Staff decision

So here I am again.  Waiting for the oncologist on my own with a waiting room full of sick people with chemo scarves on, bags of xrays labelled 'Philippe pumouns' and people getting ill in the waiting room.  I waited just over an hour this time and my appointment was over in less than 10 minutes - she had to leave as another patient fell ill during my appointment.  She did have time to tell me that the Staff wanted me to wait 4 months for another MRI to see if the 'thing' has grown.  My oncologist said that I was 'in a hurry' to get my reconstruction so they needed to propose something else (I pointed out that even if I wasn't 'in a hurry' to get the op, I would be 'in a hurry' to find out what the fuck is in my breast that shouldn't be there).  So they said I have to get a biopsy (expected that) during an MRI (didn't expect that) as the thing is so small 3,5mm.  Apparently it was 'unanalysable'.  But the thing is, when I was first diagnosed, the cancer infiltrant (the sort that moves, the sort that you don't want to have anywhere in your body, ever), was 5mm long, so what's stopping it being the same thing again, eh?

The great thing about this fabulous biopsy, which so effortlessly combines my two least favourite tests, is that it's only available in two places in Ile de France and there's a 2 month waiting list for the test (at least).  So, they are making me wait 2 months in any case.....

Frankly, right now, I feel like giving up and not getting the test, fighting for a date, dealing with doctors receptionists, getting the products, stripping off, waiting for the results, the stress, missing work, begging my dh to come with me etc etc  I have almost had enough.  I am thinking that maybe this is just not meant to be.  Maybe I am not meant to have this operation, maybe I have to stay maimed and ugly all my life.  Maybe I will never be free of this shadow that cancer is making on my life.  Maybe that's it, I've had 2 years (not carefree by any stretch of the imagination), but two years feeling positive that it's all behind me, planning for the future, making a huge effort to put it all to one side, feeling confident, losing weight, trying to re-establish my work.  And that's all I'm going to get.  The rest is the slow slope into my death when the cancer finally does the job it tried to start.  Right now, nothing seems worth doing or trying for.  My house is a mess, I have a heavy cold, my hair is a mess, my body is a mess, I've stopped running, trying.  I hate being at home, I hate being with my children, I hate my house and I can't be bothered to tidy or clean it. (Things are so bad that dh even hoovered this morning, this is rare) I can find no pleasure in anything much and I know I'm snapping at everyone.

I don't know if anyone is reading this but if you are, sorry for being down but I just can't see the point of it all any more.