. I go back in a week, unless it gets more painful, spreads, etc.
I did more shopping, got my license plates for the vehicles, filled the prescription and headed home.
Angie, whose husband runs the corner service station, explained how gas got down to $3.31 as she collected $35+ for the large sack of cat food that used to sell for $19. The Casey's station's gas was at $3.21. I didn't fill, as I'd only driven 78 miles on the last tankful. It will probably leap back up by the time I need to go in again.