I hate this

I am at a very high risk for breast cancer.
My mother had breast cancer, and a year after she was diagnosed I had a biopsy which diagnosed cells that were "busy" (not 2 celled) and considered precancerous. I was 28.
I have been dealing with mammograms, biopsies, visits with surgeons and oncologists since I was 27.
I was told 2 years ago that my lifetime risk of breast cancer was somewhere between 20-40%. I am the lucky candidate who has to have MRI's with gadolinium every year in addition to my Mammos. My insurance pays for all this, since I am "in that risk group."
Most of the time I can talk about this part of my life matter of factly, like you talk about labor or your last physical exam.
But not now.
I was scheduled for my MRI in November. The surgeon's office called me to schedule it (like I would forget) and then set up my appointment to "review the results" with the doctor afterwards.
I set it up and did not think anything of it.
That is, until I felt a lump on Sunday.

It was new, and it did not feel good to touch. (it kinda hurt)
I know enough to know that the fact it hurt was "good news" but when I called and told the office staff that I found a lump a lump (that hurt), they moved the appointment to the next day.
I had my MRI two days ago.
I called the surgeons office to tell them that I needed to reschedule my follow-up to earlier since I changed my MRI appointment and made it sooner. They said "lets make it for November 8th, and if they find something we will call you and set up an appointment sooner, we will double book Dr._______"
Ugh.
I learned yesterday about two youngish friends I know who recently underwent double masectomies due to recent diagnoses of breast cancer and becuase of their high risk, they removed both their breasts. This hit hard.
It could be me.
As I told my mother this morning when we talked how anxious I was awaiting the results, she said "you are in the waiting time now, it is just hard."
She should know, she has been in this terrible waiting time more than once, just like me. And one time it was cancer.
I used to hold onto the fact that I was "young" for all this stuff when I was younger. This time I realize that I am not. I am 44 years old. I am not "young" for breast cancer any more.
Plus, my risk is high.
And though I am so tired of dealing with this after 17 years...
this is my life.
Waiting for results, yet again.