25th November 2016. Hospital appointment for results of biopsy. At this point I was still going to work amongst the appointments and the worrying. I'd told my kids there was something wrong and that these appointments were to find out what it was.
I waited around thirty or forty minutes in the waiting room with my partner trying to control the panic inside, because although I KNEW there was something not good, I didn't really want to hear it. I had also hoped that I'd read the situation wrong and that it wasn't cancer after all.
Here we go..... the biopsy of the lump in my right breast was reported to be an invasive ductal carcinoma grade 2 which stains positive for ER and negative for HER2.
The consultant talked about the lump being difficult to feel, so I would have a wire inserted through the lump just before surgery to guide the surgeon to the correct place. The consultant talked also of removing a sentinel lymph node to test, this would define whether the cancer had started to spread via the lymphatic system. The sentinel node would be found by means of injecting radioactive dye into the nipple. This dye would travel to the lymph nodes, but to the sentinel nodes first.
I was told that when the lump was removed, they would also take a margin of breast tissue around the lump to test it. If this margin is clear, they've got it all. We also discussed the fact that if it were not clear, then I may find myself having more breast tissue removed, or also ending up having a mastectomy worst case scenario.
Radiotherapy for two weeks would be organised if margins were clear and the lymph nodes showed no cancer. I was expecting to have one month off work all together.
I was keen to have this treatment as soon as possible, so it was planned for the 7th December.
Again, a sit down with the breast nurse, this time I said, I just want to get out of here, can we make this quick. She did, and we did.
I went from there straight to the pre-assessment department where they made me an appointment for the following week.
I turned up on the Monday morning, to be told my appointment was Tuesday. Fuzzy brain!
Attended again on the Tuesday morning, with a bad cold. I was told to do whatever I can to get rid of it. Erm... ok. Bloods taken and height, weight, blood pressure, pulse etc taken in preparation for surgery the following week.
I went into work after this appointment, after having been missing for several hours over the last few weeks. I booked in my last few days holiday. I realised that although I had to let people know I wouldn't be in for a while, I didn't particularly want to be the centre of attention. I sat down with my two staff and told them I'd be off work for a while, and that I had breast cancer. At that point I realised that, although I can talk the hind leg off a donkey, I couldn't get that word out clearly without faltering. Cancer. Why is it hard? It's a word for goodness sake. So then I have a manager that I must go and see, and tell what is happening. Again, the word won't come out clearly. I asked that it wasn't widely known, that I wasn't ready to discuss it with the many people I interact with on a daily basis. I went to see a friend in another office who I have a close, very honest relationship with. I went several times and said nothing. The last trip to her office I forced myself to say, 'I keep coming back to tell you something and I can't'. She was puzzled and laughed. I just burst out in tears, 'I've got breast cancer!'. And immediately put my hand over my mouth as if the words had escaped without my permission! That was very hard, but I knew that her reaction would make feel better and it did. She hugged me, and I needed it. When I got home that day, I made a point of using the word in conversation with my partner, and he agreed it was jarring. I decided then, that I would have to increase my use of this word. I have cancer, saying it out loud will not make it any better or any worse!
My operation was bumped up to the 6th December by phone call that day.
I realise that throughout this blog I've not really mentioned my partner much. I think this is because he is with me always, whether physically next to me or far away, and goes through each and every step with me. I talk at him until my mind is clear on what is happening, or what choices I must make, or when I need some reassurance that I'm doing well. We discuss everything to the nth degree until we both know where we are. You could say that we both have breast cancer, but I'm the one who gets the treatment and sometimes, sadly, more support. Don't get me wrong, we are not perfect by any measure, but we are a team.
