3. Results Are In
I thought a lot about the possible outcome over the next 24 hours. Would it be cancer? It most certainly could be. And why not – after all, Penny Johnston told me 1 in 9 women are diagnosed each year. That is 12,000 women. Was I so special that I would escape? I had a feeling it could quite easily be cancer. Yet I wasn’t anxious, or worried. I slept well that night and woke only slightly nervous. As we went to the clinic on Thursday my mood lifted and I felt it would probably be ok. It was very quiet in the clinic, only one or two staff ghosting around and no other clients. It should have struck me as an omen, but it didn’t. It was just very peaceful. We only waited about five minutes and then the breast care nurse took us down through a waiting room and into an office.
We met the surgeon and the nurse sat in too. He didn’t beat around the bush and told us straight out that my results showed I had early breast cancer. He didn’t apologize, or stumble around. I guess he did this regularly, so was probably very experienced at it. As the news sunk in, I got sniffily and my eyes welled up. But I was calm and being very grown up, almost like I got this news every day and took it in my stride. The nurse got up and discreetly produced a box of tissues, which she held out to us to wipe our sniffily noses.
The surgeon explained very carefully and in detail what the next steps would be. He made numbered bullet points on a page that had a line drawing of two breasts, and drew incisions on them. I heard him, but I don’t think it all sank in. Words like wide local excision and sentinel nodes and hormones and radiotherapy and finally, down at point 5, chemotherapy. I didn’t like that much and was glad to see it was the last option they thought would be required. My tumour was Grade 1-2, not a 3, that is the worst kind you would want, growing too fast and requiring surgery urgently. We mentioned we had a holiday planned in a couple of weeks and he gave us his blessing to go for the week; ‘as long as you don’t spend the time worrying about this,’ he admonished. We assured him a week at Noosa would be just the tonic we needed.
We were able to ask any questions we could think of, and had all the time we needed to absorb this information. They contacted our doctor and made an appointment for us to see her that same evening. This was all moving very fast.
When we left, we went to our car and leant against the bonnet in each other’s arms. We cried as the initial shock set in. We hugged and we sniffed and told each other how sorry we were. I felt so loved and cared for and supported, wrapped in the comforting arms of my husband. I also felt like I should apologise. It seems silly now, but it was something else we had to deal with. Staff left the clinic, but we seemed to be in a cocoon by ourselves, slightly detached from the rest of the world.