We started here Breast Surgery Odds on Breast Cancer and are moving forward below xxx
So after listening to my beautiful doctors apologies for not getting back to me sooner due to the holiday season and holiday interruptions, we agree that I need to go back to my specialist for further assessments. She is very concerned and devastated that I wasn’t informed earlier, well stuff happens doesn’t it. My intuition was right; don’t you love being right even if it is to the detriment to yourself?
The day of my appointment, I wake with a headache, have been clenching my jaw for a week, silly really since I have been down this path before I think the urgency in my doctors voice and the fast progress of growths does have me on edge. I really shouldn’t tell anyone, as my day is full of dreaded anticipation and fear and we know fear feeds fear, bit like a feeding frenzy, I am thinking sharks.
I always aim for the first appointment of the day as that can reduce the waiting time from a minimum of three/four hours to six odd hours depending on what patients and their issues that await them. Now that I am back here again at The Mount Hospital I have discovered that Medi Care in their wisdom are now making you wait three hours between procedures, what dick came up with that scenario? If you are having the works it will now take all bloody day. Blaaahhhh!!!!!
I dread a longer wait, as you know someone hasn’t made a lucky escape as
You spy them out the corner of your eyes, the partners holding their hands the other one gripping the arm of the chair, tears rolling down the faces. This is something I have seen many times, it stays with you then when your time comes around again you remember that moment.
|Navigating my way to the right rooms.|
Sitting in the cafe earlier checking out Instagram, seeing what I have missed overnight, here early to avoid the peak hour traffic on the freeway, another opportunity to sit in a café, have a coffee. Eavesdropping in on two chubby painters having breakfast at the next table with very heavy English accents, I hear they haven’t been in Australia for very long. They are discussing holiday plans, jealous I am, and am surprised they aren’t fretting about the heat as it’s 40 plus today.
Instead they are whining about their teenage children, debating whether to have another round of coffee to help them stay awake. It is 8am in the morning so maybe they haven’t had much sleep perhaps due to the heat. Well it’s now time to go up a few flights in the elevator entering the silent carpeted friendly consulting rooms, through the French glass doors with glorious brass handles to be met by the wonderful Tracey, we have formed a relationship over the last 16 years, her voice fills me with calming comfort.
My turn, we meet again, a breast specialist returned to the Mount after many years serving clients at Charlie Gardener Hospital, I last saw Jodie in 98′ we checked the records and reflected. So natural to talk to and has me at ease, like catching up with an old friend. We go through the motions, the medical history, paperwork completed, I then continue my travels in the lift and through the mountains of corridors which I know I will get lost in on my way to the clinic for my mammogram, the next stage in my long, long day.
|At least you get to look out onto the city from here.|
Thankfully I don’t have to repeat one test as I had that one last November, which led me to be here today. Greeted by the friendly technicians assistant, roomed, changed into an oversized gown, you know the ones with three armholes as described before. Seat taken, time again, to check Instagram, addicted right?
Next up the very lovely Mammogram lady takes me through the motions of having my breasts lifted at different angles flattened like pancakes between two firm stable pieces of Perspex, I dared to look down this time, not impressed, a little shift here a shuffle back a shuffle forward, feeling like my breast is going to be pulled from my body or at the very least stretched where it doesn’t want to go, thankful that this machine is a little kinder than the one from a few years ago, doesn’t hurt so much.
Finished at last a receipt is handed back to me, a large ($) transaction is made and back up I go through the myriad of corridors, wrong way I go again, not a very good navigator do I make, I will never get the hang of this place, it’s spread over three buildings with connecting walkways from one building to another. I so wish they had an app for your phone with directions on how to navigate this place, I take photos so I remember which way I came from. By the way I also take photos of where I park my car as I have lost my car a few times as well, go figure.
Back up to the specialist’s rooms I go, ‘Where’s the report,’ they say. Crap! Back down I go again through the lift through the myriad of corridors, nearly went the wrong way again but at the last minute out of the corner of my eye I spotted that green bucket that was catching drips from the hole in the ceiling, a quick right foot over left, half a turn and I’m back on track. Sitting waiting for the results and then back up the stairs again I will go. Surely I will have worked up an appetite by then, all this exercise I’m getting, wished I had purchased that fit bit that I’m after (step counter), wanting to get back to the daily ten thousand step target, as I write this I still haven’t purchased one, neither do I think I am back up to the ten thousand steps.
|Seriously the bucket to catch the drips, leaking ceiling.|
Not wanting to waste any time, out the phone comes, I reply to the news on Stalk Book (FB) as my brother likes to call it, while waiting yet again in what is now a very packed waiting room in the specialists office. In I go, a quick meet and greet instructions for another test remember that 3-hour wait I’ve got. Time for some lunch I’m thinking eggs Benedict, can see the soft poached runny eggs covered in hollandaise sauce on top of some thinly sliced folded salmon, sitting on top a layer of fresh spinach leaves, underneath that some lightly toasted multigrain sour dough bread (You wish). Alas no, we have an egg and lettuce sandwich admittedly wrapped in multi grain bread but encased in a cardboard packaged box, how appetizing, and how disappointing hence the lemon slice to make up for the disappointment.
|Lunch? Best I could get.|
More to follow have a great week everyone; please know that I am fine and live to continue to tell more tales for many, many years to come.