23rd September 2009
I get my results at the hospital today for lymph node removal operation. Had a sleepless night last night thinking about what the plastic surgeon said. How the outcome is not always perfect.
Mother nature is such a perfectionist no one can mimic her work. I can understand why some women get depression. Maybe it’s because I never really had breasts that I feel so disconnected. I read about how other women have responded and I come across as abnormal. My attitude to this diseases is laugh it off. The only time I reacted was when they said my nipple would go. No-one can replace a nipple. The rest is lumpy tissue encase in skin. Yes, yes it has a function, but I’ve done all the breast feeding and sleepless nights. Then I think about my nipple and that is something else’s. No more sensation!
Again I’m waiting by myself to be seen by my cancer consultant.
My breast cancer nurse comes over to speak to me asking if I’m ok. How can I be ok! There are other women here with a worse outcomes than me. I smile and say fine, but really I’m shitting my load. (Excuses my language).
I look around the room to hear two women complaining about their wigs. They have created a group in the waiting area swopping stories on treatment and stages. One starts to discuss blood counts and another mentions a drug she is trying. This whole situation is alien to me and scary. I glance up at the clock hoping my name will be called soon.
I enter the consultant’s room with baited breath I listen to her read my results.
“Well I have some really good news your nodes are clear. So we can relax and go forward with your surgery. Your negative to ostegene which means possibly no tamoxifen is needed. We will have to wait on the results of the biopsy of the breast to decide on what further treatment is needed, but it is a positive outcome so far.”
I sit there with a smile on my face, but really I just want to cry with relief. Knowing no cancerous cells had travelled was fantastic news. Yet realistically until the biopsy comes back of the whole left breast I’m still not out of the woods. The cancer had stayed localised within the breast as far as they knew.
She asked about my appointment with the plastic surgeon and what I had decided. She was happy with my decision and she checked my wound from the node removal.
Then she looked at her calendar for dates to be fixed for the surgery to be done and finalised. “I want the 6th October. Are you happy with that?”
“Yes the sooner the better.” I reply.
I leave the room with a mixture of nerves and relief. I phone Steve to tell him the news and he starts to sort bits out to cover work and Sophia. Then I ring friends and other family members so they know I’m clear.
Part of me still does not believe I’m going through this. It is like your looking through a window watching it happen. When I speak to people you feel you are discussing someone else. I wish I could turn the clock back two years and stop it from happening. They say stress can trigger cancer. Since moving to London I have been stressed out, but how was I to know.
Again I have to remind myself of the conversation me and Steve had. It does not matter when it happened or how. It is the fact that they found it and are treating it.