btw don't think I'm doing this so I can get a book deal or a film where Julia Roberts triumphs through adversity baring her teeth, tossing her hair at everyone. I'm sure there are many more heartrending and inspiring blogs about this subject. There is no vanity in this blog, just expression, news and honesty. One day maybe someone will be going through the same thing and if they can get an idea of what I've been through and what it feels like and that their feelings might be the same as mine, then it might make them feel better and make their life a bit less stressful.
So Monday comes and the echographie. Did I mention that I hadn't told my husband about the lump until after the mammo on Friday when I screamed it out to him in the street after the appointment? yep, classy communicator me.
It took ages, it was painful. You know when there's a problem when the operator starts clicking and measuring things on the screen and going over and over again on the same spot. Tears were trickling down my face by this time. I asked what was going on which was difficult in my position, face pushed onto the vinyl bench arm over head (god did I shave my armpits?) The operator gave me a whole load of medical speak and I said no, in ordinary terms what do you see? A mass in the milk ducts but she didn't think it was dangerous, just benign because it didn't have any pointy bits coming out reaching to eat up the healthy cells was what she said.
Oh how these words got me through the 14 day wait for the results, hoping that this young woman was correct and that her diagnosis was just as good as anyone elses. But no my friends, the medical profession lies! It was not the case at all. She reccomended a biopsy (what?) just to be sure, nothing will be found, just a precaution. Another lie my friends. My left breast was officially classed as a 4 (something there, needs looking into but probably ok).
I needed to get a letter from my dr to get a biopsy.
Broke down in tears in the waiting room, called husband who came immediately to drive me home.
Spent half an hour ringing round doctors, my dr one of those on holiday. I wanted this bipsy ASAP and I didn't want to wait for a dr appointment. But again, doctors must be earning a crust too, opposed to the 50% of Frenchies stuck at home, the majority of them were also sunning themselves in Marbella or whereever drs go to chill.
Eventually I reached a dr who was pretty cool and said come now. We did. Luckily mil was here to look after the kids so we didn't have to drag them round with us.
So, dr rings around for a biopsy appointment - mistakenly saying 'I'd like a cancer biopsy please', after trying so hard in our conversation not to mention the C word. Eventually tells me to go to the hospital in a nearby town to get an appointment. Biopsies are done on Wednesdays. My hopes were high for a Wednesday appointment.
Go home, cry in the bedroom not in front of the kids and mil. Tell mil at night when the kids are in bed. She's never a ray of light and true to form managed to put a negative spin on it. This is where I needed my Mum or my sisters here.
I feel like I'm now on the edge of precipice and about to jump down into freefall, losing control of my destiny and choices and life.
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