Hi Kerry,
I don’t normally post nowadays and only check in every few weeks, but I couldn’t help but reply to your post because it reminded me of the position I was in 2 and a half years ago. I have unearthed my first post on the forum, and have copied it for you to read. You’ll see I felt just like you feel now. However, now, I feel like myself again. My little boys are now 5&7, and doing really well, I am happy and fully functioning again, I look like me, I feel like me and I act like me. It is so difficult when you are first diagnosed, but it will get a little better, bit by bit. My advice would be to be gentle on yourself and accept all the help that you can, and just take each day as it comes. Sending you gentle hugs
27/03/10
Hi everyone,
I was diagnosed with invasive ductal breast cancer earlier this month. It feels like I am living through hell and have had the sh** kicked out of me. I have cried a lot. I feel like my friends are the luckiest people on earth as they are still living the carefree life I was living up til 4 weeks ago when I found my lump. Thats the new me, jealous of my own best friends.
I found a lump in my left breast when I was examining myself on a Saturday night, and was given an appointment at the local breast clinic the following monday. I cannot fault my GP and the breast clinic staff so far.Supportive and lots of information. That day I had a mammogram, an ultra sound, a fine needle biopsy and then got the results the same day and was told “it is cancer”. My husband was with me . I had to lie down on the bed as i nearly fainted. I had to go home and tell my mum and sister. They were minding my two little boys who are just 2 and 4. Seeing my mum and sister’s faces crumple when they saw my face was awful. thank God for my husband being with me. Suddenly I totally depended on him, having whinged about him for years like we all do. I think I quite like him again now!
That night I was beyond shock. The absolute worst bit was when I went to bed. Previously I had always looked forward to bedtime, especially as sleep is at a premium with young children. But the second the light went off I started panicking and breathing too fast and had to have all the windows open. My lips and fingers went tingly and it took my husband ages to calm me down. there wasn’t much sleep to be had that night.
The next morning I was back at hospital and sobbed silently through the ultra sound guided core needle biopsy, although I was still aware enough not to move whilst sobbing in case she slipped and hurt me! The sound of the needle thing clicking was awful and I certainly couldnt watch ( though my husband did), and I hummed throughout to keep calm, so must have seemed mad. But it really didn’t hurt as the local was great.My breast was black and blue after though. The thing that really got me was that the last ultra sounds I had had were to see my little babies when I was pregnant and now it was because apparently I have breast cancer. And after a year of my persuading and convincing, my husband and I had finally been trying for a new baby and I had been expecting to have ultra sounds at this time for pregnancy again, not for this bag of rubbish. Thank god that I didn’t get pregnant though, it is hard enough wiht just my body to take into account.
I saw my breast cancer nurse again after the core needle biopsy and totally collapsed. I was convinced that this was cancer from somewhere else which had spread to my breast, so my body was already riddled. She reassured me this was extremely unlikely but who believes statistics now as we all know that someone has to fall foul of them, and as has already been proved, I am already on the sh** unlucky list…
Waiting for my biopsy results was horrific. The wait in the clinic waiting room was genuine torture. The tumour ( which is a word I really really really cannot believe applies to me) seems 15 by 11mm, and the results indicate its a grade 2, but only “vaguely” oestrogen positive ( 4 out of 8 if that means anything?).There “is no reason to believe that it has spread to the lymph nodes” but who knows? And when did lymph nodes become so important in my life? I don#t think I had ever even said the term a month ago.
So now I am waiting. I have my lumpectomy on Monday. When i first heard that I had the dreaded cancer, I told them to take the top half of my body off. At the next appointment I downscaled to a double mastectomy, then a mastectomy and finally have agreed that a lumpectomy is the way to go. I have to have a wire put in via ultrasound to mark the place before the op, and am having sentinel node biposy so need to go to the nuclear medicine department at a different hospital first. Nuclear medicine! Wow, am going to be glowing from that, with a blue breast, blue wee, blue poo and blue contact lenses from the dye! I will be like an avatar, if only they could stretch me to make me taller and skinnier too! although I did lose half a stone in a week through total inability to eat at first.
So onward and upward. I am terrified about getting worse news after the op, as i am slightly more able to cope with the status quo now than I was before. I feel that this is totally unfair, I am a good girl , never smoked, never ever taken drugs, hardly drink , not overweight, breast fed both babies for 7 or 8 months until they got top and bottom teeth they could bite with.
Have just realised how much I have written, hope I haven’t sent anyone to sleep and well done for reading this long if you have! Think I feel a bit better for telling people what has happened to me, although feel as though am preaching to to the converted, coals to newcastle etc!
xxx
