I have breast cancer
That’s the first time I’ve written that down. There it is in black and white for all to see. Shit.
Let’s take that, rewind it back. 1st April I was getting ready for work. In the shower getting washed and felt a lump in my armpit. It was an eye roll situation. I’ve got a bloody cyst and I’m going to have to get that sorted. The dreaded fight with the receptionist to get an appointment. After holding for an eternity, the receptionist made the executive decision that a lump on my boob did not warrant an on the day telephone or face to face appointment with a GP. Tough luck. Ring back tomorrow. Now I’m fuming and wish I hadn’t of rang and spoilt my day. The next day at 8:30 I was in the queue gain ready for a fight but after 30mins again I had missed the appointments.
Bank holiday rolled in and I forgotten about the annoying ‘cyst’ until the next week. On the Wednesday I was caught up at work and back into my week and with a spare 30 mins in my calendar called the doctors again. The view of the GP had changed, and this was now absolutely a reason for an on the day appointment and within an hour a GP had called me back. YEAH! I had the option of an appointment the same day or if I couldn’t make it, he could see me in 3 weeks’ time. I took the next day. At the doctors some prodding and feeling about was done. My arms in all kinds of positions. Above my head, on my hips, tensing and relaxing. After an awkward 4mins (seemed like 4 hours) of me sitting on a bet with my tits out while a lass felt me up, I was given a referral to the breast clinic. Sorted. This was going to be a 3-hour appointment one stop shop. Anything that needed to be done would be done that day. Two days later a lovely nurse from the hospital rang to say my appointment was set for Friday 23rd April. Amazing. Let’s get this cyst drained.
The Breast clinic appointment rolled round. It fell on the same day as my first night out with friends, so I was in the best mood. Washed my hair for the occasion so I could get my jeans and a nice top straight on when I got back and get a cocktail in my hand. The doctor’s examination was first. Again, some touching and feeling and some ‘humming’ and ‘haring’ ad and ‘ok, this feels unusual’. Off I trotted along for my mammogram. The funniest 20mins ever being lifted and shifted into machines that did things with my little boobs that I had no idea they could do. Boobs sufficiently squashed, I went to the final stop of the sonographer. Again, some more strange man noises were made. (like when you go to get your car fixed. That noise they make when you know you're going to have to take out a mortgage for whatever it is they need to sort out). Pictures were taken and 5 punch biopsies were taken. He said he was then punching in a bit of metal so they could check for it in the future. I didn’t ask any questions but thought it was weird. (I’ll write that on my list of questions to ask lol.) Another mammogram to check for the piece of metal and someone took some bloods. Back to the consultant to end my appointment. So, this is was moment. This was the ‘you have breast cancer’ moment. I laughed. Sat there in a room with the consultant and a breast cancer nurse I giggled at him like he was going to shout ‘syked!’ at me in a second. He didn’t. I was then taken to a ‘quiet room’ with Laura the breast nurse. F**k. This was real. I was in one of ‘those’ rooms. The one where they make you comfy before hey fire all the worst news at you.
I have breast cancer. No waiting for results. No it might be or it could be. It's there for sure. Now Laura starts giving me so much information that my poor brain is having an absolute fit. It was like the generation game tying to remember and repeat all of the items on the convert belt wizzing past. Hearing words like ‘chemo’ ‘mastectomy’ ‘bring someone with you’ ‘don’t come on your own’ ‘here’s a Macmillan card’ What in Christ's name. She left me in the room to get me an appointment for a CT scan and all I could think was I wish I had brought a pen and pad lol hoping that all this would be sent in a letter and it wouldn’t be my responsibility to remember it all! 10 days. She said I would have all the information in 10days. In between that I have a CT scan then it will be only 1 week till I have a plan. That’s not too bad.
