We have to take your breast on Wednesday…

So Sept 27th eventually came. The wait this time wasn’t as bad in the waiting room but they brought a good few of us downstairs together so myself and himself ended up sitting on the stairs, not the best place to leave somebody sitting while waiting to find out if they’ve cancer, welcome to the health system in Ireland. My Breast Cancer Nurse came down the stairs and gave me a chirpy “hi Lorraine”, everybody looked at me with the look “aha she’s been here before”. To be honest it struck me that she remembered me so well and on a first name basis,  fxck it anyway I knew there was trouble ahead. We got called in eventually and the consultant came straight to it

“Lorraine we have lots to talk about today”

My stomach actually sunk to the ground, I felt sick. I had hoped he was going to tell me everything was ok, it’s just pre-cancer, we’ll take out the lump and bobs your uncle but I knew it was more. He started off, you came in with pain in your right breast bla bla bla bla(read previous blogposts) your node biopsy came back clear so nothing has travelled( breathes a sigh of relief) but this lump has grown from 2cm to 4cm in a very short time so we’re going to have to take your breast and I’d like to do it next Weds, it was Fri. To say I was shocked was an understatement, I hadn’t really expected it to come to this. The worst part of the whole thing was then he went onto say that I wouldn’t be able to have reconstruction for 18 months because they had to do the pathology test on the tissue to see what they were dealing with because he felt there could be more going on in there than pre-cancer and they needed to see what further treatment I would need and radiotherapy etc can’t be done on a reconstructed boob so I had no choice. I think the fact that I was going to wake up with no boob was a bigger shocker than the mastectomy. He told me I would only have to stay in 1 night and then I would be sent home the next day. He then asked me did I want to see what he was going to do and got out his little blue marker and did a little diagram on my traitor boob to show me what he was going to cut away, cheers for that. Looking back I don’t think there was a need for this, I know it’s the reality of it but it’s a bit cruel. There was no empathy in that room except from my BC nurse in the corner. He was very matter of fact, he even told me “this isn’t going to kill you,you know and you’re very lucky”, ok…em cheers for that. I’m still a 38 year old women that’s going to wake up one boob less and was still none the wiser what lay ahead of me in terms of chemo and radiotherapy, I was going to have to wait another 2-3 weeks after the op for the results…

He asked me did I consent to him doing the surgery on Weds as he’d like to get it out sooner than later and sure of course I did, I wanted the fecker out that might try to kill me. My BC nurse brought us to a little room down the hall with tea and coffee, the finding out you’ve cancer room if you will, she was so lovely. I was actually ok, I was kind of glad things were being done now and there was no more waiting and hanging around so there was no tears. I made a few jokes, she looked at me like I was mental and asked me was I really ok? I told her I genuinely was, I tried to explain to her in the grand scheme of things this wasn’t the worst news ever, if he had told me I was going to die that would be the worst news ever so for me I’d get through this. I told her I had a fabulous life and I wanted to continue living that and let’s get on with it and do this. I should probably explain what kind of person I am, I live my life, I don’t complain, I don’t moan, I don’t sweat the small things, if something is wrong I fix it, I’m a bit of a control freak to be honest too..

I’m the one who at 13 after just starting my first job I told my boss after 3 weeks I was going to a shop up the road because he was only paying me 75p an hour and the other crowd would pay me £1 an hour(he told me I would go far in life and it was the first time anybody had quit)

I’m the one who worked from age 13 every weekend and full time every summer through school to help my family…

I’m the one who paid herself through college and worked 2 jobs at one stage and 3 while saving for Australia, I’m the one who dragged himself off to Australia when he was only 18 before anyone else was going and his mother didn’t sleep for a year..

I’m the one who quit a permanent job in the bank after 6 months for a high-flying sales job back when nobody quit a permanent job in the bank..

I’m the one who lied to get the sales job and said I could drive and then had to take 20 lessons and actually pass my test in 6 weeks and then pick up a brand new Golf in Tipperary and drive it back to Limerick behind my new boss when I had never stepped into another car besides the instructors car…(I have never been so shxtless in my life)

I’m the one who bought a house in my early 20’s…

I’m the one who quit the very well paid high flying sales job to open my own business at 27(I looked 18) and everybody used to ask me for the owner..

I’m also the one who never franchised out La Cucina even when I knew I could and could have become very rich because I knew I wouldn’t be able to drop my kids to school and tuck them into bed every night and live my life the way I wanted…

I’m the one where living life is more important than money and wants to continue living it for a very long time…

(disclaimer – I do still like money tho;))

So you kind of get how I think, if something is wrong I take control and fix it so yes I was in a shxt situation but hey it could still be worse. She showed me the prosthesis bra I would have to wear and how they had come a long way and there was now bikinis and swimsuits etc, it all seemed a bit surreal to be honest. She explained how the operation would go and how they were going to inject some blue dye into my nipple beforehand to find the sentinel node under the arm which still had to be checked even though the biopsy was clear. I asked her would there be an anaesthetic and she said no, WHAT??? I was more worried about this then than anything, I then went onto ask her where would I be after the op, I had to deal with waking up with no boob so I presumed I’d have a private room or at least be in a room with other women in a similar situation and she looked sadly at me and said wherever there is a bed but at least I had the comfort of knowing that the op wouldn’t be cancelled because it was for cancer and they never are. Ammm ok but NO that’s so wrong on every level. What the hell had I paid VHI for since I was 18 and even if I hadn’t, it’s barbaric that any woman is just lumped into whatever bed is available. She arranged for me to come in for my pre-ops on Mon morning at 11 and if I needed to talk to her at anytime to give her a ring. She was so fabulous, I suppose they have to be because the consultants are very distant and cold so it’s their job to pick you up off the floor and make everything better…

We left the hospital in a strange kind of happy but shocked mood, the waiting had come to an end. I rang my mother and told her the situation, to say she was shocked was an understatement, I probably didn’t help the situation either, I might aswell have been telling her I was having a toe removed. Everybody reacted the same way, I think it was how fast that it was happening was probably the big thing. My mother hopped straight in the car and I met her at my house, I still had to go and pick up the kids from school, life still had to go on, I was still me, ok I was going to have 1 less boob the following week but I was going to get through it. I hardly even cried that day. I had arranged to go out that night with friends and decided to hell with it, let’s go celebrate and say good-bye to the boob and so we did and had a lovely night…