The Meeting Before The Holiday
We are going on holiday on Saturday. That is a definite. We have been saving for two years. Bloody cancer is not going to stop us (we hope!).
First meeting with the consultant. He is nice. He is new. He gives me lots of infomation. More science stuff :
"Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Grade 3. Stage 2. The mass is 2.3cm in size approximately. It is highly ER positive and PR positive. It is Her 2 neu negative."
I get it. Its bad. In fact, its worse than bad. Its cancer. Shit, that sucks. My consultant has to examine me. Much poking and prodding, fumbling and intense concentrated looking at my left boob. Then "humphs" and writing down notes.
We say "We are going on holiday. In 2 days." He says "You can go. We will probably operate on you when you get back. In the meantime you have to take these. We will see you in @2 weeks to sort out your Treatment Plan." He gives me a prescription for Tamoxifen. I have heard of this somewhere. It flutters in the back recessess of my mind.
My lovely nurse takes me off to another room. I walk like a Zombie. Stunned. We go through all the information again. I can't take it all in. I get my prescription for Tamoxifen. Then I find out in order to fly, I need blood thinning injections. Cancer makes your blood sticky. And Tamoxifen increases the risk of blood clots. This shit is starting to get weird and serious. So I watch the demo - how to inject into your tummy fat. Then its my turn. Its not too bad. If you have to do it - numb the area with an ice cube - I found this out much later whilst on chemo! So off we go on our holiday, with needles, blood thinning drugs, menopause-inducing, cancer-stopping tablets and a heavy heart.
We did manage to enjoy the holiday. Despite the shitstorm flying in behind us and dragging on the back of our heels.