Week 1: Finding the lump...

So... where do I start?

I am writing this so that I can have a safe space to write all my thoughts down, both good and bad, so that when I have insomnia I can literally do a brain dump and then I can sleep.

There will be stuff that I post which I will never really want to share with friends and loved ones, because to be quite blunt, I am not sure they could cope with my dark humour or indeed some of my darker moments.


Maybe in the future I may be brave enough to compile this into an actual book, or maybe it will lie here as a semi-private blog for my own use only.  Either way, I just think this exercise will be good for me.


So... today is just tipping into Monday 12 December 2016... and the last 24 days have been both the longest days of hell, as well as passing by in a blur.

I will chunk this blog into individual weeks rather than days - I am not sure I am disciplined enough to write daily, and equally I may have nothing to say for long periods of time!

So.... this covers Week 0. (Thursday 24 - Wednesday 30 November 2016)


Overnight on Thursday 24th November, I was staying at a friend's house when I turned over and felt a sharp pain in my left breast.  Upon pressing it, I felt a pea sized hard lump at the bottom curve of my boob, kind of pressing against my rib cage. Without going into overdrive, I was initially thinking that the cough and chest / sinus infection I had had for the previous 6 weeks had maybe escalated or maybe I had a hernia.  (I had been prescribed antibiotics 2 weeks prior, so although I was still a little phlegmy and coughed, I was feeling a whole lot better than I had!!!)


However, it didn't stop me googling - although I stuck to the NHS website.  The advice was that any lump should be checked out, but that generally painful lumps were nothing to worry about.  It didn't stop me being slightly concerned though, and I then spent most of the night poking and prodding the lump to see if it moved easily like fluid, or if it felt hard and immovable.


Anyway... went to work the next morning, as my experience with my GP surgery had been when you phone up for an appointment, the next one is normally abut 3 weeks waiting time.  It took me 2 hours to get through to the receptionist, and I just explained that I had found a lump and asked if there was a well woman clinic that I could attend in the near future.  The receptionist was actually very calm but sympathetic, and said that there was an appointment with a female GP that day at 11.50am, and could I make it in.  (I was actually the other side of Glasgow and my home town is near Edinburgh, but I said yes regardless lol.)

So I jumped in my car and drove home.  I actually cried all the way to the doctors, partly as I was in pain, but also in shock that the doctor could see me that day.  In my head that meant it was something serious.  Which with hindsight I know it was irrational, as literally it could have been anything, although with happy hindsight I am really glad that the NHS are good at dealing with high risk areas of business!

Anyway, the doctor examined me and actually sounded surprised when she said that my lump was definitely present, but if she was a betting woman she was convinced that it was just a wee cyst.  In the olden days she would just have drained it, and I would have had immediate relief.  However... nowadays all cases had to be referred to the hospital to allow mammograms and other tests to be taken.  All I can say with hindsight is.... thank fuck I was referred!  That's nothing against the GP, but I am conscious about what could have went wrong if things hadn't turned out the way they did.

Anyway, she was very nice and said she would refer me to the one-stop breast clinic at St John's Hospital, and I would likely get an appointment before Christmas.  She went on to say that I could expect to be there for about an hour and a half, and I would get a mammogram and ultrasound, possibly a drain, or maybe a wee biopsy.

All good.  So then I drove all the way back to Glasgow as I had meetings, and I had another little blub in the car.  Not for any reason, other than I thought the referral to hospital sounded a little scary, even though I knew in my rational brain that this is all standard process.  Clearly logic does not always chime with how you actually feel!

Anyway, I decided to not overreact and to wait and see what happened.  In the intervening period, I had actually got an email on the Saturday asking if I was free to attend an interview down in Burton Upon Trent on the Tuesday, to which I cheerfully accepted.

So... went to the interview, and by the time I got home on the Tuesday night, I had an email saying I had been successful and could I participate in some psychometric testing in next 2 days, with a second interview scheduled for the following Wednesday... well I was absolutely thrilled as you can imagine, as that was the first job I had applied for in quite some time - and I had only applied thinking it would be good practise!

Anyway, come the Wednesday morning, I thought I better let my boss know I may have to go into hospital for tests sometime before Christmas.  So a quick email, and slightly uncomfortable face to face chat, and then back to my desk. To a missed call from the hospital, asking me to attend the next day.  6 days after I had seen the doctor.

Now again, rationally this was a good thing, quick to be seen, sooner for things to be discounted.  Instead I went to the toilets and burst into tears.

To be fair, I went to see my boss who insisted I took the afternoon off to go do something nice and distracting, so I arranged to go and see one of my friends close by for coffee - partly as I didn't think I could drive with wobbly legs.  She was great though and told me all about her experiences with multiple cysts, so again I was brought back down into calmness and had resigned myself to the worst thing that could happen would be that I had to get my boob drained of horrible yucky stuff.

Getting home that night, my mother in law was staying over, and she had offered to come with me the following day.  I had mixed feelings about that as I am quite independent and I also thought I would be in and out in a jiffy, as well as not wanting to be a burden to anyone... anyway it was a kind offer so I accepted and went to bed - I suffer from insomnia at the best of times but that night was worse this normal - mainly because I have a real phobia about needles and the thought of having something drained out of me was not exactly appealing.  So of course I did what most people do and spent my awakened time googling cancer - just in case.

The stupid thing was, is that the symptoms I had were a mix of everything - so in the end about 4am I gave up and decided not to be a drama queen and just wait and see what happened at the hospital....

With hindsight, this WAS still the best approach to take, even though clearly as my next blog shows... I didn't react so well on the day.... 😂

Week 0: Introduction and context - PLEASE READ

Getting perspective... the random musings of a bolshy cancer fighter 😀

These are my own personal experiences, opinions and thoughts as I go through this journey.

Although I am a positive person, I also have my own dark sense of humour and I am aware that not everybody will either understand or appreciate that.  That's ok.  I write this diary for me, and me alone.  If it helps others along the way on their journey, or indeed to understand me and what I am going through... all good.  If it offends people, then I apologise but all I can suggest is that you switch off and don't read any further.

I am not naive to think that this what I am about to go through is going to be a walk in the park - to be frank, some of it going to be absolutely terrible to live through, write about and also to read about.  But I promise to be truthful to myself and cover the whole warts and all experience... (all puns intended lol).

This may take 6 months of my life, or it may take years... but I am seeing the whole thing as a new adventure to experience, and along the way, maybe take stock and reassess my priorities in life.

I may end up talking absolute random crap in the diary - but then I don't claim to be an acclaimed novelist with great editing skills.  Part of the rationale of writing this is to allow random thoughts an escape route from my insomniac brain, and also to give me an activity to focus on when I may otherwise may be a bit stressed.

So if you are still reading this... happy reading.  It's going to be a rollercoaster 😀.