Plugged

Yesterday I noticed my chest was hurting me whenever I picked G up, but it wasn't until late in the day that I realized the discomfort is a plugged milk duct. Crap. So I've been compressing to try to make it go away. I've started on lecithin so hopefully that will help. (I swear I take so much stuff for my breasts---B6, evening primrose, now lecithin).

I got plugged ducts when N was nearly 8 months too--I guess adding more solids really does a number on my ample milk supply or something. It isn't painful...just annoying. And the fact that it hasn't gone away instantly makes my OCD kick into high gear. It is like I have no control over my "teenage boy" hands --they just keep checking my boob to see if the plug has dissipated.

Unfortunately, in addition to the physical annoyance of the duct, it is also playing some psychological games with me.

That darn plugged duct I had with N was, in part, what helped launch me headlong into my breakdown in 2004.

Right around that time someone sent me one of those emails about the "rash" form of breast cancer (since it was in October--Breast Cancer Awareness Month). My breast was bothering me....and then I started having shooting pains after nursing N (ultimately diagnosed with a ductal yeast infection). I was convinced I had breast cancer---saw numerous dermatologists, had a nipple biopsy and still continued to nurse ( which is why I don't have a whole lot of patience for women who whine about how painful breastfeeding is and give up after 3 days of it and don't have stitches on their aereolas with which to contend ). Eventually saw a breast surgeon and had a breast ultrasound. Eventually was put on the right dose of medication to help alleviate my anxiety and lessen my OCD.

So this new plugged duct brings with it lots and lots of unpleasant memories. I thought I was "over" this...I thought I had moved on. But the breast discomfort has unlocked the brain compartment where I stored everything I thought and felt from that time. So I've been having lots of internal "chats" with myself: Carrie, it will go away. Carrie, it is not breast cancer. Carrie, you survived all this once you can survive a little plugged duct.

I guess if there is anything good about having a plugged duct and reliving some of this crud, it makes me really, really glad I have my medication. For a long time I mentally "fought" having to take my antidepressant and stewed over how long I might have to take it. Revisiting my breakdown reminds me how much I need my medication and that I need it for the long-haul.