It's Cancer

Thursday 20th September 2012. Hubby and I arrived at Wycombe General Hospitals breast screening clinic early. The appointment was for 2:30pm but after pacing around the house for most of the morning we could stand it no longer. "Let's go out for some lunch" I said.  So off we went to TGI Fridays. We both ordered a cheeseburger, which was the size of a house! I immediately knew that I wasnt going to be eating mine and it appeared that hubby  had also lost his appetite, so we asked for the bill. Our rather lovely, cheery waitress looked at us both as if we were a bit mental and asked us if there was a problem with the meal. We just replied that we weren't hungry! BIT WEIRD!

After we had paid our bill, the rather lovely, cheery waitress handed me the receipt with the rather lovely, cheery message written on the bottom. HAVE A FAB DAY! I have decided to keep that receipt forever!

We are now half hour early for my appointment but we head to reception anyway. The first thing I notice as I enter the room is that I am the youngest person there. I take my seat and hubby  and I spend the next hour making conversation about the paintings on the wall, reading leaflets and sometimes just staring at the floor. After what felt like an eternity, I am finally called in by the radiographer to have my mammogram. I am asked to remove my top and bra and my boob is carefully placed onto the machine. I am then pushed and pulled into the correct position and the machine comes down gently squashing my boob inside what can only be described as some kind of vice. I thought to myself that this isn't so bad when suddenly the machine gets my tit in the death grip!! JESUS CHRIST! I am like this for only a matter of seconds but my brain manages to think "Oh, what if there is a power cut RIGHT NOW" My brain is stupid.

This procedure is repeated on both breasts forward facing and then two more pictures are taken from a side view. I am asked to pop my clothes back on and wait outside.

Five minutes later another nurse named Jo calls my name. She explains that I now need to have an ultrasound scan. Again I remove my clothes and I am asked to lie down on the bed. Gel is squirted over my breasts and a doctor starts to scan over the lump, then around both breasts and under my armpits. He keeps stopping to take pictures. It's exactly the same machine they use when you're pregnant, so naturally I asked if it was a boy or a girl. I had an inkling that they may have heard that before. The doctor stopped what he was doing to inform me that there was indeed a lump there (I knew that) and that he would need to perform a core biopsy. RIGHT NOW!

I began to panic as I knew this involved injections and needles and I had told hubby to wait outside. I didn't want to be a baby but I realised that a panic attack could be on the cards here. I told Jo my predicament and she kindly offered me her hand. My breast was injected to numb the area first and then a small incision was made for the needle the doctor would be using to collect the samples.

I began to panic about being numbed and asked Jo if the numbness would stay in the one area or if it could spread. She told me I would just be numb in that area. "Are you sure" I asked "It's just I'm sure my face is going numb" Jo told me she was absolutely sure. Only my breast would go numb. "Oh" I replied "It's just I'm pretty positive that my arm and hands are going numb" Jo told me that anxiety does that. I was definitely not going numb anywhere else! (I was)

Anyway, the doctor took about six samples from my lump with what sounded like a giant stapler. Every sample taken made a really loud CLUNK!I jumped every time.

Once that was over and my little cut was dressed I was once again asked to put my clothes on but this time I had to head over to the outpatients department to see my consultant. I assumed this would be to explain to me what had just been done and that I should come back next week for the results.

As we left the breast screening clinic I broke down in tears. Hubby  hugged me and tried to calm me down. I looked him straight in the eye and said out loud "I've got cancer" Hubby told me off and tried explaining that we didn't know that yet, but I did. We walked the rest of the way in silence.

Once we reached the reception for the outpatients department I was instructed to leave my paperwork outside room 6 and sit in the waiting area. No sooner had we sat down, my name was called by a female doctor. We entered the room and she introduced herself as one of Mr Cunnicks team. Mr Cunnick is my consultant and surgeon. Her name was Fiona. Hubby and I took a seat at her desk and she started explaining what I had just been through at the breast screening clinic and then she said "I'm sorry, but you have cancer"

The room came in at me at 100mph and my stomach just hit the floor. I looked at hubby and he was just dumbstruck. My first words were FUCK!SHIT! FUCK!! I could feel the tears coming but I held them back just through the fear of never being able to stop them.

Fiona began taking my medical history and she also started to explain that things looked good so far. The cancer seemed to be contained in the one area and didn't appear to have spread to any lymph nodes. She explained that this was a hurdle race and that I should take this one jump at a time. It looks like my first jump is surgery to have the lump removed and this is what I must focus on for now. I have to go back on Thursday 27th September to find out when I will be having surgery and to discuss exactly what type of cancer we are dealing with. Fiona wanted me to meet Mr Cunnick so she left the room briefly to go and find him. I looked at hubby and could just see the fear and devastation all over his face. I laughed, I dont know why, and just kept repeating over andover again "I can't believe it. I can't fucking believe it"

Mr Cunnick entered the room and asked if he could just have a look at the lump. I pointed at hubby and said "yeah, he's sat right there" God I'm so HILARIOUS sometimes. Once again I removed my clothes and laid on the bed and as Mr C started examining my breast I said "I bet you feel a right tit" I actually crack myself up! He, on the other hand didn't laugh. Some people have no sense of humour.

Mr C lovingly let me know that my lump was 3 centimetres long but he would get it out of me. More positive blah blah was said and then Iwas sent on my way. Home, to tell my children that their mummy has cancer.