For those of you keeping with the story, my right breast has some fairly large lumps in it. The lumps were very hard and localised under the scar from under the breast to nipple and the surgeon told me to massage the lumps. So I have been doing that. I've been very meticulous in putting Bio Oil on the scars and massaging every single night before I go to bed. Now the burns have subsided on the left, I'm doing the same there too.
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Anyhow, the lumpy bits in the right seem to have moved around and maybe split up and I started getting worried. My oncologist examined me and said they are scar tissue in the breast, they can't be removed because the breast will be too small if they're removed. It is basically my fault for choosing the path that I did in terms of surgery. Yes fuckin choosing, not much of that going on really was there really? Second oncologist thought they were scar tissue but would I like an ultrasound to be sure? Yes I would. Dr Pink gyne said get them looked at in an intense sort of way.
Which is why I found myself outside the same Centre Imagerie that I visited that fateful day back in August. Lying on exactly the same couch in exactly the same position on the same machine wondering about my 'healthy' breast. It was very very hard not to cry with the worry and the dreadful memories that came back.
I waited for an hour for the results in a dim cafe full of old men, to keep out of the icy rain, stirring my crème round and round again. It seems that the ultrasound showed what was probably scar tissue but the operator reccomends a mammograph sooner rather than later to get a 'control' picture that can be followed if the lumps evolve into anything else. So, essentially good news.
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Already I was enjoying a very heavy period that came out of nowhere and very close to the one I just had, when normally they are about every 3 months now. So, I guess this is a gift from Tamoxifen. I thought the periods would stop with the menopause but no, see, you can get the best of both worlds - the change and still have your periods extra heavy with this fantastic drug. Well, thanks for nothing. Yes yes I know, they are stopping the hormones so theoretically stopping tumours developing, maybe.
Later that day I ended up in tears at what should have been a nice lunch with two friends so that was a bit crap especially as I had to teach immediately afterwards.
Couple of days later I went to see the doctor to get him to sign the prescription for my bra jelly that I didn't think I'd ever need and that I'm totally ashamed of and mortified that it's there and necessary. I just makes me sad every time I take it off, it's like taking part of my breast off, reminding me what's missing or strapping on my tumour again. It's just weird weird weird. dh had a feel of it and he thought it was slightly amusing. It is and that's what so horribly embarassing about it. I wear it as little as possible.
So doctor sits me down and asks me how I am. Well, the tears came flooding out, as they had been all week at the drop of a hat. It was nice that he took the time to talk, I appreciated it. He thinks I am depressed. I think he's right. He wanted me to take anti-depressants. I politely declined. I just don't want to put yet another unnatural thing in my body. Too much already. And in any case, if the sadness needs to come out, well it does doesn't it? As far as I can see I am (just) holding down a little part time work. I do break down frequently at home for no reason whatsoever so that's not great and I am a bit shoutey at the children and I don't much like to go outside of the house unless necessary. But as far as I can see anti depressants just mask the problem; they don't address it. So i'm in the film Carry on Crying for the moment.
I saw the Listening Brunette on Thursday who was lovely in fact and sort of gave me permission to feel like shit. She was not surprised at my depressive state, as everything had happened so quickly - the surgery, radiotherapy and now hormontherapy - that she almost expected a real low to come now when I'd had a chance to think.
I had an atelier Belle et Bien scheduled at the hospital on Friday but as the transport was so bad I was 20mins late. I phoned them to tell them and they said don't bother coming. Well, that was a blow too, I'd been really looking forward to it. So, cue more tears.
There were some little peaks of happiness this weekend. It was Théo's 11th Birthday and his 10 friends were coming round to go bowling then for pizzas. As I left the house I said to dh 'I have absolutely no inclination to do this party at all. I would rather go to bed' and then when all the parents came to pick up their kids, they stayed for champagne and our house was full of fighting kids and noisy parents, I found it incredibly stressful and overwhelming. My Mum called so I sat on the stairs saying 'make them go away Mum'. I was absolutely shattered. Yes that's another thing, I've been really tired since the radiotherapy stopped. People say this can go on for years, well I jolly well hope not. Enough already! So that was not a peak of happiness, here it is-
What was good was going to MT's Birthday party. An excuse to dress up (ahem, this is not a really easy thing to do yet) and to get made up - I'm good for that. I chose my outfit carefully keeping a cardigan for cover up if I felt too self conscious. Most of my friends there knew about the cancer and I only got one person giving me the up and down focusing on the tits that are no longer. I danced. I didn't know it was ok to dance, I wondered if the jelly would move or fall out. It didn't but it wasn't break dancing or anything! And I found myself meeting new people and ended up under the influence of margaritas in the car park being photographed with Ms Aniston with cowboy hats on, smiling. It was a good night.
So hopefully that week was a little blip. Life goes on until the next appointment.
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