4th March 2010
I received a call from the breast care nurse at 8.40am this morning. They agree finally that I need a MRI scan as a precautionary measure.
Part of me realises if I did not have my blood results in front of me from August 2009. My situation would clearly be brushed under the carpet. I am determined to get to the bottom of why my right breast is still causing me problems. It is like a tick list of tests that should be done, but the NHS don’t want them done because of time/cost.
The fact my father had died of a benign brain tumour and my daughter was having a MRI may of spurred them into action.
So out of curiosity I have requested my fathers’ medical results for his tumour. Not only that, but it would mean I did not have to explain if they did find something. It is better to be prepared and have things official rather than talk. You can just hand it over and say “Ok is there any link to this?”
What worries me is that there are many people out there who do not get treated. They slip through the paperwork of budgets and not fight on. I can understand their frustrations because I did the same thing. My experience of feeling like you’re a hypochondriac within a none sympathetic system is upsetting. Yet I am a strong person who knows when she is right. If my tests are negative then I can move on.
If it is normal for me to be lactating then fine, but it has been noted that it is not.
I also went to my GP appointment to settle a few skeletons. I told him I had finally got a MRI scan to check my piturity gland.
“Why did you not have one done in August?” Alarm written on his face. “Didn’t they read my letter or see the blood results?”
All I can do is look at him and shrug. He searches the files on his computer checking the letter that was sent and test results. Then checking the reply and its findings.
“You are one lucky lady” he replied. “How did they find the breast cancer?”
“They sent a letter for a mammogram.” I replied.
“But no MRI?” he looks at me scratching his forehead. “There error may of saved your life. If you had gone for the MRI on your piturity gland they would not of detected the breast cancer. How did you get the MRI?”
I explained the week’s events in detail and how I pulled rank and got the results printed off.
“So you have not had the MRI yet?” he asked.
“No I am waiting for it to arrive in the post.”
“Someone is looking out for you.” He leans back in his chair shaking his head.
Then he started to go into detail what might have happened if there is a tumour and I did not have the MRI.
“How long could it of been there?” I look at him concerned.
“Years undetected.” The GP replied. “Then he continued to reassure me if I did have a tumour it would only be small because my sight is not affected.”
But I question his opinion on that too because my fathers’ sight was fine until one day one eye played up. The following week he had a scan and that is when they saw the tumours. There was no warning or gradual decline in his sight.
The more I look into things the more it leaves me confused. Once the MRI is done I can feel settled that there is nothing to worry about..
When Steve arrived home I went to tell him what happened.
“Give me two minutes Sarah I have just come home to sit down.”
I frown at him and walk away to sit in the bedroom. I’m angry at him for saying what he said. How dare he tell me to wait this bloody tumour is not waiting nor was the breast cancer. Why do I feel so isolated? I go to wash the pots to see him laughing on the phone. Chatting like there is no problem at all to discuss. I pace up and down listening to his laughter. How dare he laugh, what is there to laugh about? My stomach is turning I feel like throwing all the dishes out in the yard and screaming at the top of my voice. Then I open the door to the computer room shaking my head at him.
“What’s up Sarah?” he asks.
I walk away back to the kitchen sink.
“Nothing is wrong!” I shout. “Nothing is ever wrong! You live your life without a care in the world and I have breast cancer! You tell me to shut up! I have a tumour in my head. Maybe! What could ever be wrong?” I reel out. “My life not yours you might not have a wife next year don’t you worry your little head? After all it is not you getting cut up and prodded and poked! No it’s just little old Sarah!” I slam the pots into the sink as I vent my anger.
“What is wrong with you?” He ends his call and walks up to the sink looking at me.
“What is wrong?” I shout. “You should seriously think about that question and analyse it well because if you can’t answer it then there is something seriously wrong!”
I storm into the bedroom in tears not knowing what else to say and Steve follows behind me.
“I was waiting for you to come talk to me. I thought you would do it in your time when you’re ready.” He explains.
“I did try you shot me down and said you needed two minutes. Besides what happened to you coming to me? Why do I have to go to you when you clearly were not interested earlier!”
“I said give me two minutes.” He replies in his calm annoying voice.
“I did but what your sister had to say was more interesting.” I turn away in tears.
“Don’t blame me like I am in the wrong.” He replies.
“You honestly do not understand I am at breaking point here and I don’t know how much more I can take. The breast cancer was one thing, but a tumour as well. How would you react?” I look at him searching for a reassuring responses.
“I don’t know I can’t answer that.” He replied
“I know for a fact I would not act like you just did!” I reply still raising my voice. “I would have given it two minutes and followed you to where ever you were and asked. Why is that so hard to do? Do I have to explain everything and approach you all the time? You say I nag you, well to me you set it up so that I nag or moan. How else am I suppose to get a response from you. I am suppose to be stress free and yet I feel like I am ready to explode!”
“Sarah do not say I am wrong because I know I am right. All you had to do was come to me and say can you talk now? What you have just done is wrong and a overreaction to something you have not got answers to yet. Have you had the MRI?” he asks turning the conversation around.
“No, but does that really matter? ” I look at him shaking my head.
“But you have no results yet. The GP does not know and neither do you it is guess work.” He replies still no cuddle or positive movement in his reply. Instead he towers over me and dominates the whole conversation.
Yes I understand what he is saying, but it is the way he told me to be quiet and the phone call. I have nothing to go with except hearsay, but if I had not persisted in having an MRI who knows what could have happened.
But I am not arguing my prognoses it is his whole behaviour around me. The love note, the late nights away from home and the fact I cannot reach him on his mobile when needed. All of this is eating away at me and he reacts like I am a solid brick with no emotional needs throughout the conversation just words.
“Sarah you are riding the wave and you have done well, but you are going to come through this. Don’t be negative now you need to remain positive trust me. Your vigilance as caught all of this in time no doctor.” I turn away from him as he remains towering over me.
Why me? I did not deserve this!