It's a Friday evening, the start of June. Me and my partner are laid in bed having a cuddle when he suddenly starts poking away at my boob.
"Can you not?" I told him, pushing his hand out of the way.
"What's that?" he asked, persisting with the prods.
I batted his hand out of the way again and had a feel for myself. Nothing. He was such a hypochondriac, it was starting to spread to me! Except wait, maybe I could feel something? It did feel a little harder on the left boob than it did on the right. Has it always been like that?
"It's nothing," I told him. "I'm fine." I had no history of anything breast related in my family, 26, in perfect health. It's most likely a cyst.
"I don't know, maybe you should check get it checked," he suggested.
"Fine," I sighed. "I'll phone the doctors up Monday morning to get an appointment. There's no point worrying about it now. Let's get some sleep."
Except I didn't sleep, at least not very well. Monday came around and I managed to get a GP appointment the following day. She had a feel around and she referred me to the hospital.
Less than 2 weeks after I had found the lump, I was sat in the hospital on my own in a lovely green gown. I'd not told anyone as what's the point in making people worry?
One woman came in, had a feel, left. A man came in, had a feel, sent me back to the waiting room. I was called in for an ultrasound, where two women stood around me scanning my boob and underarm. I went back out into the waiting room. I was called back in for a mammogram, where another woman very kindly squished my boobs into pancakes. Back to the waiting room. I was then called back into the room where I'd had my ultrasound where 4 women now stood, asking if it was okay if they were there.
"The more the merrier," I joked, internally laughing to myself that more people had seen my boobs today than ever throughout my life.
They took a biopsy, and some samples from lymph nodes, chatting to me all the while about my new puppy and about the weather and all things normal. They finally let me put my clothes back on. Hurrah!
I went back into the waiting room and was then called back into the ultrasound/biopsy room.
"Sorry, Rebecca. The doctors want us to put a titanium chip in your breast so that we can monitor everything."
"Sure," I said with a smile. They were going overboard with all this for a bit of a cyst weren't they? So back off my clothes came, with a beautiful purple gown this time.
Some vigorous metal prodding later and the chip was in place. They sent me for another mammogram to check it was in the right position and showed me back to the waiting room. I was definitely getting my steps in today.
A nurse called me into a new room and disappeared for a bit, then came back with the original lady and man that had poked at my boob along with a new nurse. They all sat down, while the man spoke to me. I nodded along to everything he had to say, taking it all in. Once he was finished talking, I was left with the nurse. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea. I joked around saying I couldn't have a tea because I'd been holding a wee in for three hours. She showed me to the toilets and, in that horrid purple gown, that's when everything the man had said hit.
S**t, I have cancer.
