19th October 2010
I dropped Sophia off at school as normal. My head is in a different place. Sophia’s birthday is just three weeks away. Then there is Christmas a few weeks after. If this breast is kicking off then I need to be organized. Steve does not think more than six hours ahead at any one time. I cannot rely on him at all. If I could my days would be less stressful, but he has arranged to sort Sophia out and pick me up from hospital once I have finished.
I wander around Sainbury’s looking at the Christmas displays. I search for bargains amongst the stuff that I can see. Forever the Yorkshire lass trying to save the odd pound here and there. Steve buys what he sees and does not way up the prices. I like to get more for my pound not just what I see.
I glance at my watch calculating how long it will take me to get home with the shopping. It is 10.00am and the time seems to be dragging not that I’m wishing it away. I reach home at 11am and I climb into bed. If I sleep maybe it will go away. Maybe I’ll wake-up and it is no more than a bad dream. I’m a tough old bird, but I’m tired.
I arrive at the hospital appointment early and take a seat in the waiting area. The procedure I’m having done is a Prone Stereo Mammo + Vac Assist Biopsy. To say I am nervous is an understatement. Once you have had one biopsy you know what you may be facing with the next one. The nursing staff check my blood pressure. Then I’m taken to a small room to change into a rather attractive hospital gown. The nurse locks one door and on the opposite side opens another door that leads into the x-ray room. Five minutes later she says I can enter the x-ray room. To my right is what looks like a bed with a dinner sized plate hole in the centre. Beneath is what looks like a mammogram machine turned on its back. The plates are positioned beneath the hole ready and waiting to clamp my breast into place.
The whole procedure is slowly explained to me in detail. First they take the usual two images from the normal mammogram machine. Then I’m to lay on the bed whilst they position my breast through the hole into the plates. The plates then compress the breast and they take more images. From that position the radiologist gives me a local anesthetic into my breast. Ready for them to take samples. They leave a marker in the breast so my oncologist can go back to the same area.
This all seems straight forward, but believe me it was not. The pain I felt even after having double the local anesthetic left me shaking on the bed. The staff were brilliant we were chatting throughout the biopsy, but I would not want to go through it again. My breast has had enough and is throbbing like hell. When they were explaining the biopsy to me they said it was from the top half of my chest. A totally different area to where I am feeling the pain or even swelling. This has left me confused, but at least they got the samples of calcification they needed. They repeated the normal mammogram to make sure the tag was in place. Then I’m sent to the recovery room to have my blood pressure checked again so I can be released. I am given the usual piece of paper to read on how and what I should look for. If any doubts call the hospital and I even got a chocolate as a reward for being a good patient.
Steve picked me up from outside the hospital. I told him in a brief fashion what happened. He said I’m sorry. Sorry is not what I want to hear right now. I just want all the appointments and prodding to stop. I’m tired and my poor breast is rebelling and making it known. I mentioned to Steve that now all I want is my other breast removed. I don’t want any more samples taken. I just want my life back to how it was. But I know that can never happen, not now, not ever...
A rotten night’s sleep and the pain has kicked in. Steve has gone to work as usual and I’m left with taking Sophia to school and a sink full of pots. I‘m slowly beginning to hate this house and the memories it holds. My life was suppose to change for the better. I’m gradually shutting down and I can’t control how I feel inside no more. I have nothing to look forward to just the same routines. I’ve yet to find out what my position is in the young people’s theatre which is impacting on how I feel. Trying to gain some sort of organisation in my life is impossible. The day to day tasks I have to do I cannot face. I’m becoming a robot with a smile on the outside, but conflicting data on the inside. Maybe I’ll feel better once I have had a sleep.
Ealing Gazette have done an interview with me via the phone and are sending a photographer round. They found the idea of a calendar and the fact I have had a mastectomy interesting. Questioning how I felt initially after being told I had the early stages of breast cancer. All I kept repeating was you feel automated by your responses. It is like your hovering above your body and looking down whilst everything is explained to you. She must of found me a bit peculiar with my responses, but I spoke more of Sharon and her efforts to promote the calendar. So I dart over my replies and try to keep it upbeat. Sharon on the other hand has to sell 2000 calendars which may not seem much, but that is the agreed amount to be printed.
This past week has been very interesting to say the least. First of all I go to my local supermarket to see my calendar picture on the front page of the Ealing Gazette. Not only that but they did a half a page spread on page three. Which is excellent coverage for the calendar. It was funny watching someone read my story on the tube and I was sat across from them. They did not even realise it was me they were reading about.
Sharon also informed me that my picture is appearing in the office of the lingerie company Anita. I find this very funny because I’ve never had this sort of attention before. Personally I’m just pleased that the calendars are selling. At the end of the day we are a group of women who have come together to raise cash for three charities.
When Sharon went to Westminster she asked a consultant from Breast cancer research why my treatment was different to most with a HER2 triple positive result. She said she was worried about my treatment especially since calcification had now developed in the opposite breast. Apparently it was explained to her a lot is involved in assessing a patients requirements. The consultants do not just focus on the HER2 result with treatment. Sharon said she felt a lot better because it was explained in depth to her, but she asked if I was scared. My reply was yes and no.
If the cancer is trying to come back then it is being closely monitored. To me fear is a natural emotion because you’re heading into the unknown, but when you know what you are facing it is a different sort of fear. I recently read an article from a well known actor and writer. His wife also a writer and actress was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. He summed it up our treatment is for five years, not one year.
This is very true and people are still under the illusion that the treatment we receive is a cure. For me it is not every test or every appointment I dread. It is the result and facing the repeat of the treatment, but that is the same for all theses BC ladies I chat to. We sit by the letter box hoping to read the words all clear. Or carry our mobile phones with the hope an unknown number that is phoning you does not say CANCER is back.
Steve has been doing his own research which could explain a change in his behaviour recently. He now kisses me on my head as he leaves for work. Still no effort in helping doing the pots though or other menial chores around the house, but beggars can’t be choosers. He likes to cook me meals when I am not in the mood. So that is better than a fat zero.
Apparently, not that I did not already know mammograms can cause cancer. My reply was yes I know, and how many pictures have been taken of my wonderful breast. Of course he does not know only I do, but plenty were taken. He actually went into great detail with facts and figures, but do I need this info right the minute. He means well and it is nice he is showing concern for my well being. Yet a mammogram is the only way for now that any changes can be detected. The facts are the dosage of radiation are low.
I received a phone call from Ealing Gazette. Evening Standard want to do a follow up of the calendar story. This is excellent for the calendar and Sharon’s charity, but I have left it to Sharon to decide how it should be handled. Slowly but surely there is a light at the end of this very dark tunnel and for the better I hope.
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