cancer blog day 1 – found out about the operation

i have whats called invasive duct

erm..invasive ..hang on…i had to write it down. i can’t find it. its invasive ductal carcinomagrade 1, oestrogen positive. that means oestrogen does feed it so – blocking eostrogen for 5 years is standard after care. so is radiotherapy and so is awhole bunch of other things i don’t want and may decide not to have.

i’m thinking about taking a radical approach to my cancer. I’m not the first and well i could be the last. I can’t find many decent testimonies about this approach and here’s why you mustn’t take one testimony as gospel. each cancer is different and each person is…each treatment and op is, each organic orange is and so on. you could go by a large portion of testimonies that have exactly the same scenario – but that is impossible to find. i think.  This is all stuff i’ve discovered in the last few weeks since i accidentally found a lump on my breast. it had been two days since my shit ex dumped me again and i was feeling positive. i had just started a sewing group, just decided to stop feeling so ugly and had been on a health diet for thyroid hashimotos and the results were amazing. i stretched my arm up…i like to feel the weight of my arm over my body when lying in bed sometimes.   well…i felt like putting my thumb into my armpit…in a strange postion…one that i can’t beleive i was lucky enough to try out. i  brushed across the rib cage armpit area and felt a hard lump. frowned…tried to find it…nothing there. repeated the same brushing over and found it again. was about to panick but then remembered i’d just been dumped and forgot all about it.

next day…. i thought i should double check that was my imagination or a silly dream.

it wasn’t.

so here we are…moving on now.

4th visit to the doc in the cancer ward.  you only have to be there for 1 minute to realise there’s a wholleee biggg womany feeling going on in that waiting room. you sit there and your mind just wonders about what the fuck is going on for all these women. and what the fuck the fuck the fuck are you doing there as well.
Mr doc successfully explained to me i had to have a lumpectomy…masectomy was too drastic… i just gave in..i don’t know what i’m going on about. i’ll just have to trust someone. ‘how do you know you can trust him’? ‘ you don’t.’

he shakes his head as i say no to radio therapy…and shakes it to me saying no to tamoxifen….both standard and seriously successful ways of treating criminal cells in your boob. but…both fucking dreadful things to go through and the Mr internet doesn’t have a good word to say about radio therapy.  so i need to study more.
between the shock, the appointments, the crying…the fear (seriously read my previous posts) the groups and so on and so on…the word is. overwhelming.

anyway back to boob cancer progression.

i’m back home…and been on my bed all day trying to bury my head into tv programs. i have to work through all this. i can’t tell anyone (i’ll explain later) and the train is coming.
(behind me, about to run me over – in my head…all the time…coming) so yeah alright i fucking laid on the bed all day trying to rest. eat. try to stop thinking. spoke to another boob cancer girl i found on the boob cancer website they tell you to go to.

she is in a similar position…same kind of boob crime….same op…biggerlump. mine is 6mm. anyway she has a family and that’s been another worry for her. support but at the same time another worry.

the reactions of people seems to be 3 things

1.)er……..(blankface)

2,) oh babe….you’ll be ok.

3.) OH MY FUCKING GOD NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1NO NO NO ARGH SHIT ARE YOU DOING THIS THAT HAVE YOU..WHY DID YOU? I MEAN ..

and so on.

so i have just about avoided the responses…i detected a lot of 1. coming so stopped….i saw number 2 coming and will cease hinting what is happening. and i’m not telling anyone that is going to give me 3. i’m very very alone. very scared. but in my own hell that can not be made worse.

thanks mr X for being there when i found the lump…and then never calling again to ask if i was ok. i still can’t get past that. we wont be friends after all that work at being friends.

 

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