August 2015
05/08/15-Train Home: Miles of track close the gap between my Weston, seaside morning and my initiation into the professional world of breast cancer.
I write in my little silver notebook, it’s the one I have bought for capturing creative ideas, for when I start my Fine Art degree at University, in September! The first thing I write in my brand new ‘arty farty’ book is:
Wed 5th Aug
2015
Doctors appt – 5:20pm
Q: to ask?
-what could it be? Likelihood of ‘C’?
-if hospital-when will I hear?-Letter/phone call???
-what tests first?
-process-GP-letter-hosp?
-call?
-who lets me know?
I’m pretty chuffed with my smug little self.
I am prepared! I have spent the weekend acclimatising myself to hearing the words.
I am prepared!! I have a list of what to ask the doctor.
I am prepared!!! I am prepared! I’m prepared…
5:35(ish)-Doctors: I button up my cardi, sitting back down at his desk, puzzled and a little confused at my doctor’s summation of my situation which is that he can’t feel anything or really see anything much worth worrying about and I should monitor it for a month or so!
I feel a little foolish, like I’ve made a cancer mountain out of a breast molehill and yet…
“But why has it changed then? If there’s nothing there, why does it look different?” I ask.
Seeing my concern, he offers to send me to be checked out at the Breast Clinic, adding “It’s just to reassure you-it’ll put your mind at rest.” and “It’s a two-week wait clinic, okay…that’s just procedure-its not because I think you’ve got cancer.”
So I walk slowly home, with my breast clinic date and remember that I forgot to ask any of my questions!
Roobiee Rants 