I go to work in the morning. Just me and A in the office. I break down and tell him. He is lovely. Meet dh (he really deserves the 'd' in dh by this time, if not before) after much faffing about on the metro and RER (the one day the RER shuts down between Auber and Nation thank you very much).
Am seen very quickly. At this point, can I also give thanks to the inventors of Candy Crush? I have emptied my thoughts and stilled my soul with endless, mindless games of CC. Level 110 where I am now is too hard so I've given up on in but enjoy going back to the lower levels trying to get 3 stars on each level. Only fellow CCers will relate to this.
Manage to tear myself away from my addiction to popping sweets to get my kit off yet again and go in for the biopsy. Highlight of my week. Have read my information sheet given yesterday very thoroughly It was really useful. Also the trusty ipad has given me much information about this special test.
Oh no it's the brusque nurse again! She has the temerity to mock me whilst I'm lying one tit through a hole in the bed. 'Oh doctor, Madame doesn't find the position very comfortable'. No she fucking doesn't. Table raised, doctor gets underneath like a car mechanic and gets to work pricking the hell out of my breast with an local anasthetic. Lots of owwwss coming from my side of the table and after, nothing, no feeling, just horror at what's happening unseen and the sucking noise coming from the machine. Lots of 'breathe, don't breathe, breathe, don't breathe' from brusque bitch as xrays are taken and who manages to break machine it seems. Doctor not happy with samples so he comes and goes to make sure he's got all the calcifications. Lots of samples are taken. Then brusque woman really breaks machine.
Real doctor is quite, well, tender with me and puts his hand on my back to reassure me from time to time. They don't want to hurt you and it occured to me that it's no fun for them doing this, so they have my sympathy (but not BB).
So, now it's a second biopsy with an ultrasound. Bloody hell. Large plastic plasters are slapped on my breast which, from this moment on, I now consider as a piece of bad meat that smells. It will never be anything else but that again for me. Finished as a sex object. I do not want anyone else to ever touch it again with lust in their eyes. I can now barely touch it myself. I can barely bring myself to put a bra on and my back is well turned when put my nightdress on.
Slightly get revenge on brusque woman asking her to clean my back as it's brown where the antiseptic has run down. She scrubs hard so it's 2-1 to her. Damm
Y'know the biopsy in itself wasn't that bad, really. it was lacking dignity and unpleasant but all in all I saw nothing (there was a curtain over my breast during the echo part of the biopsy and in the magic machine, everything is underneath like the underside of a car. So if you ever go through this and you are very frightened, as I was, by the idea, well please know that for me it was not as bad as I thought. And I am a BIG BABY!
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