I had a bouquet of red roses and four biopsies done on Valentines' Day. There were concerns raised by the surgeon. My appointment to discuss results is for the 23 February, because the surgeon said it will take a week for the results. I did appreciate walking out of the hospital with an appointment, rather than getting the results from my GP surgery, where waiting time for an appointment can be two weeks. One of the four biopsies was quite painful, even after the local anaesthesia. I went back to the waiting room with a 10 cm white bandage showing above my black T-shirt line, as my lump was high on the left breast. I could see my husband's surprised and alarmed look, before I put my jumper back to hide the bandage. After a fitful night with little sleep I woke up before dawn. My curiosity took over caution. I scrubbed my hands then carefully took the bandage off. Below the 10x10 white padded bandage, there was the tiniest possible plaster, the width of a tagliatelle and about 3cm long. Looking at the tagliatelle, I stupidly worried about my booked Italian holiday. I got anxious about hair cut and hair falling, I got stressed by the ridiculous notion that my hair might regrow in patches and white (I dye my hair, I am 65) - and of course I am still waiting for my diagnosis, so why worry so much? My mind was going haywire and my stomach is churning. I wanted to say that it helped a lot to go through reading this forum, I felt I had some friends to keep me company. It is hard indeed to be faced with one's own irrational fear. Well I wrote this to show solidarity. I never thought before, that waiting could be so hard.
. Hospital took father-in-law into a side room today for tea and a chat (not good when that happens) and said there is nothing more they can do for her. They've taken her off the drip so it will probably all happen on Wednesday when my results are due and my son turns 16. Roll on Thursday!