I’m not sure why I’m writing this now, but I think I need to document it so that I don’t forget what I’m feeling.
On Wednesday 4th June, I went to the breast clinic to get the results of a biopsy that was taken from one of my breast cysts. I’ve had these cysts for years and they have all grown as different times over the years; some were big, some small, some burst before they could be drained. My right boob has a small cluster of cysts that they can’t do anything with, just drain when they appear.
During my last visit for a lump on my left breast, the ultrasound lady wanted to take pictures of my right one to compare it to previous ones. She wasn’t happy with a thicker lining of one of them, so she said that she was going to make a small cut to take a biopsy and was I ok with that? Absolutely, do whatever. So, she pummelled my anaesthetised boob and left me with a lovely big bruise as a souvenir.
Conversations were had at home about what it could be. In my head, I had thought it might be an operation to finally remove the cluster and give me some peace from constant mammograms.
The day of the appointment, Emily came with me whilst Simon and Hannah were at work. It was just another appointment. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The nurse collected me and walked me to the consultant’s room. He was already there with two other nurses. Not a problem, I’ve had trainees in with me before. Then he started talking. …” not what they were expecting” … “all surprised” … “there are cancerous cells”. My heart sank. This can’t be happening. I have Emily with me; this is not fair on her. I think I listened, I know I wasn’t. Not a triple negative. Negative oestrogen, negative Her2, score of 3 of something but I can’t remember what. Why do they try and tell you everything when your whole world is imploding around you?
The MacMillan nurse took me into a room with a couple of comfortable sofas for a chat and to give me some information. A pink plastic wallet. It reminded me of the baby Bounty packs. Welcome to your cancer pack.
I tried to be calm and to listen. I answered the phone to the MRI department. I think I did everything I was supposed to. Thank you, see you soon. I walked out into the waiting room, saw Emily and couldn’t hold it in. She hugged me tight and for longer than I thought she would. She put her arm in mine, and we walked arm in arm to the car. I called Simon, he didn’t answer. I can’t call Hannah, she’ll be devastated, and I can’t have her driving home from work like that; she’ll crash.
Every thought in my head was for everyone else. How do I tell my brother? Work? Friends? Simon called me as I was driving, I stayed calm, tried not to cry more, stayed strong. I got home. Ordered a pizza, cuddled Emily and just waited for Hannah. She cried, I cried, I stayed strong. Simon came home, I cried, we both stayed strong. I slept.
When I woke at 4:15am, I really wasn’t coping. And that’s how I was for over 24 hours. It was a shock. So, I took the Thursday and Friday off work.
May Contain Nuts 
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