2013 Way back last year when I went through this last time, my visit in the specialist’s rooms went like this.
So I looked at her and she looked at me and she said
‘The growths are on the wall of your chest and it’s too dangerous to take biopsies as we can collapse your lungs’.
‘Great’ say I, ‘so you aren’t able to tell me if they are cancerous or not’. ‘No we can’t’.
We eyeballed each other, continuing monitoring every 6 months, I politely said my goodbyes and left. One week later she rang back, as there was a chap visiting from the East who had agreed to do the biopsies. That poor man had to practically sit on me to get the needle through all the muscle and tissue, he kept asking me if I was alright, love him, well another lucky escape had I, all was good.
This time a sense of urgency the lovely Jodie rang and said,
‘Look I really think these new growths need to be biopsied as they are larger than the others and are in a position that need some immediate attention.’
‘Not a problem’, said I having been here before. It’s now 12.40pm I have been here since 7.45am.
Again and with the same assistant who remembered me from the week before, clearly we need some sort of loyalty card then I could get a bulk discount right.
I have travelled those corridors so far 4 times today and still managed to go the wrong way duh! Looking out for that green bucket, my marker, cursing again wishing there was an app. My phone would be weighted down with apps I think, that is if I could figure out how to download them.
Lay on the bed please take your arm out of the gown, she says in her gentle tones, the cover is discreetly placed over the breast once we have all agreed to which one they were going to shove a bloody great big needle into not once but thrice.
The soothing voice of the nurse, eyebrows rise as I reminded her of my Von Willebrand blood disorder, it’s like they take two steps back and inhale. Really people it’s not my fault it’s hereditary.
More introductions, a South African doctor with a calming smooth accent, love these people so respectful. The gel is applied the apologies for the pain about to be inflicted, ouch. The stick thing glides over the gel on my breast, scan photos are taken, measured, checked, marking the spots.
The application of antiseptic, the numbing needle is inserted I wince, hold my breath, screw my face up, tense my body my toes curl up, the click clack not once but thrice as he seeks out and extracts two samples of the intruders in my right breast, then one from the left. The bile rises in my throat; I focus on breathing in out in out repeating to myself stay calm relax stay calm relax.
Knowing darn well that I will get a migraine maybe not today but in a couple of days when I will have placed this experience to the back of my mind, my hormones won’t let me forget. He checks every now and again that I am still okay bless him. The nurse presses a swab against my wound to quell the bleeding, I feel sick, such a baby it’s not like I haven’t been here before. I listen carefully to the after care instructions, which I know is going in one ear and out the other.
For one I have a short attention span and usually throw instructions directly in the bin. Like the form from the blood doctor to have more blood tests after the operation, (explanation to follow) didn’t think I would need it and then when my doctor saw a report that I was to have them, I nodded silently not knowing how to tell her that well actually, I binned it.
That’s okay when I see her again I’ll tell her I lost it.
They handed me two panadol, like that was going to help, Mersondol is so much better at numbing any pain I’m going to get. I so nearly said no to the panadol as I knew that wasn’t going to cut it and that I had a drawer full of stronger stuff at home. But thought better of it as you know the last time I said something like that they had me on suicide watch thanks to nurse no fun, which was only doing her job.
Clearly not getting my sense of humour, I change, hand over yet more money that’s the third time in a matter of six hours a total of about $700. Legs wobbly I hang onto the bannister for dear life as I go down the stairs. Thinking, just make it to the car without either collapsing or throwing up, you are made of sterner stuff besides it wouldn’t be a very dignified or pretty exit would it, and I have standards however bizarre they may seem.
Getting into the car, take a deep breath and insert the ice packs they gave me into my bra to somehow reduce the bruising, which by the way didn’t help the bruising that is. Made no difference, bruises were large and very black which wasn’t good for me and I’ll tell you why later as this led to two reception rooms get into a tit for tat bun fight, that’s all right though as I took issues into my own hands and sorted out another specialist appointment by myself with the help of my doctor, more on that matter to follow.
Now home James home, I take the long route back home, past the river as a reward for making it through yet another day. No exercise allowed for three days, bugger one-step forward two back, pass me the chocolate.
So here I am working down south three days later and I get a call from Dr Jodie, asking me if I am home or if anyone is with me, ‘No’, I am working away but please go ahead’. She asks me to please come back and see a surgeon, as those four cysts need further investigation and possible removal.
Oh has life finally caught up with me is it my turn?
‘We just need to be sure, as they are not in a place where we can leave them, looks okay but no promises we need to be sure’, she says.
So back I go you know where to, for an appointment with a surgeon, easy good to go right, wrong……..