This week brought my third annual visit to the breast clinic. There’s something about the name than conjures up ideas of nurturing and care. Perhaps it really is that for some people.
But for me it just brings fear.
Groundhog Day
I have been doing this dance for 18 years now. I’m lucky in that I have private health care through work and was able to continue my annual check-ups. Very lucky as it was just a routine check-up that found my second tumour. I didn’t find it. I still couldn’t find it even when I knew it was there!
That scares me. What if I hadn’t had insurance? What would I be looking at instead? Would I still be here?
Thoughts that I really need to let go.
It is exhausting. I am exhausted.
Driving Miss Crazy
This year it wasn’t foremost on my mind, but as soon as I made the appointment it was all I could think of.
Obviously, I check my boobs regularly, but on this day, I found something. Lumpiness. And not a small thing either. Panic set it; my mind went blank. Was it there before? Is it new? Had this huge thing just appeared – I have read that it can happen like that.
I haven’t had lymphedema treatment was a few months due to covid and other illnesses (not me) so could it be just that? Was it just that?
I admit I got myself into a complete state. Checking my pendulum, pulling cards, anything that could possibly shed some light on the matter. The fact that I was going to find out the medical way in a matter of hours wasn’t enough. I had a friend take me to my appointment which was a godsend as I really don’t think I could have got there. I just wanted to cry or throw up. Or maybe at the same time.
To make matters worse, I was seeing a new consultant. Not Kath who had been with me for the last 5 years. What if I didn’t like him or he was dismissive or … you get the picture.
The whole procedure is torture for me. You go in and sit in a waiting room with others, looking around wondering whether they were there for the same reason as you or a different kind of x-ray.
You then get called in for your mammogram. Again a new radiographer who was lovely, but I really wanted to tell her to shut up and that I knew exactly what to do and when. Mean huh?
Mammograms really don’t hurt; they are uncomfortable for a fewest of seconds and then its done. Them I get dressed wanting to push her out the way and look on the screen as I’m definitely an expert in reading mammograms by now……
Torture Chamber?
And then you go back to the waiting room and wait.
Several times at this point I thought of just leaving. Grabbing my back and running. It’s ridiculous really but I was convinced that they were taking their time because the image wasn’t clear
Then the moment came. I got called in to meet Ravi as he will now be called. He seems nice. Obviously, I could only see his eyes but they were kind. And straight away he told me my mammogram was all clear. I again wanted to cry or vomit. Then came the physical exam.
This is it, I thought. He will feel it now. And we will start down the ultrasound biopsy road.
I must admit it was a thorough exam. And Ravi confirmed that I did have unbelievably bad lymphedema in the breast which was unusual as I hadn’t had any lymph nodes removed, but the scar tissue was solid and stopping the flow.
Your breast isn’t very happy he said. No shit.
But the most important point was that it wasn’t cancer. I did not have cancer.
The relief was immeasurable. I really couldn’t believe the state I had got myself into. I felt a bit of a fool. I really couldn’t let myself go through that again.
And as a bonus, because my tumours had been quite small, he was confident that I would only need another 2 years on the hormone blockers.
Revelations
It was whilst I was in the car a day later with just my thoughts and Spotify for company, that I had an epiphany. I have been self-sabotaging my life and my future. Not intentionally or overtly, but something had been blocking me, holding me back. And I realised that it was the fear that I may die.
Probably sounds a bit extreme, but it makes sense and feels right. When you deal with the prospect that you could get Cancer again, or that next time it isn’t found in time, or it’s the “wrong” kind, it almost makes you not want to make a go of things, be successful, build something to be proud of, because it could all be taken away.
Knowing What You Want
You can get so far and then time just freezes. It has only been since I was made redundant and decided to build a holistic business that it feels more pertinent.
This realisation has made me think this week. Do I really want a holistic business? Do I want to be successful and help as many people as I can? Or do I want to let Cancer win. Do I want to sit back and blame outside influences for my failure, or do I want to take responsibility for my actions, or lack thereof? Do I just things to stay as they are and console myself with beating cancer being enough of an achievement.
I already know my answer. I also know I have some internal work to do to smash those blocks, get rid of what is holding me back and shift my mindset.
I’m also quite angry with myself for not realising it sooner. But I’m determined. Determined that I’m not going to let “possibility “hold me back. Moving forward brings more possibilities so that’s what I’m going to do now.
But for now...
And make an appointment at the lymphedema clinic…
