Breast cancer.

HI Les1963 so sorry to hear you have cancer, the invasive ductal carcinoma means the lump is in the soft tissue of your breast, nothing more, if is was DC in situ it would mean that the lump was contained in the nipple area, just words not meant to be scary but they are.  Any cancer dignosis is the most scary thing to have, wiaitng is a killer, hopefully you will not have to wait too long before you get your treatment plan at which point you will start getting a feeling of control back, if you can take one day at a time, once you have your treatment plan post it here and other amazing women will be able to offer you support.  All the treatment is doable, it is an endurance race, you are obviously a strong women, you can do this.  Love from Ann

Thanks Ann, been busy cleaning house to preoccupy my mindset coz it's always the days I'm on my own that I wobble.

I had joined a forum on Facebook but found out when my sister in NZ had it pop up on her page that it wasn't Private so I removed myself within 40mins and deleted it from my page where it popped up. I'm limiting who I want to share my news with.

I was told to stop taking my HRT on 10th May when my diagnosis was given coz I'm OESTAGEN + HER2 -, and I was told then that I and lucky it wasn't double + as we're be looking at a different outcome.

I started reading all the MacMillan books I collected from the hospital, just 9 that I thought would give me an idea of what to expect and unfortunately I got so engrossed in trying to absorb it all my husband thinks I fried my brain. 

You sound like your either on the other side now, which can't come soon enough for me, or your going through what I'm waiting for..... Hospital team have told me I have time to spare but what is that meant to mean.

I do try taking each day with good intentions but brain and massive thoughts keep combining and then I'm back scared and wonder why this is happening.  Stress sadly. I'm a worry wort and sensitive and a germafobe.

Hi Les1963 and another warm welcome to the club none of us wanted to join. Sorry you find yourself here, but it’s a great place for support and shared experiences. Your rollercoaster analogy is very familiar to folk here and you are definitely at the tortuous limbo stage of tests and seemingly endless waiting. Somehow you will get through this time and, once the medics have all the information they need about your specific case, they’ll come up with a treatment plan tailored to your particular beast (I called mine the beast). I am guessing that the hospital team saying you have time to spare refers to the fact that even aggressive cancers grow relatively slowly and things don’t change significantly during the ‘gathering information’ stage. But of course it’s beyond frustrating when you just want (and need) to know what’s in store for you. Horrible horrible time. 
Sending love and a big virtual hug your way, keep posting and asking questions, or just have a rant here it’s all better out than bottling it up. Safe place here and people who ‘get it’. Xxx

Hi Les1963, echoing all the kind thoughts of the kind folk on here. I’m coming out the other side of treatment & have only recently felt strong enough to reflect, offer & take words of support on here, so, in my book, you’re doing brilliantly just to have reached out.

Your post really resonated as I had a really rocky road during the diagnostic stage & also felt very like you say about the feeling like ‘me’ & being heard whilst everything felt like it was outside my choices. 

I found a small hard lump in my right breast in May last year. Saw GP the next day who referred me to the Breast Clinic which was only a 2 wk wait but seeing ‘suspected cancer’ felt a bit damning. I sort of knew anyway as I’ve been twice before, being lumpy, but this was completely different. I had private healthcare so chose to attend the one stop breast clinic privately which saved a week. 15 minutes into the appointment, the consultant asked if I was worried about this lump. When I said yes, & asked if it was a ‘scarey’ lump his answer that it was a very scarey lump & that in his  professional experience what he was feeling was cancer was just the start of one devastating thing after another. I had a mammogram followed by ultrasound & biopsies (the radiologist also said she was looking at cancer). Fun day out!
I had an MRI two days later, then a CT scan three days later before the next Consultant appointment two days later. The scans showed the small hard lump, & a large mass behind it (that I wouldn’t have felt). Ok, so things were looking worse than I anticipated. But then the consultant began the ‘and’ conversation that I never signed up for. The ct scan showed something on my spine ‘and’ there was something on my ureter ‘and your left breast doesn’t look good either’. Such flippant words for my world falling apart around me. So…back off for ultrasound (lovely radiologist forcing me to look at the screen at what were just cysts on the left side…phew) & more biopsies on ‘the big one’. Then referred to a urologist, booked in for a bone scan & referral to an oncologist. Week 3 Appointment to find out what sort of cancer revealed ER+ P+ Her2- (apparently this was the best one to have - def wasn’t feeling like it to me, sitting there in my bubble) & there was lymph node involvement. One was fast growing & one was slow - covering all the bases, lol. Then the bone scan was ‘missed’ so a two week wait.
Meantime I met with the oncologist who is the kindest, gentlest & most supportive person during this whole thing. Quite a game changer for me. When I couldn’t get a grip on the tears, his quiet reassuring words that I should know that all this was too much for anyone to process strangely made it all more doable. He frankly, kindly & weirdly positively went through all the treatment plans that were on the table even before we knew where we were at, so I at last felt there would be a plan rather than the big ‘GameOver’ flag that I’d felt was waving over me (dramatic or what).  
First bone scan done, wait for results & tada…it probably wasn’t cancer elsewhere but a different scan was needed to confirm things for sure. Another wait for the scan then results & then…YAY, no cancer elsewhere! Then things happened very quickly - a stent in my crazy kinked ureter so my kidney would drain properly during chemo & 6 days later a full mastectomy & 15 nodes cleared, 9 of which showed cancer which made chemo a ‘no brainier’ (not my words). 
I’m babbling on, and I know I was incredibly lucky to only have a week or two between scans & results, but it was still 6 weeks of awful uncertainty which really took it’s toll & impacted on my attitude towards a lot of the rest of the treatment - both good & bad (attitude, that is). I was reassured that things would not have escalated in this time & that it was best to know the best way forward before starting any treatment. In short, hang in there because you’ll meet a lot of people on this journey & it takes just one or two who you really relate well to that make it all easier. I can only say all this in retrospect & a bit of counselling which has really helped get a bit of perspective. As I’ve said in other posts, I really am not a hero about any of this & can’t quite believe it all happened, that I did do it (not always gracefully, mostly with a lot of tears) & I can only send reassuring hugs that, as others say, one step at a time is the way to go. Keep asking questions & listen to the people who you feel heard by the most & relate well to, & let the others do their professional but detached best. Fingers crossed that all your upcoming results give clarity & show the way forward more clearly & hopefully more positively.

Kindest thoughts,

Jo xx