Last Tuesday I stumbled out of bed after Saint Mike and Oldest KAT had left for work and school respectively.
As is my usual route I made a bee-line for the kettle anticipating my morning caffeine hit. As I stood there I scratched my left armpit. In the process, my fingers grazed my boob. Cue the thought bubble "hmnnn what's that?" Followed hot on its heels by "When did that lump get there?".
As I sipped my coffee I contemplated succumbing to my natural instinct to catastophise and decided not to fight it! As soon as the doctor opened I called to make an appointment and 2 hours later was being reassured the lump was "mobile" and probably just a cyst. However erring on the side of caution my doctor recommended a mammogram and ultrasound.
Obediently I called and made the appointment for the Wednesday. Although I told Mike I went to the appointment on my own.
Having trawled Dr Google it didn't take more than one image of the lump in question for even my untrained eye to establish this wasn't a cyst we were looking at!
An hour and a half later I wished I had asked Mike to accompany me! It must be a prerequisite of being a radiologist that you possess a poker face....the two ladies who did the tests were impossible to break. Finally I was told that the doctor was on the phone to my GP and wanted to do a core needle biopsy on said lump. Cue tears. Copious amounts.
Enduring discomfort is part of the female DNA and I won't lie and say the experience was pleasant but I knew it was necessary. When I finally drove home I did so knowing it would be 36hrs before I knew the results.
36 hours is a long time to be in cancer limbo. Long enough to think through the worst scenarios your mind will entertain.
By Friday lunchtime I was at the GP with my Saint on earth riding shotgun. There was a delay with the GP. We went for coffee and I stared our the window tears in my eyes. An ominous feeling deep inside me. Proved accurate when we were finally ushered in.
The "C" word. Directed at me. The GP tried to be positive. At least it's breast cancer. Eminently treatable! I tried to take it in but the tears were flowing and I felt like I was having an out of body experience. Not talking to me! Yes. She is.
The rest of the day a blur. Straight home to get clothes for the girls. Beseeching neighbour and friend to take the girls then off to the hospital to see the surgeon.
This blog won't become a journal of my cancer journey....but I have to make a mark in the sand...I type this knowing I've already taken my first steps on a road I don't want to travel down. My only solace is that I do so with my wonderful family beside me and my friends supporting me.
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